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POPULAR    RELIGIOUS 


WORKS. 


HNDER  THE  SUPERVISION  OF  THE  FOLLOWING  CLERGYMEN: 

Rev.  Jonathan  Goino,  of  the  Baptist  Church, 

Rev.  J.  F.  Schroeder,  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church 

Rev.  J.  M.  Krebs,  of  the  Presbyterian  Church. 


VOL.  vin. 


NEW-YORK. 
THOMAS  GEORGE,  JR.,  SPRUCE  STREET 

1836. 


CONTENTS    OF    THE    VOLUME 


THE  MARTHAS ; 

OK,    THE    VARIETIES    OF   FEMALE     PIETY. 

BY  REV.  ROBERT  PHILIP. 


THE  LOVE  OF  THE  SPIRIT 

TEACED   IN   HIS   WORK. 

BY  REV.  ROBERT  PHILIP. 


THE  REASONABLENESS  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

AS    DELIVERED    IN    THE    SCRIPTURES. 

BY  JOHN  LOCKE. 


LIVES  UP  THE  APOSTLES. 
BY  WILLIAM  CAVE,  D.  D 


REMAINS  OF  REV.  RICHARD  CECIL, 
BY  JOSIAH  PRATT,  B.  D. 


THE    MARTHAS; 


CB, 


THE   VARIETIES   OF   FEMALE    PIETY 


BY   ROBERT   PHILIP, 

OF   MABERLY   CHAPEL. 


'Jesus  loved  Martha — and  her  sister," — Joh% 

"  Martha,  Martha!"— I/wi'^. 
'  As  many  as  I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chasten."— Jesus. 


NEW-YORK : 
THOMAS  GEORGE,  JR.  SPRUCE  STREET. 
No.  60.  183  6. 


PREFACE. 

The  auhor  did  hope,  that  this  volume  would  have  embraced  the  Varieties  of  Female 
Character,  as  well  as  of  Female  Piety,  because  character  and  piety  are  so  identical.  He 
has,  however,  found  it  impossible  to  trace  the  developement  of  both,  under  the  name  of 
Martha.  "  The  Lydias,  or  the  Developement  of  Female  Character,"  will,  therefore,  follow 
this  volume,  and  complete  the  first  section  of  the  Closet  Library. 

The  author  gratefully  acknowledges,  that  he  has  not  appealed  in  vain  to  the  Mothers 
or  the  Daughters  in  British  "Israel." 

Newington  Green,  1836. 


CONTENTS 


No.  Page 

Martha  and  the  IV^arthas,            .                -                _                -                .  3 

I.     Varieties,  from  Tmidity,            .....  5 

Allegory,  No.  1— Rachel's  Leprosy,        ...                -  8 

IL     Varieties,  from  Oversight,          -                .                .                •                -  H 

Allegory,  No.  U— :iachel's  E.\ile,             -                .                                -  18 

III.  Varieties,  from  Mistikes,            -----  20 
Allegory,  No.  3— Rachel's  Cure,              ...                -  07 

IV,  Varieties,  from  Inattention,        .                -                                -                -  28 
V.     Varieties,  from  Mistrust,            ....                -  34 

VI.     Varieties,  from  Modtsiy,             -                -                -                .                .  36 

VII.     Varieties,  from  Fretfiiness,        .....  40 


INTRODUCTION 


MARTHA  AND  THE  MARTHAS. 

The  key  to  the  second  volume  of  the  Lady's  Clo- 
set Library,  must  be  taken  from  the  fact,  that 
pious  females,  who  have  not  exactly  the  spirit  of 
Mary,  are  usually  ranked  w^ith  Martha.  Indeed, 
they  regard  themselves  as  Marthas,  and  are  some- 
what doubtful  whether  they  have  really  "  chosen 
the  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken  from" 
them.  It  is,  therefore,  because  these  who  are  not 
very  like  Mary,  class  themselves,  and  are  classed, 
with  Martha,  that  I  bring  under  her  name,  "  The 
Varieties  of  Female  Piety."  Many  of  its  varie- 
ties are  almost  as  unlike  her,  as  she  was  unlike 
her  sister  :  but  all  of  them,  so  far  as  they  are  oc- 
casioned by  faults  or  defects  of  character  and 
temper,  require  the  same  treatment  which  Martha 
received  from  Christ ; — tenderness  enough  to  pre- 
vent despair,  and  reproof  enough  to  check  pre- 
sumption. 

Martha's  faults  are  not  the  only  faults,  which 
the  Saviour  rebukes  and  chastises,  in  all  whom 
He  loves.  His  object  is,  to  have  aU  his  real  disci- 
ples conformed  to  His  own  image  ;  and,  therefore 
he  contends  against  whatever,  in  each  of  them,  is 
most  unlike  himself.  Whatever  had  been  the  be- 
setting sin  of  Martha's  character  or  spirit,  his  re- 
buke,— "  Martha,  Martha  .'"  would  have  been 
equally  pointed  and  unequivocal.  It  applies,  there- 
fore, to  all  those  varieties  of  piety  which,  like 
hers,  leave  some  doubt  upon  all  minds  (the  pos- 
sessors not  e.\cepted)  of  its  present  reality,  or  of 
its  future  issue.  The  rebuke  bears  directly,  not 
indeed  upon  all  imperfection,  but  upon  all  impru- 
dence and  oversight,  negligence  and  self-will. 
Accordingly,  it  is  applied  to  themselves,  by  many 
pious  females,  who  never  went  Martha's  lengths  in 
ill-temper.  There  are  meek  and  amiable  women, 
who  feel  instinctively  that  they  have  more  of  Mar- 
tha, than  of  Mary,  in  their  character.  Some  of 
them,  although  not  "  cumbered  about  much  serv- 
ing," are  yet  so  cumbered  about  somethi/ig,  that 
their  liearts  are  almost  divided  between  God  and 
the  world.  Others,  again,  although  not  "  careful 
and  troubled  about  many  tilings,"  are  yet  so  ab- 
sorbed with  some  earthly  good  or  evil  in  their  lot 
that  it  is  very  doubtful  to  themselves,  whether 


heavenly  thmgs  have  any  real  place  in  their  affec- 
tions. Others,  again,  have  so  much  to  contend 
with,  either  from  temperament  or  condition,  from 
trials  or  temptations,  that  they  are  almost  the  crea- 
tures of  cfrcumstances,  and  vary  in  their  feelings 
with  all  the  variations  of  their  health  or  prosperi- 
ty.   They  are 

"Every  thing  by  turns, 
And  nothing  long." 

It  would  be  easy  (and  as  useless  as  easy)  to  de- 
pict these  faults  and  defects.  It  would  be  still 
easier,  and  more  useless,  to  condenm  them.  They 
can  only  be  reproved  with  effect,  by  what  can 
cure  them  effectually.  Nothing  but  the  remedy 
provided  for  them  in  the  gospel,  can  bring  home 
their  sin  or  folly  to  the  heart.  It  is  only  when  we 
see,  from  the  designs  of  grace,  and  from  the  cha- 
racter of  glory,  what  we  ought  to  be,  and  what  we 
may  be,  that  we  acknowledge,  even  to  ourselves, 
what  we  really  are.  It  is  when  confronted  with 
the  image  of  Christ  and  the  image  of  the  Hea- 
venly, that  we  become  alarmed  at  the  "  earthy" 
features  of  our  own  image.  No  light,  but  the 
light  of  eternity,  can  expose  our  faults  fully,  and 
yet  set  us  to  con-ect  them  willingly,  at  the  same 
time.  We  may  yield  partly  to  human  influence  ; 
but  nothing  less  than  Divine  authority,  and  that 
only  in  its  paternal  spirit  and  eternal  sanctions, 
can  sway  our  inclinations. 

Convinced  of  all  tliis  by  my  own  experience, 
and  from  the  contact  or  correspondence  into  whicli 
my  "  Guides"  have  brought  me  with  so  many  of 
the  varieties  of  male  and  female  piety,  at  home 
and  abroad,  I  have  not  confronted  the  peculiari- 
ties  of  men  and  women  "  professing  godliness  ;" 
nor  contrasted  the  Marthas  with  the  Marys ;  nor 
even  compared  the  sexes:  but  have  brought  all 
the  varieties  of  piety,  to  the  one  standard  by 
which  they  will  all  be  tried  at  last, — the  image  of 
Clirist !  And  where  there  is  not  conscience 
enough  to  take  lessons  there — I  certainly  do  not 
include  such  characters  amongst  the  varieties  of 
Christians.  They  vary  too  little  from  tlie  world, 
to  have  any  identity  with  the  Church.  In  a  word, 
I  have  nothing  to  say,  in  this  volume,  to  any  female 


INTRODUCTION. 


who  is  quite  satisfied  with  her  own  piety,  either  as 
to  its  kind  or  degree.  It  is  intended  to  encourage 
those  who  "  stand  in  doubt"  of  themselves,  and 
to  "stir  up,  by  way  of  remembrance,"  the  "pure 
minds"  of  those  who  are  doubted  by  others. 

Such  being  my  design,  I  have  said  Uttle  about 
Martha.  I  entertain  no  doubt  of  her  piety.  She 
presents,  in  her  honest,  although  bustling,  regard 
to  the  Saviour,  a  noble  contrast  to  her  nation,  and 
to  the  mass  of  her  sex.  She  was  even  more 
prompt  than  Mary,  to  meet  Christ,  when  he  came 
to  Bethany  on  the  death  of  Lazarus;  and  she 
was  the  first  to  whisper  cautiously  to  her,  (whom 
she  had  once,  perhaps  often,  scolded,)  "The 
Master  is  come,  and  caUeth  for  thee."  He  had 
called  for  Mary;  but  he  had  not  sent  Martha 
with  his  message.  She,  however,  would  not  trust 
the  tenderness  or  the  prudence  of  any  one,  to 
break  the  good  news  to  her  weeping  sister  ;  but, 
the  moment  she  saw  that  they  were  good  news, 
away  she  ran,  to  prepare  Mary  for  them,  and  to 
bring  her  to  Jesus  without  fear  or  surprise.  Thus 


Martha  was  as  much  delighted,  on  this  occasion, 
to  take  her  sister  to  the  feet  of  Jesus,  to  hear  his 
"gracious  words,"  as  she  was  once  offended  with 
her  for  sitting  at  his  feet. 

All  this  is  highly  creditable  to  her ;  and  it  ex- 
plains, in  some  degree,  why  "  Jesus  loved  Martha," 
as  well  as  Mary.  Still,  I  dare  not  take  her  piety 
out  of  the  cloud,  which  the  Saviour's  rebuke, — 
"  Martha,  Martha  !" — left  upon  it.  That  rebuke 
was  as  much  intended  for  warning,  as  His  con- 
tinued love  was  for  encouragement.  It  would, 
therefore,  be  as  unwise  to  make  the  star  of  His 
love  disperse  the  cloud  of  His  reproof  entirely,  as 
it  would  be  unfair  to  make  the  cloud  eclipse  the 
star,  at  all.  They  are  equally  over  Martha's 
head,  in  her  history ;  and,  therefore,  I  dare  not 
separate  nor  soften  them :  but  must  leave  the 
star  in  all  its  brightness,  and  the  cloud  in  all  its 
darkness,  to  make  their  own  impression  upon 
every  female,  who  is  conscious  of  any  thing  which 
deserves  the  "Martha,  Martha  !"  of  the  Saviour 
she  loves  and  desires  to  be  loved  by. 


5 


G-5!roi7 


THE    MARTHAS. 


No.  I. 

VARIETraS,   FROM   TIMIDITY. 

You  are  familiar  with  the  question — "  Who 
hath  despised  the  day  of  small  things?"  It  has 
been  transferred,  not  unfairly  nor  unaptly,  from 
the  foundation-stone  of  the  second  temple  in  Je- 
rusalem, to  the  first  symptoms  and  marks  of  that 
"good  work"  of  grace  in  the  heart,  by  which  we 
become  living  Temples,  or  "  an  habitation  of  God 
through  the  Spirit."  Now,  whoever  else  may 
despise  these  incipient  signs  of  conversion,  God 
does  not.  Even  when  there  is  nothing  but  a  pe- 
nitent spirit,  and  whilst  both  joy  and  peace  are 
unknown,  we  are  warranted  to  say  with  David, 
"A  broken  and  a  contrite  heart,  O  God,  thou  wilt 
not  despise."  This  is  pleasing  !  But  the  Spirit 
of  inspiration  led  Isaiah  beyond  David,  in  thus 
condescending  to  the  "  low  estate"  of  commencing 
piety.  Isaiah  was  warranted  to  class  the  irem- 
hling  amongst  the  "contrite  ones,"  even  when 
God,  as  the  High  and  Lofty  one,  who  inhabiteth 
Eternity,  was  describing  the  hearts  to  which  He 
would  look  with  compassion,  and  in  which  He 
would  dwell  with  complacency.  Isaiah  Ivii.  15. 
Neither  the  temple  on  earth,  nor  even  the  temple 
of  heaven, — although  the  former  resounded  with 
Hosannas,  and  the  latter  with  Hallelujahs,  could 
so  engross  the  attention  of  Jehovah,  as  to  divert 
it  from  true  penitents,  even  whilst  their  prayers 
were  only  as  the  sighing  of  prisoners,  or  but  groan- 
ings  which  cannot  be  uttered.  "  Thus  saith  the 
Lord,  the  heaven  is  my  throne,  and  the  earth  is 
my  footstool ;  v/here  is  the  house  ye  build  unto 
Me  ]  and  where  is  the  place  of  My  rest  ]  But  to 
this  man  will  I  look,  even  to  him  that  is  poor,  and 
of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  trembleth  at  my  word." 
This  is  condescension  !  Who  would  despise  the 
day  of  small  things,  after  thus  seemg  how  God  de- 
lights to  honor  it  ?  In  the  presence  of  this  fact, 
you  can  see,  at  a  glance,  wliy  there  is  joy  amongst 
the  angels  of  God  in  heaven,  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth.  God  himself  rejoiceth  over  them  "  with 
singing."  It  is  not  in  this  connection,  that  even  a 
stern  theorist,  who  calls  nothing  faith,  but  assu- 
rance ;  and  nothing  conversion,  but  the  witness  of 
the  Spirit,  would  dare  to  say, — "  the  devils  believe, 
and  tremble."  They  do  tremble  at  the  word  of 
God  ;  but  not  in  a  broken  or  contrite  spirit.  It  is 
not  a  sense  of  tiieir  own  guilt  or  viJeness,  which 
iwes  them.  They  do  not  despair  because  they 
'eel  unworthy  of  hope.  There  is  no  humility  in 
heir  horror,  and  no  contrition  in  their  terror : 
.vhereas,  when  you  tremble  most  at  the  word  of 
jod,  it  is  because  you  feel  yourself  worthy  of  its 
hreatenings,  and  unworthy  of  its  great  and  pre- 
tious  promises.  And  it  would  not  be  even  a  "  day 
if  small  things"  in  your  experience,  if  you  had 


never  trembled  at  the  word  of  God !  There  is  no 
"  good  thing  in  the  heart  toward  the  Lord,"  until 
there  is  some  serious  fear  of  his  anger,  and  a  real 
sense  of  being  utterly  unworthy  of  his  mercy. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  great  thing,  to  get  rid  of  the 
"  fear  which  hath  torment."  Nothing  is  more  de- 
sirable than  that  it  should  be  "  cast  out."  It  is 
never  cast  out,  however,  by  casting  away  a  sense 
of  unvvorthiness,  nor  by  trying  to  think  lightly  of 
the  Divine  anger.  It  is  "  perfect  love"  that  cast- 
eth  out  tormenting  fear,  1  John  iv.  14 ;  and  love 
never  can  be  perfected  or  improved,  if  you  despise 
the  day  of  small  things.  Your  love  to  the  Saviour 
is  not  insincere,  because  you  have  many  fears.  It 
would,  indeed,  be  very  questionable,  and  equivo- 
cal too,  if  you  had  no  fears.  "  No  strange  thing 
hath  befallen  you,"  if,  as  yet,  you  have  more  fears 
than  hopes. 

This  is,  however,  a  critical  state  to  be  in.  It  is 
not  uncommon,  certainly  ;  but  still,  it  is  danger- 
ous. Some  have  "  done  despite  to  the  Spirit  of 
grace,"  by  despismg  the  day  of  small  things,  as 
too  small  to  be  worth  much  immediate  notice ; 
and  others,  by  despairing,  because  it  was  so  un- 
hkely  to  lead  on  to  a  day  oi  great  things.  Agahist 
both  these  e.\tremes,  I  would  put  you  upon  your 
guard.  They  are  equally  perilous,  and  have 
proved  fatal  to  many.  Perhaps,  you  know  some 
one  in  your  own  circle, — a  sister,  or  brother,  or 
friend,  who  is  in  danger  of  quenching  the  Spirit, 
because  not  aware  of  the  varieties  of  manner  and 
degi-ee,  in  which  the  Spirit  begins  the  good  work 
of  grace.  You  may  have  been  at  a  loss,  how  to 
answer  the  objections  of  some  one,  whose  occa- 
sional feelings  seem  to  you,  "tokens  for  good," 
whilst  to  him,  or  her,  they  appear  too  slight  and 
evanescent  to  deserve  attention.  Would  it  not 
be  botii  wise  and  kind,  to  brmg  the  following  ap- 
peal under  the  notice  of  such  a  one  ?  It  is  so- 
lemn and  pointed ;  but  not  too  much  so,  when 
there  is  a  disposition  to  despise  the  day  of  small 
things. — Now,  no  "good  thing"  toward  God,  and 
the  Lamb,  m  the  heart,  can  be  so  small,  as  to  be 
unworthy  of  your  watchful  and  prayerful  notice. 
Passing  thoughts  and  momentary  impressions, 
may  be  unworthy  of  being  called  "  a  saving  work 
of  grace  upon  your  soul."  Conviction  is  not  con- 
version, nor  is  feeling  faith.  It  might,  therefore, 
be  very  \vrong  to  conclude  that  you  have  "  passed 
fi-om  death  to  life,"  or  been  "  translated  from  dark- 
ness unto  light,"  merely  because  you  have  some 
sense  of  your  need  of  this  divine  change,  and  some 
hope  or  wish  to  experience  it.  You  do,  however, 
know  something  of  its  nature,  and  feel  occasion- 
ally its  necessity.  You  may  regret,  but  you  do 
not  "  marvel,"  that  you  must  be  born  again  of  the 
Spirit,  before  you  can  enter  the  kingdom  of  hea- 
ven. You  know  too  much  both  of  heaven  and 
of  your  own  heart,  to  be  surprised  (however  you 


THE    MARTHAS. 


may  be  offended)  when  you  are  told  that  you  are 
unfit  for  heaven.  And  is  this  conviction  nothing  ? 
It  may  be— it  is — a  day  of  small  things,  compared 
with  the  great  searchings  of  heart,  and  with  the 
strong  cries  and  tears,  which  the  necessity  of  be- 
ing born  again  is  producing  in  some  of  your  fami- 
ly or  friends.  There  may  be  no  comparison  be- 
tween the  strength  of  your  convictions,  and  the 
cry  of  the  Pentecostal  converts.  Any  fear  or 
hope  you  feel,  may  be  but  as  the  mere  shadow  of 
their  impressions.  What  then?  So  much  the 
more  need  you  have  to  take  care  that  you  do  not 
despise  the  approaches  of  the-  Holy  Spirit  to  your 
own  heart. 

Do  not  say  in  answer  to  this  appeal,  "I  am  not 
at  all  sure  that  the  Spirit  is  striving  with  me,  or 
doing  any  thing  for  me."  It  is  easy  to  utter  these 
words,  when  an  excuse  is  wanted  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  for  delay  or  indecision  in  rehgion  : 
but  you  durst  not  utter  them  deliberately,  after 
looking  fairly  at  their  meaning.  Your  tongue 
would  cleave  to  the  roof  of  your  mouth,  were  you 
to  try  to  say, — "I  am  one,  whom  the  Spirit  of 
God  never  once  influenced  to  think  or  pray.  He 
has  been  moving  upon  the  face  of  the  waters  of 
the  Sanctuary  where  I  worship,  converting  sin- 
ners, and  consoling  penitents,  and  sanctifying  be- 
lievers ;  but  he  never  suggested  one  good  thought 
in  my  mind,  nor  awakened  one  holy  desire,  nor 
shed  one  ray  of  light  upon  my  path  of  duty  or  in- 
terest. However  He  moved  in  power  or  glory, 
and  wherever  He  wrought,  He  passed  me  by — 
let  rhe  alone !" 

This  would  be  "  lying  against  the  Holy  Ghost !" 
Had  even  your  occasional  impressions  been  fewer, 
and  your  past  resolutions  feebler  than  you  know 
them  to  have  been,  you  would  not  dare  to  speak 
thus,  lest  you  should  provoke  the  Spirit  of  God  to 
let  you  alone  for  ever.  Why,  it  is  one  great  rea- 
son for  any  hope  you  have  of  ever  being  called  by 
grace,  that  you  have  felt,  and  do  feel,  that  the 
Spirit  has  not  let  you  alone.  It  is  because  you 
are  not  given  up  to  a  seared  conscience,  nor  to  a 
reprobate  mind,  that  you  venture  to  calculate  upon 
some  future  "day  of  power,"  coming  in  time 
enough  to  prepare  you  for  eternity.  According- 
ly, were  you  quite  sure  that  such  a  day  of  power 
would  not  come,  unless,  from  this  moment,  you  set 
yourself  to  act  upon  your  present  convictions,  you 
would  be  very  glad  to  admit  that  what  you  have 
already  felt,  was,  althougli  not  the  first  fruit  of  the 
Spirit,  the  breaking  up  of  "  the  fallow  ground"  of 
the  heart,  for  the  good  seed  of  the  Word.  Well ; 
the  Holy  Ghost  does  say,  "  To-day,  if  ye  will  hear 
my  voice,  harden  not  your  heart." 

Do  not  evade  this  warning  by  saying,  "that 
you  would  follow  the  leadings  of  the  Spirit,  if  He 
would  only  lead  you,  as  powerfully  and  sensibly, 
as  he  does  some  whom  you  know."  You  have 
no  more  right  to  dictate  to  the  Holy  Spirit  the 
manner  in  which  he  shall  deal  with  you,  than  to 
dictate  to  Providence  the  way  in  which  it  shall 
treat  you.  Now,  you  would  not  presume  to  lay 
it  down  as  an  indispensable  condition  of  your 
giving  yourself  to  the  Lord  and  to  the  Church, 
that  he  should  give  you  whatever  temporal  bless- 
ings you  may  think  best  for  you.  You  know  that 
you  cannot  stipulate  with  God,  to  have  all  your 
own  will,  in  "the  things  which  pertain  to  life." 


Why,  then,  in  the  things  which  "  pertain  to  god- 
liness ?" 

Ponder  Paul's  solemn  question:  "Who  hath 
known  the  mind  of  the  Lord,  (the  Spirit,)  that  he 
may  instruct  Him"!"  1  Cor.  ii.  16.  Can  you,  in 
the  face  of  this  caution,  say  that  you  will  not  honor 
nor  own  the  Holy  Ghost,  unless  He  act  with  you, 
just  as  He  has  done  with  others'?  Surely  not! 
It  may  not,  indeed,  be  altogether  wrong  to  wish 
for  such  an  awakening  as  the  jailor's  ;  or  for  such 
a  flower-like  opening  of  the  heart  as  Lydia's  ;  or 
for  sucli  a  rejoicing  discovery  of  the  glory  of 
Christ  as  the  eunuch's ;  or  even  for  such  a  con- 
straining impulse  from  the  love  of  Christ,  as  that 
wliich  carried  the  Corinthians  before  it,  hke  ves- 
sels with  a  fair  wind,  upon  a  mighty  spring-tide : 
but  it  is  wrong,  to  insist  upon  one  or  other  of  these 
modes  of  conversion,  as  the  condition  of  your  turn- 
ing to  the  Lord.  You  may,  like  Ephraim,  pray, 
"Turn  thou  me,  and  I  shall  be  turned  :"  and  like 
David,  "  Draw  me,  and  I  will  run  after  Thee ;" 
but  you  must  not  prescribe  to  God  either  the  pre- 
cise  weapon  of  power  by  which  He  shall  turn 
you,  or  the  precise  cord  of  love  by  which  he  shall 
draw  you.  Leave  the  selection  of  means  a.nd 
modes  of  Divine  operation  in  the  hands  of  Divine 
wisdom  ;  and,  in  the  mean  time  cherish  the  sacred 
impressions  which  have  already  been  made  upon 
your  heart  and  conscience.  They  are  more  va- 
luable to  you,  and  involve  your  eternal  welfare 
more  deeply,  than  the  mantle  of  Prophecy,  or  the 
gift  of  Miracles,  were  even  both  to  descend  upon 
you.  Prophets  have  perished,  and  workers  of 
mighty  miracles  have  become  apostates  ;  but  no 
one  ever  drew  back  to  perdition,  who  honestly 
and  humbly  sought  for  the  renewing  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  O,  then,  quench  not,  grieve  not,  vex  not, 
limit  not,  the  Spirit  of  God  ! 


This  appeal  may  not  be  altogether  useless  to 
yourself:  for  although,  in  general,  you  do  not  de- 
spise the  day  of  small  things,  there  may  be  some 
of  "the  things  of  the  Spirit,"  which  you  too  light- 
ly esteem.  His  "shadows,  as  well  as  His  lights," 
(as  Shcshbazzar  would  have  said,)  are  instruc- 
tive. He  can  lead  by  the  Pillar,  as  a  cloud;  as 
well  as  by  the  Pillar,  as  a  flame  of  ^re.  I  mean, 
that  the  Spirit  is  often  present,  and  working 
mightily  too,  when  we  imagine  that  he  is  with- 
drawn entirely.  This  is  no  paradox.  We  are 
so  much  in  the  habit  of  confounding  the  work  and 
witness  of  the  Spirit,  with  comfort,  that  we  are  for 
ever  ready,  when  we  are  uncomfortable,  to  think 
Him  "afar  off."  But  this  is  quite  a  mistake! 
lie  is  not  standing  afar  off,  much  less  forgetting 
us,  when  we  are  left  to  feel  that  our  strength  is 
weakness:  and  our  ability  to  hope,  dependent; 
and  our  inclination  to  persevere,  precarious.  He 
is,  indeed,  working  deep  in  our  hearts,  when  we 
are  afraid  to  look  at  them.  Humility,  and  self- 
abasement,  and  self-distrust,  are  as  much  fruits  of 
the  Spirit,  as  love,  joy,  or  peace.  And,  accord- 
ingly, by  both  His  lights  and  shadows,  we  are  sent 
to  the  Cross  and  the"l\lercy-seat ;  to  the  Bible  and 
the  Sanctuary,  praying  with  equal  fervency, 
"  Lord,  save,  or  I  perish." 

This  is  not,  however,  all  that  I  mean.     I  am 


THE    MARTHAS. 


quite  persuaded  that  some  of  the  most  direct  in- 
fluences of  the  Holy  Spirit,  or  those  which  come 
from  the  throne,  as  Jeremy  Taylor  says  ejacula- 
tory  prayer  goes  to  it,  "  in  a  straiglit  line,"  are 
least  attended  to  by  us.  For,  have  you  not  often 
felt  upon  your  spirit  the  impulse,  as  it  were,  of  an 
invisible  hand,  gently  pushing  you  off  your  chair, 
that  you  might  go  into  your  closet ;  or  rise  to  take 
up  your  Bible,  as  more  wanted  than  the  book  you 
were  reading?  Have  you  not  occasionally  felt, 
as  if  you  were  haunted  by  the  presence  of  a  dying 
neighbor,  or  by  the  urgency  of  his  watching  an- 
gels, to  go  out  and  speak  a  word  in  season,  or,  at 
least,  to  show  that  you  had  Christian  sympathy '! 
Have  not  many  things  occurred  to  you  as  hints, 
wanted  at  home  ;  and  as  plans,  likely  to  do  good 
at  home,  which,  if  you  had  communicated  or  acted 
upon  whUst  they  were  fresh  in  your  mind,  might 
have  been  very  useful  to  others,  and  saved  you 
from  the  self-upbraiding  which  follows  the  neglect 
of  relative  duty  ] 

In  thus  recalling  such  angel-visits  of  Divine  in- 
fluence, by  which  new  duties  are  suggested,  or 
improvements  in  old  duties  enforced,  nothing  is 
farther  from  my  design  than  to  make  any  duty 
dependent  upon  impulse.  The  Spirit  will  not  su- 
persede the  law  of  duty,  by  the  grace  of  help. 
He  does,  however,  help  us  in  obeying  that  law, 
by  throwing  new  and  impressive  lights  upon  its 
bearings,  and  upon  the  best  way  of  following  them 
out.  Whilst,  therefore,  I  would  solemnly  warn 
you  against  following  any  impulse,  however  plau- 
sible, which  is  not  founded  upon  express  rule,  I 
would  most  afferctionately  urge  you  not  to  quench 
or  resist  the  Holy  Ghost,  when  he  makes  the  let- 
ter or  the  spirit  of  any  scriptural  duty  "  arise  in 
your  hearts  like  a  day-star,"  and  shine  as  a  light 
in  a  dark  place.  Unto  such  illuminations,  you 
"do  well  to  take  heed."  It  will  never  be  a  day 
of  great  things  in  your  devotional  experience,  if 
you  let  such  direct  rays  from  heaven  pass  urmo- 
ticed.  Do  not  wonder  that  the  Comforter  wUl 
not  always  come  into  your  closet,  nor  meet  you 
regularly  at  the  sacrament,  when  you  wish  him  to 
do  so — if  you  often  refuse  to  go  alone  with  him,  or 
out  for  hira,  when  he  is  whispering  to  you  what 
he  would  have  you  to  do.  This  "still  small 
voice"  is  one  of  the  small  things  which  you  must 
not  despise.  "If  you  do,"  (Sheshbazzar  would 
have  said,)  "  God  may  reverse  the  Horeb  vision  of 
Elijah ;  and  make  the  stormy  wind,  the  earth- 
I  quake  and  the  fire,  follow  the  still  small  voice." 
I  These,  however,  are  but  passing  hints.  I  want, 
in  order  to  encourage  you  to  prize  and  cherish  the 
beginnings  of  the  good  work  of  grace  in  your  own 
1  soul,  to  mark  most  attentively,  how  the  Saviour 
I  estimated  and  treated  even  "  the  blade"  of  true 
piety,  before  "  the  full  corn,"  or  "  the  ear"  had 
shot  forth.  He  did  not  despise  the  day  of  small 
things!  He  often  treated  as  "great  things," 
prayers  and  faith  which  others  would  have  de- 
spised, and  which  the  offerers  themselves  were 
afraid  or  ashamed  of,  as  too  weak  and  imperfect 
tx)  be  accepted. 

Both  the  proofs  and  promises  of  this  delightful 
fact  are,  of  course,  rising  in  your  memory  like 
stars,  in  light  and  loveliness.  You  could  repeat 
them,  without  my  quoting  them 'at  all.  So  far 
well.    But  let  us  just  look  over  some  of  them  for 


once,  as  illustrations  of  the  Oracle  on  which  this 
essay  is  founded,  that  we  may  see  and  feel  how 
transportingly  true  it  is. 

I  know  not  which  of  them  is  your  favorite.— 
Mine  is,  that  sweet  assurance  to  voung  and  weak 
disciples,  "  He  shall  feed  his  flock  as  a  Shepherd ; 
He  shall  gather  the  lambs  in  his  arms,  and  carry 
them  in  his  bosom."  You  cannot  be  weaker  than 
a  lamb  is,  when  it  requires  such  care  from  the 
shepherd.  And  remember  ;  it  is  the  weakness, 
and  not  the  innocence  of  the  lamb,  which  engages 
thus  the  shepherd's  sympathies. 

The  allusion  is  from  tlie  East.  Often,  on  go- 
ing out  amongst  the  folds  in  the  morning,  after 
having  kept  watch  all  night,  against  the  wolves, 
the  shepherd  finds  a  young  lamb,  chilled  with  the 
dew  or  the  frost  of  the  night,  and  unable  to  follow 
the  flock  to  green  pastures  or  still  waters.  He 
raises  it  gently  from  the  ground,  and  wraps  it  to 
his  bosom  under  his  own  warm  cloak,  and  carries 
it  forward,  thus,  until  it  revive.  Now  "  the  Great 
Shepherd,"  is  just  such  a  "good  shepherd  !"  Afl 
the  sheep,  and  even  some  under-shepherds,  may 
not  have  tenderness  nor  patience,  to  watch  over 
such  a  lamb  as  you,  nor  to  wait  until  you  are  able 
to  follow  them  on  hill  and  through  valley  :  but  the 
Shepherd  of  souls,  is  the  Bishop  of  souls ;  and  he 
v;ill  neither  leave  nor  forsake  you.  He  can  be 
"touched  with  a  feeling  of  your  infirmities,"  and 
thus  can  bear  with  them,  until  you  can  bear  to 
move  and  rest  with  all  his  flock.  He  will  even 
gather  you  in  his  arms,  until  you  can  walk  in  his 
footsteps  ;  and  carry  you  in  his  bosom,  until  you 
can  follow  him  whithersoever  he  goeth.  Thus, 
He  does  not  despise  the  day  of  small  things  :  but 
according  to  their  smallness,  makes  his  care  and 
tenderness  great.  And,  will  you  despair  of  weak- 
ness, which  He  pities  !  Will  you  give  up  hope, 
whilst  He  gives  this  heed,  and  hand,  and  heart,  to 
the  weak  in  faith,  and  to  the  fainting  in  hope  ' 

Take  another  view  of  your  case.  "  A  bruised 
reed  shall  he  not  break."  No ;  the  mus:t  it 
makes  at  first,  may  be  neither  harmony  nor  melo- 
dy ;  may  be  rather  sad  than  sweet ;  but  He  will 
not  break  it,  nor  cast  it  away,  because  of  its  broken 
notes.  He  wdl  mend  and  moisten  it,  until  its 
tones  are  clear  and  melodious.  "Out  of  the 
mouth  of  babes  and  sucklings,"  He  perfects  praise. 
Many  a  bruised  reed,  which  was  once  almost  as 
dumb  or  dull  as  the  harps  upon  the  willows  of  Ba- 
bylon, is  now  sounding  out  the  New  Song,  with 
not  a  little  of  both  the  spirit  and  compass  of  the 
golden  harps  before  the  throne  of  God.  And, 
however  bruised,  you  are  not  a  broken  reed.  A 
broken  reed  is  cast  away  from  all  the  means  of 
mending.  But  you  are  not  only  in  the  land  ot 
the  living,  and  thus  in  the  place  of  hope  ;  but 
you  are  also  under  the  care  of  a  minister,  or  under 
the  guidance  of  a  friend,  or  have  access  to  some 
book,  whose  chief  object  is  to  tune  and  strengthen 
bruised  reeds,  until  they  can 

"  Join  their  cheerful  scrags, 

With  angels  round  the  throne." 

Remember ;  Jesus  says,  (and  you  can  surely 
take  his  word  !)  "  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn, 
for  they  shall  be  comforted."  The  night  of  peni- 
tential weeping,  will  be  followed  by  the  mornmg 


8 


THE    MARTHAS. 


"  '  loncrer  able  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem,  "  tluree  times  a 
Tr-"  and,  therefore,  he  preferred  to  be  there  on 


of  believmg  joy  r     <•  »u     «.,,. 

vour  leisure,  the  other  proofs  of  the  ba\ 
considerate  and  compassionate  regard  to  the  day 
of  smaU  things.  In  the  meantime,  whilst  these 
two  arc  before  you,  and  vou  are  admiring  them, 
I  must  remind  vou,  that  none  of  them  are  mtend- 
ed  to  reconcile 'you  to  the  contimtance  of  a  day  of 
small  things,  in  either  your  faith  or  hohness.  It 
is,  that  small  things  may  become  great  thmgs, 
that  they  are  thus  watched  by  Heaven,  and  thus 
commended  to  the  watchfulness  and  tenderness 
of  the  church  on  earth.  "  The  blade"  of  piety 
has  the  promise  of  » the  early  rain,"  just  that  the 
car  and  the  full  com  in  the  ear  may  come  on  to 
meet  "  the  latter  rain." 

But  wliilst  the  first  appearances  of  heartfelt 
piety  are  thus  not  overlooked  by  the  Saviour, 
neilJicr  are  they  overrated  by  him.  The  reed, 
though  bruised,  is  called  a  reed  ;  but  it  is  not  com- 
yUmcni'd  as  sweet  enough  in  its  sound.  So  also, 
tlie  smoking  flax  is  not  threatened  with  quench- 
in!^  ;  but  neither  is  its  i^moUe.  commended.  In 
connection  with  both  emblems  it  is  added,  "  He 
shall  bring  forth  judgment  unto  truth."  In  pro- 
phetic language,  this  amounts  to  the  same  thing 
as  the  apostolic  promise,  "  He  who  began  the  good 
work,  will  carry  it  on."  Thus,  we  are  as  much 
bound  to  grow  in  grace,  as  we  are  encouraged  to 
trust  in  grace,  by  both  the  condescension  of  the 
Father,  and  the  tenderness  of  the  Son,  towards 
our  day  of  small  things. 

In  a  word,  it  must  not  be  always  a  day  of  small 
things  with  us;  for  we  may  soon  have  great  trials, 
or  great  temptations;  and  small  faith  or  patience 
will  not  sustain  them  well.  "  What  will  you  do 
in  the  day  of  visitation'?"  is,  therefore,  a  que.s- 
tion  which  ought  not  to  be  lost  sight  of  entirely, 
even  at  this  stage  of  your  e.xperience.  Do  not, 
indeed,  forbode  evil ;  but  do  not  forget  that  it  will 
come,  sooner  or  later,  in  some  form.  It  may  come 
very  hwjh,  and  severely  too,  if  you  sit  down  con- 
tented with  tliis  day  of  small  things.  Let  the  fol- 
lowmg  allegory  of  Rachel's  Leprosy,  teach  you 
wisdom.  And  be  not  discouraged,  because  you 
cannot  see  how  there  can  come  a  day  of  great 
things  in  your  experience.  You  may  acquire 
great  peace,  great  comfort,  and  great  influence. 
In  every  thing  gfwd,  you  may  be  much  greater 
than  you  arc  ;  and  although  you  will  never  call 
nor  think  your  holiness  great,  even  when  others 
fed  it  to  be  great  both  in  its  beauty  and  strength, 
rettolvc  that  it  shall  not  be  less  in  either  than  care 
can  make  it. 


ALLEGORY,  No.  1. 


KACHEL  8   LEPROSY. 

The  Iom  Hacchipurim,  or  the  great  day  of  atone- 
ment, drew  nigh  again ;  and  Shcshbazzar,  although 
"  old  and  gray-headed,"  prepared  to  appear  before 
(Jim!  in  Zion.  For  the  Bocrshebean  eagle  (as  Ra- 
rhe!  railed  him)  seemed  to  "renew  his  youth," 
annually,  from  the  very  moment  the  expiation 
tnimprt.s  hummoncd  the  tribes  to  Jerusalem. 
Their  nound  fell  on  his  ear,  like  a  voice  from  the 
excellent  glory  ;  and  their  signal  for  pilgrimage 


the  DAY  OF  DAYS,  that  he  might  learn,  as  he  said, 
from  the  High  Priest,  to  enter  within  the  veil  of 
eternity,  bearing  only  the  blood  and  mcense  of 
propitiation,  as  all  his  introduction  and  plea.  Thus 
his  spirit  passed  into  the  Holy  of  Hohes  even  be- 
fore the  High  Priest ;  and  often  Imgered  at  the 
mercy-seat,  or  bathed  in  the  Sheckinah  of  glory, 
lontr  after  He  had  come  out  to  bless  the  people. 
That  benediction,  Sheshbazzar  welcomed  as  his 
own  warrant  to  kneel  in  spirit,  where  the  priest 
had  ministered  ;  and  thus  to  realize  his  own  en- 
trance  into  heaven.  „  j  .• 

This  was  his  meaning  when  he  called  his 
piVrimacre,  his  translation ;  and  his  staff  and  scrip, 
his°  chariot  and  horses  of  fire ;  for  _  Beersheba, 
compared  with  Jerusalem,  was  to  him,  on  that 
solemn  feast  day,  as  the  earth  compared  with 
heaven.  And  yet  Beersheba  was  dear  to  the 
good  old  man  :  for  Abraham's  well  w^as  still  there ; 
and,  although  the  trees  of  Abraham's  grove  had 
passed  away,  like  the  Angels  who  once  rested 
under  their  shadow,  "  the  place  thereof  "  was  not 
unknown.  Oaks  of  Manire,  and  palm  trees  of 
Lahairoi,  had  replaced  them.  Sheshbazzar  often 
drank  at  that  well,  and  mused  in  that  spot,  in  the 
very  spirit  of  its  Patriarchal  owner,  and  of  its  An- 
gelic visiters.  Still  it  was  not  Zion  !  It  was  the 
sepulchre  of  his  fathers  and  of  his  children,  but  it 
was  not  the  sanctuary  of  his  God.  His  Fig 
Tree  was  there  ;  but  his  Tree  of  Life  was  upon 
Mount  Zion. 

The  prospect  of  his  translation  did  not,  how- 
ever, so  absorb  his  spirit,  as  to  divert  his  sympa- 
thies from  those  who  had  to  stay  at  home.  Hav- 
ing, like  Elijah,  thrown  his  mantle  over  Esrora 
and  Rachel,  he  continued  to  commune  with  them, 
until  the  moment  of  his  departure ;  and  to  pray 
that  a  double  portion  of  his  spirit  might  rest  upon 
them.  And  never  did  they  stand  in  more  need  of 
counsel  or  prayer.  They  had  been  betrothed  in 
the  month  Nisan ;  but  when  the  Tisri  trumpets 
were  blown,  Esrom  showed  no  inclination  to  go 
up  to  Jerusalem.  He  was  not  "  glad"  when 
Sheshbazzar  said  unto  him,  "  Let  us  go  up  to  the 
house  of  the  Lord."  He  had  tried  to  persuade 
himself,  that  it  was  not  his  duiy  this  year  !  Rachel 
was  drooping  m  both  health  and  spirits  :  and  surely 
it  could  not  bo  duty  to  leave  her  alone  !  She  her- 
self tried  to  tiiink  that,  for  once,  Esrom  might  be 
excused  ;  for  she  felt,  at  times,  as  low  as  if  the 
Angel  of  Death  was  not  far  off.  Even  Sheshbaz- 
zar was  uneasy  on  her  account.  He  feared  some- 
thing xvorse  than  death  :  for  Rachel's  mind  was 
one,  which  might  be  thrown  ofT  its  balance  by 
excess  of  either  grief  or  joy.  Its  very  strength 
was  more  perilous  than  weakness ;  because  she 
put  it  all  forth  upon  whatever  interested  her  feel- 
ings deeply.  She  threw  her  whole  soul,  equally, 
into  human  and  Divine  things,  by  turns.  On  the 
day  of  her  betrothment,  she  thought  of  nothing; 
else  ;  and  on  the  day  after,  which  was  the  Sab- 
bath, she  was  so  absorbed  by  Sheshbazzar's  expo-i 
sition  of  the  L»w  and  the  Prophets,  in  the  syna-' 
gogue,  that  she  forgot  it  entirely.  | 

Even  next  morning,  she  met  Esrora  without 


THE    MARTHAS, 


alluding  to  their  plighted  vows.  She  was  still  in 
ecstacy  with  a  Sabbath  which,  she  said,  had  been 
to  her  a  fragment  of  the  first  Sabbatli  of  Time, 
and  a  foretaste  of  the  first  Sabbath  of  Eternity. 
Esrom  felt  piqued,  and  asked,  sarcastically,  "  Did 
Adam  pray  like  the  Elders,  or  will  Angels  sing 
like  the  choirs  of  Beersheba  7"  This  association 
of  ideas  was  ludicrous.  It  threw  her  off  her 
guard :  and,  for  the  first  tunc,  Rachel  criticised 
the  tones  and  terms  of  public  worship.  Until 
that  moment,  she  had  thought  of  nothing,  but  their 
spirit  and  design  :  but,  from  that  moment,  she 
began  to  weigh  them,  not  only  in  the  balance  of 
the  sanctuary,  but  also  in  the  scales  of  taste. 
They  were  "found  wanting"  in  both;  and  she 
wondered  that  she  had  overlooked  their  defects  so 
long.  It  was  an  unhappy  discovery  !  She  re- 
solved to  improve  the  form  of  her  own  devotions  : 
for,  hitherto,  she  had  adopted  whatever  petition 
came  tvarm  from  the  Hps  of  the  Elders ;  and  had 
thought  only  of  what  she  wanted.  Now,  she  be- 
gan to  think  more  about  her  words  than  her  wants  ; 
and  tried  oftener  to  adore  like  a  seraph,  than  to 
pray  like  a  penitent.  Sublimity  became  her  study. 
Humihty  was  left  to  accident.  Siie  could  trust 
her  heart,  (she  said  to  herself,)  that  it  would  never 
relapse  into  hardness  or  coldness.  It  had  been 
melted  and  warmed  by  the  holy  fire  of  heaven ; 
and  she  took  for  granted,  that  the  glow  would 
never  decay.  Surely  the  principle  of  grace  might 
be  as  safely  trusted  to  its  own  vitality,  upon  the 
altar  of  the  soul,  as  the  sacred  fire  upon  the  altar 
of  the  temple  !  She,  at  least,  was  sure  that,  after 
what  she  had  seen  and  felt  herself  to  be  as  a  sin- 
ner, nothing  could  inflate  or  deaden  her  spirit  as 
a  penitent. 

She  thus  trusted  her  own  heart ;  and  it  betrayed 
lier !  It  soon  took  more  interest  in  her  nuptial 
preparations,  than  in  her  closet,  or  in  her  copy  of 
the  Law.  She  was  no  longer  humble  before  God. 
She  never  forgot  "  the  Grapes  of  Gomorrah  ;" 
but  she  no  longer  loept  when  she  remembered 
them.  Her  old  ambition  to  dazzle  or  puzzle 
others  in  company,  returned  on  her.  She  was 
upon  the  watch  for  opportunities  to  shine  in  con- 
versation, whenever  Sheshbazzar  was  not  present. 
She  almost  claimed  credit  for  her  piety  from  the 
Elders ;  for  having  lost  much  of  the  witness  of 
her  own  spirit,  she  sought  relief  in  the  good  opi- 
nion of  others.  But  she  oftener  startled  the  El- 
ders, than  conciliated  them,  by  her  professions. 
Some  doubted  her  sincerity,  and  others  her  ortho- 
doxy; and  she  felt  equally  mortified  by  both. 
There  was  bitterness  as  well  as  truth  ;  sarcasm 
as  well  as  sorrow,  in  her  lips,  when  she  said  of 
them,  "that  Angels  were  better  judges  of  repent- 
ance." Sheshbazzar  had  thrown  out  the  same 
hint  to  the  Elders,  but  in  another  spirit.  He  smil- 
ed complacently,  whilst  he  said  to  them,  "You 
will  soon  be  as  glad  as  Gabriel  was,  when  he  put 
Rachel's  tears  into  the  urn  of  heaven  ;  he  had 
seen  none  purer,  since  Hannah  wept  before  the 
Lord  in  Shiloh."  The  Elders  had  said  to  him, 
"  Her  tears  may  be  in  your  book,  but  they  are 
not  in  his  bottle  yet."  It  was  a  harsh  speech  ; 
and  yet,  they  meant  no  harm.  Rachel  had  long 
been  a  mystery  to  them ;  for  although  she  never 
spoke  "  as  one  of  the  foohsh  women,"  neither  did 
she  speak  like  the  generality  of  the  wise  women. 
61  (14) 


She  was  often  more  mystical  than  the  woman  ot 
Tekoah,  and  more  poetical  than  Deborah,  the  wife 
of  Lapidoth.  When  she  called  tjie  stars,  shecki- 
nahs  in  miniature,  the  old  men  thought  her  pro- 
fane; when  she  said,  the  sun  was  an  emblem  and 
a  pledge,  that  the  glory  between  the  Cherubim 
would,  one  day,  fill  the  whole  earth,  they  deemed 
her  insane,  or  too  partial  to  the  Gentiles ;  and 
when  she  doubted  their  interpretation,  of  botli  the 
hardening  of  Pharaoh's  heart,  and  the  hatred  of 
Esau,  by  God,  they  almost  charged  her  with  blas- 
phemy. Thus  it  was  not  wonderful,  that  they 
were  but  slow  of  heart  to  believe  her  to  be  a 
daughter  of  the  Covenant.  Her  speech,  they  said 
truly,  "  was  hardly  the  language  of  Canaan ;"  for 
it  was  never  much  according  to  the  sJdbboleih  of 
the  wise,  nor  the  sibboleth  of  the  weak  ;  and  now 
it  was  less  so  than  ever.  "  Out  of  the  abundance 
of  the  heart,  tlie  mouth  speaketh  ;"  and  Racliel's 
heart  abounded  now  with  tastes,  emotion?,  and 
aspirations,  which  sober  truth  could  not  satisfy, 
nor  ordinary  teachers  please.  When  Sheshbazzar 
was  not  in  the  synagogue,  she  often  stayed  at 
home  on  the  Sabbath.  She  could  get  "  no  good," 
she  said,  "  from  the  common-place  of  the  dry  El- 
ders, nor  from  the  whining  of  the  irep/)?>?^'- Eiders, 
nor  from  tlie  thundering  of  the  fiery  Elders.  Me- 
rab  was  too  controversial ;  Jeduthun,  too  legal ; 
Jubal,  too  declamatory  ;  and  Hamath,  too  hasty. 
Except,  therefore,  when  Sheshbazzar  spoke,  Ra- 
chel hardly  listened.  She  preferred  her  own 
"  worldless  thoughts,"  she  said,  "  to  their  un- 
thouglitful  and  low  words." 

Esrom  ministered  to  this  fastidious  taste.  She 
herself  had  never  thought  of  bringing  the  prayers 
of  the  Elders  to  its  bar,  until  he  obtruded  them 
upon  her  notice.  Her  own  spirit  had  long  been 
too  devotional,  to  weigh  the  words  or  notice  the 
tones  of  those  who  led  tlie  synagogue  of  the  peo- 
ple to  the  Throne  of  Jehovali.  Even  when  the 
Elders  who  had  wounded  her,  lifted  up  their  hands 
in  prayer,  her  heart,  whilst  simple,  forgot  all  their 
faults  and  defects,  and  felt  only  that  God  was  lis- 
tening ! 

Sheshbazzar  had  often  said  to  her,  "  Remem- 
ber ;  God  only  is  addressed  in  prayer.  You  are 
no  longer  a  hearer,  when  His  worship  begins. 
You  are  then  speaking  unto  the  Lord  ;  and  what 
you  have  to  say  to  Him,  is  too  solemn  to  depend 
upon  words  or  tones.  Let  your  heart  pray  for 
mercy  and  grace :  and  it  will  ascend  to  heaven 
like  Manoah's  angel  in  the  flame  of  the  sacrifice, 
even  if  the  altar  be  an  nnhewn  rock." 

In  the  sun  of  such  sentiments  Rachel's  devo- 
tional spirit  had  ripened  ;  and,  until  Esrom  blight- 
ed it,  by  criticising  the  prayers  of  the  Elders,  no- 
thing that  they  were  as  men,  or  had  said  as  judges 
had  even  tarnished  the  bloom  of  her  devotional 
simpHcity.  Or  as  Sheshbazzar  had  often  e.xprcssed 

it, place  her  only  before  the  Throne,  and  her 

heart  is  a  harp  which  will  yield  melody  unto  the 
Lord,  at  the  touch  of  any  "holy  hands,"  whether 
laic  or  levitical. 

Such  it  had  been,  whilst  Sheshbazzar  was  the 
depositary  of  all  its  secrets.  Such  he  himself 
often  found  it,  when  he  led  the  devotions  of  the 
synagogue.  But  ever  since  her  betrothment,  it 
had  oft'en  been  untuned.  Her  plans— her  proa- 
pects— her  arrangements,  for  the  day  when  ehe 


THE    MARTHAS. 


lU  ^_____-_— ^— 

«houl7bT'b.^^ht  to  the  house  of  Esrom,  "in  i  righteous,"  whenever  she  entered  upon  its  ma- 
raiment  of  neeXwork  -L  virgins,  her  compa-  nagement.  In  i^s  closet,  she  was  sure  to  renew 
^rrfolb^nrwh  gladness  and  rejoicing,"  had  lier  communion  vvith  God  !-at  t^s  family  altar, 
more  than  Sed  hfr  heart,  even  m  the  closet :  sure  to  pray  m  the  spirit?  by  Us  hearth  m  the 
ri  in  the  svnago..ue,  they  often  diverted  it  from  evening,  and  under  its  fig-tree  in  the  mornmg, 
both  the  wo  d  and^v;rsh.p  of  Jehovah.  Shesh-  I  sure  to  shake  off  from  Esrom  and  herse  f,  all  the 
bazzar  did  not  suspect  this':  He  saw,mdeed,  that  mUdew  of  backsliding!  Nothing  of  this  however, 
Rachel's  preparations  were  upon  a  scale  worthy  1  was  attempted  m  the  mean  time.  All  iniprove- 
of  her  tribe  and  her  parentage  ;  and  that  lier  own  j  mcnt,  and  penitence  too,  was  postponed  until 
taste  would  preside  over  evorj-  thing-from  her  Sheshbazzar  should  "sanctify  the  household  of 
own  robes,  to  the  veils  of  horinaidens,  and  even  the  betrothed,  upon  his  return  from  Jerusalem 
down  to  tlie  lamps  and  torches  of  the  procession.  But,  before  he  returned,  Rachel  was  become  "A 
But  why  not  ]     Who  had  such  exquisite  taste?—    Leper,  white  as  snow!  ,   ^    ,     ,    , 

"  Rachel  is,  mdeed,  troubled  about  many  things,"        No  symptoms  of  this  avvful  malady  had  shown 
said  the  old  man  ;  "but  her  good  sense  is  a  pledge  j  itself,  vyhen  Sheshbazzar  left  Beersheba.    He  had 
tliat  nothing  will  be  extravagant  or  vain.     She  is 
sure  to  adorn  herself  and  otiiers,  only  according 
to  the  manner  of  holy  women  of  old.    There  may 


be  "nets  of  checker-work  and  wreatlis  of  chain- 
work"  here  and  tliere  in  h'^r  arrangements,  as 
around  the  pillars  of  the  temple  ;  but  tlie  crown  of 
the  whole,  like  tlie  capitals  of  Jachin  and  Boaz, 
and  the  borders  of  the  molten  Sea,  will  be  '  lily 
icurk  ;'  tlie  still  grandeur  of  gracefulness,  the  calm 
majesty  of  meekness ;  as  from  the  chisel  of  Hiram 
of  TvTe." 

Shesiibazzar  did  not  know  that  Rachel  had 
plunged  into  the  bustle  of  preparation,  in  order  to 
forget  her  penitential  vows,  and  to  hide  from  her- 
self the  backslidings  of  her  own  heart.  And,  had 
her  heart  still  been  what  he  supposed,  he  would 
have  been  more  than  justified  in  taking  for  grant- 
ed, that  she  would  plan  and  execute  all  things  as 


marked  the  throb  of  her  veins,  and  felt  her  hand 
burn,  and  seen  the  hectic  flush  and  the  pallid  hue 
succeed  each  other  on  her  cheek,  without  increas- 
ing or  diminishing  the  strange  glaze  of  her  eyes  : 
but  he  dreamt  not  of  leprosy.  There  was  no 
"bright  spot  in  the  skin,"  and  no  "whiteness  in 
the  hair  ;"  and  thus,  although  he  parted  from  her 
with  a  heavy  heart,  it  was  mental,  not  bodily,  dis- 
ease he  foreboded  ;  and  that  fear,  he  was  too  wise 
to  utter  or  betray.  He  blessed  Rachel,  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  and  placed  himself  as  usual  at 
the  head  of  his  brethren,  to  conduct  them  to  Zion. 
Sheshbazzar  exemplified  at  Jerusalem,  the  spirit 
of  his  favorite  maxim :  he  shook  tJie  mulberry- 
trees  of  every  typical  ordinance,  and  prophetic 
promise.  He  was  the  first,  daily,  at  the  morning 
sacrifice,  and  the  last  to  retire  fi-om  the  evening 
sacrifice:  the  first  at  the   altar  of  burnt-ofFering, 


in  thp  sight  of  God.     For,  until   Esrom's  critical    and  tlie  last  at  the  altar  of  incense.     When  the 


levity  betrayed  iier  devotional  spirit,  she  could 
turn  any  series  of  domestic  duties  into  a  Bethel 
Ladiler  between  earth  and  heaven.  But,  when 
she  became  a  critic  in  the  house  of  prayer,  she 
soon  lost  her  simplicity  in  the  closet.  At  first, 
she  was  shocked  on  discovering,  that  unhallowed 
xs^ociations  of  the  ludicrous  or  frivolous,  were 
blending    themselves    with   phrases   which  once 


Levites  walked  in  procession  around  the  altars, 
waving  the  palms  of  Judah,  and  .mounding  the  sil- 
ver trumpets  of  the  Great  Hosanna,  no  vocal 
hosanna,  amongst  the  thousands  of  Israel,  swelled 
above  Sheshbazzar's.  Like  the  eagle  mounting 
upon  the  summits  of  Gerrizzim,  the  old  man  seem- 
ed to  renew  his  youth,  whilst  thus  waiting  upon 
the  God  of  his  fathers  in  Zion.     When  his  fellow- 


breathed  her  holiest  feelings.  Then,  she  could  !  pilgrims  could  distinguish  him  in  the  great  congre- 
not  use,  in  the  closet,  expressions  she  had  blamed,  |  gation,  or  at  the  waters  of  Siloa.  they  saw,  from 
or  sniiled  at,  in  the  synagogue.  Then,  she  sat  i  his  looks,  that  he  was  shaking  the  mulberry-trees, 
musing  in  silence  about  prayer,  instead  of  kneeling  {  and  like  the  fleece  of  Gideon,  was  saturated  with 
before  the  Lord  with  supplication.     At  length,  she    the  dew  of  heaven. 

became  equally  ashamed  and  afraid  to  be  alone  }  When  the  lom  Hacchipurim  ended,  they  pre- 
witii  God !  pared  to  return  to  Beersheba  ;  and  Sheshbazzar 


Thus  Rachel's  heart  condemned  her,  and  to  es- 
cape from  its  censures,  she  filled  her  hands,  to 
overflowing,  with  the  duties  of  her  betrothment ; 
leaving  neither  time  nor  thought  for  any  thing  be- 
yond the  ceremonials  of  religion.  She  fasted 
without  humility,  and  worshipped  without  love, 
except  when  Sheshbazzar  presided.  And  even 
then,  he  wa.s  often  to  her,  only  "  as  one  that  play- 
eth  well  upon  an  instrument." 

.Mi  thin  process  and  result  of  spiritual  defection 
she  concealed  from  him.  She  tried  to  persuade 
horsclf  lliat,  like  the  cloud  which  had  occasionally 
come  over  hr-r  spirit,  before  she  knew  the  Lord  ; 
and  which,  when  it  pap.sed  off,  left  her  more  cheer- 
ful than  It  had  found  her ;  so  this  hiding  of  the 
Divine  presence  would  onlv  be  temporary,  and 
enh  inre  the  brightness  of  the  Candle  of  the  Lord, 
when  a  Hhould  shine  upon  her  oi/-;j  tabernacle :  for 
8he  had  vowed,  that  the  iiouae  of  Esrom  and  Ra- 
chel should  be  in  all  thmgs  "the  tabernacle  of  the 


was,  as  usual,  their  guiding  pillar  in  the  wilderness. 
"  We  have  been,  my  children,  like  the  spies,"  he 
said,  "  searching  the  land  of  promise  ;  what  have 
we  to  show  at  home  as  the  fruit  of  it?  Grapes, 
or  wild  gourds  ?  Not  the  latter,  I  am  quite  sure  ! 
But,  have  we  cut  such  a  cluster  of  the  grapes  of 
Eschol,  as  to  require  '  two  men  to  carry  it  between 
them  on  a  staflf?'  Or  have  we  merely  an  untimely 
fig,  and  an  imripe  pomegranate,  hanging  at  our 
girdle?  We  ought  not  to  carry  home  a  bad  re- 
port of  the  goodly  land.  There  were  large  and 
ripe  clusters  on  Mount  Zion :  what  can  we  show 
as  the  fruit  of  it?  A  spirit,  meek  as  the  lily  of  the 
valley,  fragrant  as  the  rose  of  Sharon,  and"  pure  as 
the  waters  of  Siloa  ?  It  ought  to  be  so.  Those 
who  tarried  at  home  will  expect  to  divide  the  spoil 
with  us.  Esrom  and  Rachel,  especially,  will  look 
tome  for  the  first  ripe  fruits.  Gleanings  will  not 
satisfy  them."  Thus  he  talked  by  the  way. 
"  B'lt  who  is  this— that  cometh  up  from  the  wil- 


THE    MARTHAS. 


11 


derness,  leaning  on  her  beloved  1"  It  was  Rachel  We  are  not  so  susceptible  or  watchful  in  all  things 
now  a  leper,  white  as  snow,  leaning  on  Esrom.  \  now,  as  when  we  first  said  to  ourselves,  whilst 
The  pilgrims  shrunk  back,  and  stood  afar  off.  weeping  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  "Without holi- 
They  were  ready  to  exclaim,  "  God  has  rejected  ness  I  shall  not  see  the  Lord."  Then,  all  our  old 
her,  although  you  vouched  for  her."  Sheshbazzar  regrets,  and  all  our  new  desires,  and  all  our  hopes 
turned  to  them  with  tlie  majesty  of  an  angel,  say-  and  fears  for  eternity,  threw  light  upon  the  mean- 
ing, "  There  is  hope  in  Israel  concerning  this  ing  of  holiness,  and  warmth  into  the  resolution  to 
thing.  It  is  of  the  Lord  ;  but  it  is  for  good,  as  in  follow  it,  through  good  report  and  bad  report, 
the  case  of  Miriam."  Turning  to  Rachel,  with  }  Thus  the  maxim  was  mighty,  whilst  we  were 
the  mildness  of  an  angel,  he  said,  "  Though  you  j  melted  with  the  wonders  of  redeeming  love,  and 
have  lain  among  the  pots,  yet  shall  you  be  as  the  I  awed  by  the  solemnities  of  etcrnitv. 


wings  of  a  dove,  covered  with  silver,  and  her  fea- 
thers with  yellow  gold." 


No.  II. 

VARIETIES    FROM    OVERSIGHT. 

It  is  quite  possible  to  have  a  sincere  desire  to 
be  holy,  and  even  to  have  some  real  love  to  holi- 
ness, and  yet  to  overlook,  not  only  some  of  the 
virtues  or  graces  of  a  holy  character,  but  also 
some  of  the  most  effectual  means  of  becoming 
holy.  A  very  great  point  is  gained,  however, 
when  even  one  evangehcal  motive  to  holiness  ac- 
quires, either  as  a  check  or  as  a  cliarm,  sanctify- 
ing influence  over  our  cliaracter.  And,  happily, 
the  motive  or  consideration  which  first  lays  hold 
upon  the  conscience  is,  usually,  the  solemn  fact, 
that  "  without  Holiness  no  one  shall  see  the  Lord." 
This  is  a  consideration  which  may  well  awe  and 
influence  both  our  habits  and  spirit :  and  there- 
fore, it  is  well  that  it  is,  in  general,  the  first  to  ri- 
vet our  attention.  Perhaps  no  other  motive  is 
so  well  suited,  at  first,  to  our  condition,  when  we 
are  just  setting  out  in  the  Divine  life.  It  is  rea- 
dily understood,  and  easily  remembered.  And  as 
it  is  the /car  of  not  seeing  God  in  heaven  at  last, 
quite  as  much  as  the  desire  of  seeing  Him,  that 
influences  our  choice,  we  really  need  a  motive 
which  can  work,  at  once  upon  both  our  hopes  and 
fears  ;  for  one  that  appealed  to  either  exclusively, 
would  defeat  itself  then.  An  increase  of  fear 
without  hope,  or  of  hope  without  any  fear,  would 
do  us  no  real  good. 

I  do,  therefore,  congratulate  you  upon  the  hold 
which  this  familiar,  but  powerful  motive,  has  ob- 
tained upon  your  understanding  and  conscience. 
Its  authority  over  you  is  a  good  sign.  It  is,  in- 
deed, no  small  proof  of  being  "led  by  the  Spirit :" 
for  as  many  as  have  been  led  by  Him,  began  to 
follow  holiness,  because,  "without"  it,  "no  man 
shall  see  the  Lord."  It  is,  however,  worthy  of 
special  attention,  that  all  who  have  ever  made 
any  great  progress  in  following  hohness,  have  had 
to  try  the  force  of  other  motives.  Indeed,  they 
have  found  it  necessary  to  do  so  ;  on  finding  that 
this  one  did  not  carry  them  far  enough,  or  not  so 
far  as  it  did  at  first. 

This  is  only  what  might  be  expected.  No  si?i- 
gle  motive,  however  sweet  or  solemn,  can  be 
equally  imluential  at  all  times,  or  in  all  duties. 
Our  circumstances  change  ;  and  we  change  with 
them,  not  a  little.  Our  best  frames  of  mind  too, 
are  not  permanent.  Even  our  "  first  love,"  al- 
though it  has  not  "  waxed  cold"  exactly,  has  lost 
much  of  its  original  simplicity  and  tenderness. 


Now,  we  recollect  this  well.  We  cannot  for- 
get it.  Accordingly,  whenever  we  so  fall  off  from 
the  rule  or  the  spirit  of  holiness,  as  t.«  be  startled 
at  the  declension,  or  to  become  afraid  of  conse- 
quences, we  naturally  say  to  ourselves,  "  Ah,  this 
is  the  sad  effect  of  losing  my  first  love.  Could  1 
j  only  recall  the  days  of  old,  when  my  heart  was 
all  tenderness,  and  my  conscience  all  timidity,  I 
should  find  my  old  maxim  as  powerful  and  sutR- 
cient  as  ever."  We  have  not  a  doubt  of  this. 
We  are  quite  sure,  that  we  should  soon  act  as 
well  as  ever,  if  we  could  only  feel  again  as  we  did 
at  first.  And  there  can  be  no  doubt,  that  a  re- 
newed sense  of  redeeming  love  and  of  eternal 
things,  would  give  great  practical  power  to  the 
command,  "  Follow  holiness  ;  without  which  no 
one  shall  see  the  Lord."  The  real  question  is, 
however,  how  to  get  back  that  state  of  mind  1  It 
does  not  return  of  itself,  nor  is  it  always  found 
even  when  sought  for  with  tears.  Something 
good  is,  indeed,  always  found  in  answer  to  fervent 
prayer :  but  it  is  not  often  that  even  such  prayer 
brirgs  back  all  the  light  and  love  of  the  days  of 
old.  Even  when  it  does,  they  are  not  such  long 
days  as  they  were  at  first,  nor  do  they  follow  each 
other  in  such  close  succession. 

You  have  observed  and  deplored  aU  this.  Did 
it  ever  occur  to  you,  that  there  is  no  small  danger 
of  grieving  the 'Holy  Spirit,  by  thus  making  "the 
days  of  old,"  the  standard  for  our  present  piety  ? 
The  "good  work"  in  the  heart,  of  which  He  is 
the  author  and  finisher,  he  "  carries  on"  in  its 
goodness,  as  well  as  keeps  up  in  its  being.  Its 
mere  preservation  from  utter  extinetion  is  not  his 
great  object.  His  care  over  "  the  root  of  the 
matter,"  is  for  the  sake  of  the  fruit  it  is  capable 
of  bearing.  Accordingly,  whenever  we  become 
less  fruitful,  or  even  cense  trying  to  bring  forth 
more  fruit  than  we  began  with.  He  soon  makes 
us  to  feel  somewhat  doubtful  as  to  the  very  life  of 
the  root  itself  Indeed,  we  are  any  thing  but 
sure  that  the  root  of  the  matter  is  in  us  at  all, 
when  the  branches  of  our  profession  become  very 
barren.  They  will  not,  and  cannot,  he  very  fruit- 
ful, however,  if  we  grieve  the  Holy  Spirit,  by  ne- 
glecting or  overlooking  any  of  the  great  motives 
which  he  employs  for  sanctification. 

Now,  although  the  solemn  consideration  which 
I  have  been  commending  so  strongly,  is  one  of 
them,  and  a  motive  never  to  be  laid  aside  or  lost 
sight  of,  it  is  not  the  chief  motive  by  which  the 
Spirit  works.  He  generally  begins  with  it ;  but 
He  never  ends  with  it.  And  this  is  only  what 
mio-ht  be  expected  :  for  His  special  office  is  to 
glorify  Christ.  He  will  not,  therefore,  keep  up 
the  sanctifying  power  of  anv  motive,  however 
good,  which  is  allowed  to  take  that  place  mour 
attention,  which  belongs  to  the  Saviour. 


Now 


THE   MARTHAS. 


it  is  br  thr  clory  of  Chri«t,  as  that  shines  in  the  |  ran.  even  whilst  you  "did  run  well,    looking  to 

•    ■■    .   iat.on,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  changes    him  for  righteousness,  far  more  than  for  sanctifi- 

!hc  miatfe  of  Chris'i.     Thev  are  all    cation.     You  did  not,  mdeed,  orerZooA.  citlier  his 

•„  hecmifonnedtotheima^eofthe    image  or  his  example;  but  they  had   obtamed 

ah  tlie  Spirit  will  not  depart  from    from  you  nothing  like  the  same  degree  ot  atten- 

.•Jrt  will  lie  deviate  from  this  7node  ,  tion,  which  vou  gave  to  his  atonement  and  inter- 

.    ...D      Itwillbe  just  as  true  until  the    ce.«sion.     For  once  that  you  have  tried  to  cast 

cmi  ^;  i-iuc  ^  a  waj.  at  the  beginning  of  Clu-is-   yourself  into  "the  mould"  of  his  image,  you  have 

li-julv.  that  it  Id  by  -  boholding  with  open  face,  as   cast  yourself  a  thousand  times  upon  his  merits  and 

u.  >  'bIajm,  iJiC  glory  of  the  l>ord,"  that  we  are  i  grace.     Not,  however,  that  you  have  done  the 

cbAi)«fd   into  Uic  same  image,  bv  the  Lord  the  I  latter  too  often.     No,  mdeed  !     Nor  can  you  ever 

Sjunr     Ho  will,  indeed,  give  law' its  place,  and  |  do  it  too  often.     But  you  have  done  the  former 

■    iljj  place,  and  both   promises  and  i  too  seldom,  or  too  slightly.     So,  alas,  have  I ! 

.r  place,  m  making  us  partakers  of  |      Here,  then,  is  the  real  cause  of  declension  in 

.  .luie*s  :  but  ho  wiil  not  allow  one  of  j  piety  ;  our  leading  fault  and  our  chief  defect  are 

:...  I  ..  :..r  ivcn  the  whole  of  them,  to  displace  the  i  not  confronted  with  the  image  of  Christ  from  day 

Sa\  iour.     He  w  ill  make  him  all  in  all,  in  the  midst    to  day,  but  left  to  the  mere  restraint  of  ordinary 

of  all  the  means  by  which  he  sanctities  our  heart    motives  ;  and,  as  these   are  hardly  sufficient  to 

and  character.  i  sustain  even  what  is  best  and  strongest  in  our 

Now,  e\eu  jf  we  meant  well  in  trying  to  be  [  character,  it  is  no  wonder  that  what  is  worst  and 

holy,  on  the  strength  of  the  one  motive  which  first  i  weakest  grows  upon  us,  and  thus  brings  the  very 

•truck  ns,  it  w  no  wonder  tliat  its  original  influ-  '  spirit  of  piety  to  a  low  ebb.     In  a  word  ;  our  be- 

cncu   has  not  kept  us  as  it  began.      The  holy  { setting  sin  cannot  be  overcome,  nor  our  weak 

Spint  will  not  permit  even  the  holy  fear  of  not  j  side  cured,  by  leaving  them  to  take  their  chance, 

'  tveing  tJie  Lord"  at  last,  to  e.vempt  us  from  the  i  in   common   with   those  points  of  our  character 

which  are  easily  kept  right.  What  is  bad  cannot 
be  remedied,  by  the  force  of  the  general  consi- 
derations which  support  what  is  good  about  us  ; 
any  more  than  food  can  heal  a  wound,  or  clothing 
cure  a  fever.  It  is  medicine,  not  food,  that  cures 
bodily  disease :  and  it  is  the  special,  not  the  ge- 
neral motives  to  holiness,  that  can  alone  remove 
moral  defects. 

It  is,  I  am  aware,  much  more  common,  in  speak- 
ing on  this  subject,  to  hear  it  said  of  our  chief 
faults  and  defects,  "This  kind  goeth  not  out  but 
by  prayer  and  fasting."  And  this  is  perfectly 
true,  if  the  maxim  be  taken  (as  the  Saviour  in- 
tended it  to  be)  always  in  connection  with  learn- 
ing of  Him,  and  setting  His  image  and  example 
before  us.  Apart  from  doing  that,  however,  even 
special  prayer,  and  literal  fasting,  will  not  "cast 
out"  a  wrong  habit  nor  a  rash  spirit,  effectually. 
Accordingly,  we  have  prayed,  at  times,  very  fer- 
vently, against  the  tendencies  and  temptations 
which  betray  us  oftenest ;  and  yet  we  have  been 
soon  betrayed  by  them  again.  Indeed,  it  has  not 
always  been  from  the  want  of  trying  to  stand,  that 


duty  of  contemplating  "  the  glory  of  the  Lord" 
ituw. 

It  may  suit  our  sloth,  or  our  convenience,  or 
CT.-  «cI.'-<  rimplacencv,  to  take  for  granted  that  we 

•  ry  well  in  following  holiness,  by  re- 
-  necessity  as  meetness  for  heaven  : 

■  ■•  not  suit  the  glory  of  Christ;  and, 
L.trixrc.  tljc  Spirit  will  not  work  long,  nor  wit- 
I.CM  much,  with  this  single  fact,  solemn  as  it  is. 
By  »ome  priKcss  of  conviction  or  chastisement, 
Ik:  w  ill  compol  us  to  lfx)k  sharply  and  seriously 
aUiut  UK,  for  something  more  than  a  vague  fear  of 
hcU,  or  a  faint  hope  of  heaven,  as  the  means  of 
wijcuficauon.  In  a  word,  Chklst  must  be  "  made 
uoto  ua  sanclification,"  as  well  as  "  wisdom, 
nghtcouniiiiMs  and  redemption."  1  Cor.  i.  30. 
^  Dooii  thw  ilirow  any  light  upon  your  case? 
Y  -I  h  <•.<■  both  wondcn-d  and  wept,  because  you 
iind  yourself  going  AacA-,  rather  than 
'y  ;  altliouph  you  were  not  consci- 

,'  xivrn  up  or  lost  sight  of  any  of  the 
Kcj.y  ij«oUvu«  you  U-gaii  with.     You  have  never 
changed  your  opinion  of  the  beauty  of  holiness, 
nor  l<^t  your  conviction  of  ,t^  necessity;  and  yet   we  l";ave  To  ofte 
oeiUicr  your  opinion  nor  your  iH.T«ui.8ion  has  kent  I  even  think  «»  „ 


70U  up       ,t,o  mark  of  jour  tirst  ellorts.  in  run-  !  some  duty,  or  faUing  into  some  wron|  spirit :  but 

we   knew   the   contrary.      We   have  not,    alae. 


•  net    before  you.     You  "  did   run 
•u  began   to  follow   holiness  ;  but 

■  II  hlackened  your  pace,  and  even 
h<-  way.     "  \\  hat  did  hinder  you  .'" 

•  intend  to  .stop,  nor  expect  to  tire, 
'•n  iinagin.;  tliat  you  could  "  weary 


uprjn 
com 
Ihvr 


">c  can  toll  you,  or  you  can  easily 
I  explanation  of  this  falling  oil',  that 
■T>  wrong  habit  or  temper  to  grow 


done  all  to  stand,"  which  we  might  have  done  . 
but  we  have  done  more  than  others  give  us  cre- 
dit for  at  times,  and  suffered  more  too  than  they 
imagine.     Any  one  can  see  our  faults  :  but  God 
w  11""^'^  ""''  ^^"'f^g'^s  against  them. 
NVcll ;  the  great  reason  why  these  struggles 
are  so  unsuccessful  often,  is,  that  we  pray  and  plan 
without  having  the  image  of  Christ  distinctly  be- 
n  you.  or  i.K.k  up  unduly  with 'somo\";.HWv  I '""f^r""' °' '^''''?"V''"''"^^  chiefly  to  that  feature 
.fort,  and  ihuK  grly.l  tK.  Viy  s^r     V  Kv  u^^^  "  most  imperfectly  reflected 

e  «  but  t.M  miK^h  truth  in  li.iJL..,'!.  ..V     i."'^     7  ","  ',  '^^    ^«  ^=1"  >'o  more  steer  a  right  course 

through  the  sea  of  hte  by  any  star  of  the  Saviour's 
cnaracter,  than  the  mariner  can  steer  through  the 
ocean  by  any  star  of  the  skies.  We  must  look 
oftenest  to  that  part  of  the  image  of  Christ,  which 
we  are  most  unlike.  And  this  must  bo  done  "  with 
open  face ;"  or  with  an  honest  desire  and  express 


'""ch  truth  in  this  account.  It  is 
r«.  hownvnr.  the  true  oxpanation  of  your  declen- 
•JOM.  h  us  ,n  fact.  ,i,.clf.  a  ,:«rt  of  your  falling 
o«  ami  not  ,hc  r.-al  cau-so  of  /t.  That  lay,  in  o^ 
-  Jookmjr  unto  J.,«u«  a-  the  Author  and  rfnisher" 
of  your  holinw..,  as  well  as  of  your  faitl       You 


THE    MARTHAS. 


13 


determination,   to   be    "changed  into   the   same 
image." 

Here,  now,  comes  on  the  trial  of  our  spirit,  and 
of  our  integrity  too.  Are  we  willing  to  learn  a 
neiv  lesson  ;  willing  to  try  a  neiv  experiment ;  will- 
ing to  make  a  neiv  elTort,  in  order  to  be  more  holy? 
Nothing  else  or  less  than  this,  can  cure  the  faults 
and  imperfections  we  confess  and  deplore.    Well ; 


Christ,  if  we  do  not  follow  the  leadings  of  His 
Spirit  to  the  glass  of  Revelation;  just  as  He 
drives  us  back  to  the  Cross  of  Christ,  when  we 
forsake,  or  stand  too  far  off  from  it. 

How,  then,  do  you  feel  inclined  towards  the 
duty  and  habit  of  »  beliolding  with  open  face  the 
glory  of  the  Lord,  that  you  may  be  changed  into 
,     ,  -      .„  ,     .       -  ^^^  image  7"     You  have  contemplated  his  glory, 

whether  wdl  you  go  on  confessing  and  deploring   that  you  might  be  pardoned  and  accepted      You 
them,  or  set  yourself  to  contemplate  the  glory  of  i  cannot  afford,  and  you  do  not  wish,  to  take  vour 

Christ  in  the  glass  of  Revelation,  that  that  part  of   ^  r  ^.     .-,        ,  .  ,  •  ...  J 

His  glory  which  reproves  them,  may  disperse 
them  also  J  Would  you  rather  succumb  to  them, 
than  conquer  them  at  this  e.xpense  of  time  and 
thought  ]  Would  you  rather  give  the  time  thus 
called  for,  to  prayer  for  the  forgiveness  of  them, 
than  to  meditation  for  their  removal  ?  Would 
you  rather  throw  them  on  the  blood  of  Christ  for 
pardon,  than  upon  the  image  of  Christ  for  sancti- 
fication  ? 

The  questions  are  bringing  out  the  secrets  of 
your  heart,  upon  the  very  surface  of  your  con- 
science !  Take  great  care,  however,  that  the  dis- 
coveries you  are  now  making  of  "what  is  in" 
you,  neitlier  discourage  you  too  much,  nor  irritate 
you  at  all :  for  it  is  as  possible  to  dispute  as  to  de- 
spond, when  the  une.xpected  discovery  of  some 
great  oversight  in  religion,  forces  home  upon  us 
the  conviction,  that  we  have  ahnost  to  begin 
anew,  or,  at  least,  to  take  new  lessons  on  sancti- 
fication.  We  do  not  hke  to  see  the  necessity  of 
thus  going  to  school  again  as  meekly  and  humbly, 
as  when  we  first  sat  down  at  the  feet  of  Christ, 
saying  with  child-like  simplicity,  "Lord,  what 
wouldst  thou  liave  me  to  do?"  Some,  when  they 
find  that  it  must  come  to  this,  begin  to  doubt  whe- 
ther all  their  past  experience  has  not  been  a  delu- 
sion :  and  others  allow  themselves  to  be  chafed 
into  an  impatient  or  speculative  spirit,  which  tries 
to  rid  itself  of  the  conviction,  tliat  new  lessons  and 
measures  are  thus  indispensable.  Thus,  just  ac- 
cording to  the  frame  of  our  mind  at  the  moment  of 
this  humiliating  discovery,  is  the  effect  of  the  dis- 
covery itself.  If  we  happen  to  be  rather  well 
pleased  with  the  state  of  our  piety  upon  the  whole, 
we  are  in  great  danger  of  straining  our  ingenuity, 
to  prove  that  we  are  doing  pretty  well,  without 
studying  tlie  image  of  Christ  more  than  usual. 
If,  again,  we  happen  to  be  in  Doubting  Castle, 
when  this  great  oversight  flashes  upon  our  spirit, 
we  are  but  too  ready  to  put  our  "  feet  into  the 
stocks"  of  utter  despondency,  or  to  conclude  tJiat 
we  were  never  converted  nor  sincere.  And,  if 
we  happen  to  bo  in  a  slothful  or  worldly  temper, 
when  we  are  brouglit  to  a  dead  stand  by  the 
startling  fact,  that  we  have  never  been  so  intent 
on  having  the  image  of  Christ  upon  our  soul,  as 
the  righteousness  of  Christ  upon  our  sins ;  then 
Satan  is  sure  to  set  our  wits  to  work,  to  find  out 
some  way  of  evading  the  new  duty,  without  e.x- 
actly  denying  the  necessity  of  more  holiness. 

I  need  not  tell  you  that,  in  this  case,  the  cnm- 
prnmising  spirit  is  the  most  dangerous.  The  ',  into  some  fatal  error  or  apostacy,  if  we  were  not, 
fainting  spirit,  though  painful,  is  not  perilous.  God  from  henceforth,  to  follow  holiness,  looking  to  the 
will  take  care  to  revive  it,  and  to  enable  it  to  look  i  image  of  Christ,  as  our  chief  model  and  motive, 
again  towards  His  holy  temple  :  but,  "with  the  [  Our  Bible,  remember,  brings  this  view  of  holi- 
froward,  He  wdl  show  himself  froward,"  and  by  |  ness  before  us,  in  a  very  peculiar  and  solemn  con- 
some  means  take  "  vengeance  on  their  inven-  j  nection  ;  and  we  have  no  right,  wliatever  be  our 
tions."     He  will  drive  us  by  rods  to  the  image  of  views  or  feelings  towards  the  word,  "  Predcstina- 


eye  off  from  the  glory  of  his  power,  wliich" 
save  to  the  uttermost ;  nor  from  tb.e  glory  of  his 
blood,  which  can  cleanse  from  all  sin ;  nor  from 
the  glory  of  his  righteousness,  which  can  justify 
even  the  ungodly  when  they  believe  ;  nor  from 
the  glory  of  his  grace,  wliich  is  sufficient  for  all 
emergencies ;  nor  from  the  glory  of  his  interces- 
sion, which  the  Father  heareth  always  with  com- 
placency ;  nor  from  the  glory  of  his  providence, 
which  maketh  all  things  work  together  for  good 
to  them  who  love  him.  In  reference  to  all  these 
features  of  the  Saviour's  personal  and  official  glo- 
ry, you  desire  "to  see  Jesus,"  and  neither  dread 
nor  deprecate  any  evil  so  much  as  that  of  any  "veil 
upon  your  heart,"  which  would  hide  this  bright- 
ness of  his  glory  from  your  eye,  or  hide  your  need 
of  it  from  your  conscience.  Thus,  Creation  would 
be  a  blank  to  you,  if  you  were  to  lose  sight  of  the 
glory  of  Christ.  Your  brightest  hope,  yea,  your 
fondest  desire,  even  in  regard  to  heaven  itself,  is, 
"to  see  him  as  he  is."  You  expect  far  more 
happiness  from  "beholding  the  glory  of  the  Lamb 
in  the  midst  of  the  throne,"  than  from  all  the  un- 
veiled scenes  and  secrets  of  the  natural  and  moral 
universe.  You  can  easily  conceive  how  you  will 
never  weary  through  eternity  in  looking  up  to 
him,  saying,  "  I  beseech  thee  show  me  thy  glory :" 
for  you  know  that  it  is  infinite ;  and,  therefore, 
that  every  new  form  of  it  can  only  be  the  harbm- 
ger  of  still  newer  and  nobler  manifestations 
"whUst  immortality  endures."  There!  I  knew 
how  you  would  feel  upon  this  point.  The  "  melo- 
dy of  your  heart"  is  now  quivering  upon  your 
Hps,  and  smdes  of  complacency  playing  amidst 
the  sweet  words, 

"  There  shall  we  see  his  face, 

And  never,  never  sin: 
And  from  the  rivers  of  his  grace, 

Drink  endless  pleasures  in  !" 

O,  you  are  not  the  woman,  who  should  be  afraid 
that  the  image  of  Christ  cannot  be  impressed  upon 
your  heart  and  character !  You  have  no  occa- 
sion to  despond  or  dispute,  in  the  presence  of  a 
new  lesson.  You  cannot  do  well  without  it,  now 
that  both  the  providence  and  the  spirit  of  God 
have  thus  forced  it  upon  your  notice.  Any  at- 
tempt to  do  without  it  now,  would  be  such  a  sin 
against  light ;  and,  in  your  case  and  mine,  such  an 
outrage  upon  conscience  and  reason,  that  wo 
could  look  for  nothing  else  than  to  be  left  to  fall 


THE    MARTHAS. 


,.on."  to  Boparatc  it  from  that  word  ;  for  God  has 
"u.-d  ttwnTtoeether  thus:  "for  wliom  he  did 
he  al^o  did  predestinate  to  be  conform- 


rt  kno«'. 


you  weary  of  your  closet  at  times,  and  are  often 


reluctant  togo  to  it,  as  well  as  lifeless  in  it    Thu. 
it  is  not  from  tiie  want  of  knowing  better,  that 


,..:  ..,  tiir  iinaeeof  his  Son."     Rom.  vm.  29.    The 

,  ,'  .  .«tv  of  thus  conformiiv,  or  likeness,  to  the 

',1  nwral  character  of  the  Saviour,  is  not  a 

■  ,  be  I'vadt'd,  bv  proving  or  disproving  the 

-•ic  nvHtein.     The  Arminian  and  the  Cal- 

;;,u«t  equally  admit  Uiat  whatever  prcdesti- 

.    •    -I  moan,  no  one  is  "  predestinated,"  but  f  )r  a 

,y.. .  ..uriKj^o.    Both  tlie  calling  and  election  taught 

lii  il.e  Hiblc,  is  "  unto  holines.s." 

I  have,  pcrhaiw.  less  patience  with  the  ^"'^«'" 
notions  of  prcdesiinalion  than  many.  Indeed,  1 
ao  not  bt-lieve  one  word  of  any  theory  of  sove- 
^.^,v.  the  letter  and  spirit  of  which  is  not  m  pcr- 
.-.   ■  ,  with  that  sacred  oracle.  "Elect,  ac- 

[  lort'knowiedge  of  God  the  Father, 

■  iiration  of  the  Spirit,  unto  obedience, 
ju  _:•..■  -iTiiikhngof  the  blood  of  Christ."  1  Pet. 
I.  i.  \\  heUier,  therefore,  I  take  "  predestinate" 
ID  the  sense  of  purixwc,  decree,  determination,  or 
ieaign,  I  cannot  help  seeing  the  sober  fact,  that 
G<)d  never  could  "predestinate"  one  class  of  his 
cliJdren  to  be  very  like  Chri.st,  and  another  to  be 
very  unlike  CUrvl.  (.'omnion  sense  revolts  from 
the'  gn«i  absurdity,  that  some  are  chosen  to  bo 
holy,  and  others  to'be  nearly  unholy  ;  that  one  is 
predctitinated  to  be  active,  and  another  to  be  idle  ; 
IJiat  a  few  arc  elected  to  be  amiable,  and  many 
to  Le  waspish  or  peevish.  No  meaning  of  the 
word  "  predestinate,"  will  agree  with  such  ano- 
molies.  .Now,  allhough  I  certainly  do  not  see  any 
ihini:  in  the  Bible,  which  conveys  the  shadow  of 
an  idea,  that  we  are  ciiosen  or  called  bccaiisp  of 
any  p<T«)nal  iioliness,  still,  I  cannot  but  see,  that 
all  predcslination,  as  taught  by  Chribt  and  his 
apoatic^.  IS  invariably  and  expressly,  in  order  to 
produce  Iioliness  of  heart  and  life. 

Notv,  in  what  do  you  fail  most  1  What  grace 
or  virtue  of  a  holy  character  do  you  find  most  dif- 
licdt  to  acquire  and  keep  up?  Perhaps  a  deio- 
Ivtnal  Mpirit :  that  grace  which  is  the  guardian  of 
ail  th«  rest!  If  this  bo  the  point  in  which  you 
fail  rliicfly,  you  certainly  do  not  fail  through  igno- 
rance of  ilJt  importance  ;  for  on  no  point  have  you 
more  knowlcdgo,  or  deeper  convictions.  I  mean, 
vou  can  neither  forget  nor  doubt  the  connection 
L>twe<ii  prayprfiihu'CH,  and  all  growth  in  grace. 
You  arc  quit»»  sure  that  you  rould  neither  gain 
mor«»  ijround  in  piety,  nor  even  keep  your  present 
proutid  long,  if  you  werf  to  give  up  secret  prayer. 
Vou  mtr,  at  a  glance,  how  the  utter  loss  of  a  de- 
votional unirit,  would  involve  the  certain  loss  of  all 
hope,  and  place  even  the  best  jwinta  of  your 
rharact<»r  in  imminent  peril.  It  is  not,  tiiere'forr 
from  any  d<mbt  of  ihf  inseparahle  conncrtinn  l)i' 
twcen  a  de^-otional  spirit,  and  Fonl-prosporitv,  that 
you  ever  boronu"  formal  or  heartless  in  voiir  clo- 
■cl.  Vou  may  lr>'  to  persuade  yourself  at  times, 
Ihal  Ui)  firayrr  will  answer  tho  purpose  of  keep- 
injf  up  Uith  your  hDjK-  and  consistency;  but  you 
tvsoT  imagin  •  that  thny  can  be  maintained  with- 
out any  prayr.  <  >r,  if  at  any  time  there  be  m> 
prayer,  it  m  because,  for  the  moment,  you  have 
"  n«)  hop*." 

Here,  then,  in  an  informed  judgment— a  persuad- 
cd  coniicience— a  feeling  heart,  upon  the  indispen- 
"'    "  '^y  of  a  devotional  spirit :  and  yet, 


vou  either  weary  or  decline  m  secret  prayer. 
Your  convictions  of  the  sm  and  danger  of  ne- 
crjectintr  vour  closet,  are  often  strongest  when  you 
are  most  estranged  from  it.  I  mean,  you  are 
sometimes  obliged  to  shut  your  eyes  when  pass- 
ing it,  or  hurrying  out  of  it;  the  glare  of  tiia 
Tuiltiness  is  so  blinding  and  painful !  You  cannot 
bear  to  iMvK  at  that  moment.  And  yet,  even 
then,  vou  intend,  yea,  vow  to  yourself,  to  shako 
oft-  this  lethargy ;  to  break  through  this  reluc^tance ; 
and  to  return  soon  to  your  "quiet  rest"  under  tlie 
mercy-scat ;  for  you  never  depart  from  it  in  dis- 
gust, nor  allow  yourself  to  be  drawn  away  from  it, 
without  leaving  at  it  the  promise  of  a  speedy  re- 
turn. Thus,  even  when  farthest  off  from  the 
throne  of  grace,  you  are  rather  a  ivanderer  than  a 
deserter. 

Has  there  been  mtich  of  this  wandering  back- 
ward and  forward  between  God  and  the  world, 
in  your  past  history !  Do  you  still  find  it  very 
diilicult  to  continue  "instant  (perserving)  in 
prayer?"  Is  the  disposition  to  wander  rather  on 
the"7?;r/rrt.v,  than  the  decrease  ?"  Do  you  "  quit 
the  horns  of  the  altar"  oftener,  or  longer  at  one 
time,  than  formerly  ?  If  so,  see  the  need  you  have 
to  get  hold  of  some  new  motive,  which  rnay  both 
rally  the  relaxed  power  of  your  old  motives,  and 
render  it  impossible  for  you  to  fail  or  faint  sro 
much  in  prayer.  Why;  without  this,  you  may 
come  to  "  restrain  prayer  before  God"  altogether ; 
and  then,  what  can  restrain  you  from  utter  apos- 
tacy  ? 

You  feel  this.  Well;  there  is  a  glory  in  the 
Intercession  of  Christ  in  heaven,  which  cannot 
fail,  if  duly  contemplated,  to  transform  you  into 
the  image  of  his  devotional  spirit  on  earth.  Its 
sweet  influence  cannot  be  resisted  nor  defeated, 
n  any  heart  that  has  ever  found  relief  in  prayer, 
or  that  yet  feels  the  necessity  of  prayer.  The 
glory  of  the  Saviour's  intercession  Jinll  chaiigo 
that  heart  into  more  of  the  image  of  his  heart, 
than  any  other  motive  which  can  be  employed  tor 
the  revival,  or  the  confirmation,  of  a  devotional 
spirit. 

In  asserting  this,  thus  strongly,  nothing  i.s 
farther  from  iny  design  than  to  convey  any  idt  a 
of  a  charm,  an  impulse,  or  an  influence,  which 
would  make  devotion  as  natural  and  easy,  as  if  i.- 
essential.  I  know  oi  x\o  spell  on  earth,  or  fnnii 
heaven,  which  could  keep  up  the  spirit  of  pravor, 
apart  from  "  watching  unto  prayer."  Whoever 
will  not  take  time,  and  heed,  and  care,  in  order  to 
maintain  devotional  habits,  will  find  no  substitnlr 
for  them,  in  sentimental  impulses,  or  in  ecstaii  ■ 
reveries.  Prayer  is  a  sober  and  solemn  dulij.  a^ 
a  sublime  privilege;  and, therefore,  the  duty  inir  ^ 
be  nerformed,  if  the  privilege  would  be  enjoyeil. 

The  glory  of  the  Saviour's  intercession  in  hea- 
ven, can,  however,  confirm  the  habit,  and  prolong 
the  spirit  of  prayer.  You  may  have  said  to  youi^- 
self,  without  much  effect, 


ible 


"  Cold  mountains  and  the  midnight  air, 
Witness'd  the  fervor  of  His  prayer." 

You  may  only  have  been  afraid  or  ashamed  when 


THE    MARTHAS. 


you  thought  of  him,  as  "nsing  a  great  wliile  be-  |  you  cannot  be  "saved  from  wrath"  but  by  the 
tore  day,  or  as  "  contmuing  all  night  alone,"  in  i  interceding  Life  of  Christ,  as  that  you  cannot  be 
prayer.  \ou  may  only  have  felt  reproved  when  "justified,"  but  by  the  atoning  death  of  Christ, 
you  remembered  how  he  "prayed  more  earnestly,"  |  It  is  because  lie  over  liveth  to  make  intercession, 
^l-i  f  u''l°']^- '"  ^^^^/^^'"^"t  increased.  Thus,  j  that  "he  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost  (or 
whilst  beholding  all  this  m  the  glass  of  the  Sa- 1  completely)  them  that  come  unto  God  by  him  " 
viour  s  history,  your  heart  may  have  only  shrunk  j  Heb.  vii.  25.  Thus,  his  continuing  to  inlercede, 
back  from  the  sight,  alarmed  or  humbled  :  not  |  and  our  continuing  to  come  unto  God  by  him  are 
unwillmgto  pray;  but  unable  to  see  how  such  l  inseparably  connected  whh  the  perfection  or  corn- 
prayer  could  be  imitated,  the  time  of  it  was  so  |  pletion  of  our  salvation. 

long,  and  the  intensity  so  great,  and  the  solitude  This  deserves  special  attention  Some  speak 
BO  awful !     And  his  special  prayers  are  only  ex-    as  if  they  thought,  that  justification  from  the  con- 


amples  for  special  emergencies  :  not  specimais  of 
daily  or  ordinary  devotion.  Accordingly,  such 
long  and  lonely  seasons  of  prayer,  were  not  fre- 
quent even  in  his  close  walk  and  communion  with 
God.     It  was  only  in  Ids  agony,  that  he  kneeled 


demning  sentence  of  the  law  completed,  or  at  least 
made  sure,  their  salvation.  Paul,  however,  speaks 
very  differently  on  this  point.  He  avows  the 
need,  as  well  as  triumphs  m  the  prospect,  of  being 
«  saved  fi-om  wrath,"  through  the  life  of  Christ, 


down  "three  times"  in  one  night.  It  was  only  even  after  having  been  justified  by  the  death  of 
|ust  before  or  after  taking  great  steps  in  his  public  Christ.  Hear  the  apostle  ;  and  shut  your  ears 
mission  and  mmistry,  that  he  spent  ivlwle  nights  to  "the  instruction  which  causeth  to  err  '"  "God 
alone   in  prayer.     The   tenor   of  his   devotional  j  commendeth  his  love  toward  us.  in  that  while  we 


habits,  from  day  to  day,  presented  nothing  to  as- 
tonish or  discourage  his  disciples.  Accordingl}', 
the  evangelists  relate  only  his  extraordinary  sup- 
plications, and  never  intimate  that  there  was  any 
thing  inimitable  or  impracticable  in  his  daily  devo- 
tions. 

These  distinctions  are  too  seldom  drawn,  wlien 
the  Saviour  is  held  up  as  an  example  of  prayer  : 
and  thus  both  the  charm  and  the  check  of  his  ex- 
ample are  sadly  defeated  ;  for  we  see,  although 
we  do  not  like  to  say  it,  that  the  remarkable  spe- 
cimens of  his  devotion  are  impracticable  rules, 
under  ordinary  circumstances.  Accordingly,  they 
are  only  compHmented  or  admired :  that  is  all, — 
except  when  we  can  do  nothing  but  pray. 

You  have  not  less  need  to  contemplate  the 
glory  of  the  Saviour's  intercession  in  heaven,  be- 
cause you  have  now  clearer  ideas  of  his  example 
on  earth.  Indeed,  if  the  latter  commend  itself  to 
your  understanding  and  heart  more  than  you  ex- 
pected it  ever  could  do ;  and  if  you  now  see  more 
in  it  than  you  did  before,  you  may  well  conclude 
tJiat  the  latter  is  worth  studying,  and  likely  to  be 
still  more  useful. 

Do  not  withdraw  your  attention,  nor  doubt  this, 
because  you  remember  all  the  texts  which  prove 
and  illustrate  the  Intercession  of  Christ.  I  have, 
of  course,  nothing  to  tell  you,  but  just  what  they 
contain  :  or  rather,  only  what  I  see  in  them ; 
which  is  far  less  than  their  full  import.  It  will, 
however,  be  their  true  import,  so  far  as  it  goes; 


were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us.  Much  more 
then,  being  now  justified  by  his  blood,  we  shall  be 
saved  f-om  wkath  by  him."  Why?  How]  "For 
if,  when  we  were  enemies,  we  were  reconciled  to 
God  through  the  death  of  liis  Son,  much  more, 
being  reconciled,  we  shall  be  saved  by  his  life:' 
Rom.  v.  8—10.  Thus,  the  "reconciled,"  yea, 
the  "justified,"  need  to  be  "saved  from  wrath," 
by  the  Life  of  Christ,  even  after  his  death  has 
fully  and  for  ever  delivered  them  from  the  curse 
of  the  law.  And  for  an  obvious  reason  :  the  law 
is  not  the  only  thing  we  have  broken  and  violated. 
Our  sins  against  the  gospel,  in  trifling  with  it  so 
long :  and  against  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  grieving  him 
so  much ;  and  against  Providence,  in  improving 
it  so  little;  and  against  the  Saviour  himself,  in 
loving  him  and  glorifying  him  so  partially  :  these 
sins  deserve  "  sorer  punishment  "  than  even  our 
transgressions  against  the  moral  law  !  Accord- 
ingly, Paul  never  represents  the  wrath  of  God  as 
confined  to  sins  against  the  Law.  He  says  expli- 
citly, "  the  wrath  of  God  is  revealed  from  heaven 
against  all  imgodliness  and  unrighteousness  of 
men."  Rom.  i.  18.  And  your  own  experience 
agrees  with,  and  thus  confirms,  the  apostle's  doc- 
trine, on  this  subject.  Your  sins  against  Grace, 
alarmed  and  humbled  you  more  than  your  sins 
against  the  law.  You  may  be  able,  by  setting 
yourself  to  reason  on  general  principles,  to  resolve 
all  your  sins  into  breaches  of  the  Divine  Law,  as 
that  is  the  general  rule  of  the  Divine  government : 


if  an  "unveiled   face"   be    any  security  against |  but  you /ee/,  whenever  your  heart  and 
error  or  fancy.     I  have  bared  my  face  to  ^he  ut-  i  follow  the  convicting  leadings  of  the 


conscience 
spirit,  that 


most,  as  weU  as  bowed  my  knees,  before  « the  past  neglect  of  salvation,  and  present  misimprove- 
l<ather  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  lie  would  m«nt  of  Grace,  are  your  chief  sins.  And  well 
strengthen  me  with  might  by  his  Spirit,  in  the '  you  may  reckon  them  so ! 

inner  man,  and  thus  enable  me  to  comprehend  Now,  although  it  be  true  (and  a  glorious  truth 
something  of  the  breadth  and  length,  the  height  |  it  is)  that  the  "  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth 
and  depth  of  the  love  of  Christ,"  as  the  ever-liv-  |  from  all  sin,"  whether  against  law  or  grace  ;  it  is 
ing,  never- wearymg  Intercessor  before  the  throne! !  not  true  that  you  have  appHed  this  glorious  truth 
1  have  implored  for  this  grace,  not  so  much  in  |  to  yourself  fullv  yet ;  or  as  God  has  revealed  and 
order  that  1  may  be  able  to  write  on  the  subject,  i  intended  it  for  your  encouragement,— if  you  think 
as  that  the  Interceding  Love  of  Christ  may  «  con-  only  of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  when  you  remem- 
strain  me  to  abide  m  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  •  ber  these  words.     In  the  Oracle  of  God,  they 


High." 

Now,  this  is  just  what  you  want ; — to  be  kept 
prayerful  on  earth,  untd  you  are  ready  for  the  harp 
of  praise  in  heaven.     Well ;  it  is  just  as  true,  that 


stand  inseparably  connected  with  the  Intercession 
of  Christ  also,  and  with  our  attention  to  it  as  well 
as  to  his  atonement.  Look  at  this  fact  for  your. 
self.     1  John  i. 


16 


THE    MARTHAS. 


j^^rl^  t&:^^'^P^'=^^^'^'^^ 


cofl'itnunion'  wiU.  God  :  the  very  thing  ^ 
Jrtin-  and  aim  at  in  prayer  ;  for  it 


lo 


m  con-   our 


health,  our  spirits,  our  temporal  affairs,  or 


^^  .„„  „,.,,., .,,  b^^  cw  *«rs!i  :^j^i:z:'^e's::s:n">itz::s^ 


'  God  ;  estate. 


their  lowest  and  worst 


iT^.m  all  wn.     Hence  John  says  expressly 

I.  Ij^hi,  and  ui  Juni  is  no  darkness  at  all.     1. 

Mv  t1iat  we  have  fellowship  with  him.  and  walk 

u.d..kne«.,"  (per..t  >n  known  ^d  aUowed  ^  )  ,      ^^  ^^^^^^  ^^^  ^ 

we  l!a4  fellowship  \  jrlory,  before  you  had  torn  off, from  your_fece,aj._ 


,6   sion,  than  when  they  are  m 
estate. 

It  would  have  been  of  no  permanent  use,  to 
„^  toh^r,  vnii  to  the  2-lass  of  Christ's  mtercedmg 


wr  lie,  and  do  not  the  trutii. 

.l:,4>Nashe.smthel.ght,wenav^..j»^^^^^  ^.^^^  ^^.j^.^j^  ,-.^  ^^^^ 

another,"  (w..h  '^^^'^^  other,)  and  (thus   throv^n^^^^^  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^  your  W  of  his 


,^\..k.^lJr  consit^ti'ntlv  and  prayerfully)  "the         ^ 


trtith  with  the  Intercfssioi),  as  well  as  w 
Atoncii»<'nt  of  Christ,  ii.  1.  Knowing  but  too  well 
from  hw  own  »'Xi>enence,  that  walking  in  the  liffiit 
■  not  perferl,  even  when  \ory  conscientious  upon 
ihe  whole ;  and  llial  bins  do  occur  even  with  the 
devotjunal.  the  apostle  adds,  "If  any  man  sin,  \ye 
b«ve  an  Ai>vo.  ate  with  the  Fatlier  ;  Jesus  Christ 
ihe  nghteou*  ;  and  he  is  the  propitiation  for  our 
fflDj",  and  not  for  ours  only,  but  also  for  the  sins  of 
the  wboie  world."  Thus  John  connects  "  cleans- 
mg  from  all  Bin,"  juFt  as  Paul  connects  "deliver- 
ance from  all  wrath,"  with  the  Life  of  Christ  as 
our  advocate,  a.s  well  as  with  the  death  of  Christ 
u  our  propitiation. 

"Of  the  things  which  we  have  spoken,  This  is 
THE  nvn  ;  we  have  hucIi  an  high  priest,  set  on 
the  rifrhthand  of  the  throne  of  the  majesty  in  the 
hea\en»:"  an  i«rf>rrerft;iij-,  as  well  as  an  atonin<r 
mediator ;  and  our  compfete  salvation  from  all  sin 
and  all  wrath,  depends  upon  applying  to  him  in 
both  capacitien. 

Now  you  are  pomewhat  prepared  to  contem- 
plate the  plory  of  the  Saviour's  intercession :  for 
you  now  (wi^  that  it  is  as  psnenlial  to  your  salvation 
a*  hi«  sacnfice  !  It  is,  in  fact,  the  continued  ap- 
jdir.itjon  of  that  sarrilice  unto  the  soul,  just  as  his 
crucifixion  was  the  one  offering  of  it  to  God. — 
Thu*  he  ever  lives  to  hcsfow,  wliat  he  once  died 
to  obtain.  <  >r,  as  the  old  divines  express  if,  "whilst 
tlio  imprfralioH  of  all  llio  blessings  of  the  cove- 
nant M  by  the  dnath  of  Christ,  the  application  of 
them  is  by  the  life  of  Christ." 

I  havp,  I  frnr,  tried  your  patience,  and  even 
•eomed  tantalizing  your  exppctalions,  by  leading 
jou  thus  round  and  round  "the  golden  altar"  of 
mterreiWKin,  which  is  before  the  throne,  without 
havinjf  once  attempted  to  unveil  its  glories.  I  feel 
th«,  in  common  with  you.  It  is  not,  however,  lost 
time;  for,— (tec  how  much  better  we  understand 
and  anpreci.-it*.  the  work  of  Christ  in  heaven  !— 
The  tdoa  of  his  anpraring  for  us  there,  and  pray- 
ing for  ij«  there,  if  always  pleasing,  is  now  as  mo- 
ni'iiiouii  m  irniKirlance.'aR  it  jr  ploasing  in  fact. 
NN  '■  I'-fl  now,  that  ih-  intercession  of  Christ  is  a 
pr  .Md,.,,,  f„r  more  tlirtn  our  support  and  consola- 
t  -n,  10  iho  .lay  of  trouble  ;  for  more  than  our  es- 
rape,  m  the  hour  of  temptation  ;  for  more  than 
ptinfym^  our  pravers.  by  its  "much  incense."  It 
innUonn.i  efiually  the  provision  of  God,  for  the 
c"f./mMflf,cr„f,„orry  to  pardon  sins  against  grace, 
and  for  the  continuance  of  il„.  Spirit  to  sanctify 
lis,  a«  well  as  to  h.-lp  our  infirmities.  Thus,  wo 
c»ni.ot  regard  it  now.  as  merdy  a  pleasing  fact, 
which  may  b<»  ver>-  usefnl  in  seasons  of  trial  and 
temptai.on.     Jesus  "nrr  lir^th  to  make  inferces- 


The  glory  of  his  Censek,  like  the  glory 


ilh  the   need  of  them  be  deeply  felt.     But  now,  it  is 

easy  for  you  to  behold  it,  as  for  me  to  show  it. 
Indeed,  you  want  no  assistance  from  me,  now  that 
you  stand  "  with  open  face,"  before  the  mirror  of 
revelation.  You  cannot  but  see  in  that  glass,  the 
glory  of  the  Saviour's  condescension,  in  thus  re- 
membering you  for  ever :  the  glory  of  his  sympa- 
thy, in  thus  pitying  you  for  ever :  the  glory  of  his 
patience,  in  thus  bearing  with  you  for  ever :  the 
glory  of  his  love,  in  thus  praying  for  you  for  ever : 
the  glory  of  his  holiness,  in  thus  suing  out  for  you 
and  carrying  on  in  you,  conformity  to  his  own 
image  !  This,  all  this  glory  shines  in  his  interces- 
sion. And,  that  it  is  transforming  glory,  I  appeal 
to  your  own  heart  at  this  moment ;  you  are  not 
unwilling  to  pray  now.  Your  heart  i.s  praying  ! 
You  will  not  shun  the  mercy-seat  to-night,  nor 
hurry  away  from  it. 

Well ;  why  not  look  at  this  glory  of  Christ, 
every  morning  and  evening  1  Consider,  you  must 
think  of  something,  if  you  would  keep  up  the  habit 
of  coming  to  the  throne  of  grace.  You  never  do 
approach  it  without  some  motive  or  reason.  Now 
the  question  is,  what  is  the  best  motive  ?  Happily 
this  is  not  a  matter  of  opinion  or  conjecture.  God 
has  .'settled  and  set  forth  the  grand  influential  mo- 
five  to  regular  prayer  thus  : — "Seeing  then  that 
we  liave  a  great  Higli  Priest,  who  is  passed  into 
the  heavens,  Jesus  the  Son  of  God — let  us,  there- 
fore, come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that 
we  may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in 
time  of  need." — Heb.  iv.  14.  "Having,  there- 
fore, boldness  to  enter  into  the  holiest  by  the  blood 
of  Jesus  ;  and  having  an  High  Priest  over  the 
house  of  God,  let  us  draw  near  with  a  true  heart, 
in  full  assurance  of  faith." — Heb.  x.  19.  The 
intercession  of  the  Lamb  slain  is,  you  see,  the 
chief  magnet  of  the  mercy-seat.  It  is  all  very 
well,  and  even  necessary,  to  remember  from  day 
to  day,  the  duty  of  praying,  and  the  danger  of  not 
praying,  and  the  profit  of  prayer,  and  the  example 
of  the  prayerful.  You  cannot  have  too  many 
links  between  your  heart  and  the  throne  of  grace  ; 
but  still,  the  link  you  need  most,  and  which 
strengthens  all  the  rest,  is,  the  consideration,  that 
the  intercessor  as  much  expects  you  to  bow  regu- 
larly and  reverentially  at  the  throne  of  grace,  as 
you  exjicct  and  need  him  to  stand  on  your  behalf 
before  the  throne  of  glory. 

Your  attention  must  not  be  confined,  however, 
even  to  the  devotional  image  of  the  Saviour.  In- 
deed, that  cannot  be  copied  successfully,  if  the 
soft  and  social  features  of  his  character  are  not 
imitated,  and  its  pervading  spirit  studied. 

Now,  those  who   have   minutely   studied    the 


THE    MARTHAS. 


17 


character  of  the  Saviour,  (as  the  grand  and  lovely 
features  of  it  were  called  forth  during  his  abode  in 
our  world,)  will  find  it  difficult  to  determme  \vhe- 
ther  there  is  most  to  admire,  or  to  imitate  in  it — 
there  is  so  much  of  both.  Many  features  of  his 
character  are,  indeed,  inimitable  in  any  degree. 
We  can  neither  copy  the  authority  of  hi.s  omnipo- 
tence, nor  imbibe  the  spirit  of  his  omniscience  : — 
He  must  stand  alone  on  the  sea  of  Tiberias  calm- 
ing the  tempest,  and  at  the  sepulchre  of  Bethany 
raising  the  dead,  and  thus  tread  all  the  field  of 
miracles,  as  he  trod  tlie  wine-press  of  the  wrath  of 
God;  for,  "of  the  people  there  can  be  none  with 
him."  The  Nathaniels  must  be  content  to  pray 
under  their  fig-trees  undiscovered  by  human  eyes, 
and  many  may  be  devils  at  the  sacramental  table 
without  being  detected  by  the  officiating  minister ; 
for  the  gift  of  "discerning  spirits,"  and  tlie  power 
of  working  miracles,  died  with  the  apostles,  and 
resides  now  only  in  the  person  of  Christ. 

In  the  /litr^r  walks  of  his  hfe,  it  is  therefore 
equally  useless  and  unnecessary  to  propose  the 
example  of  the  Saviour  as  a  model  for  imitation, 
or  as  furnishing  maxims  for  our  conduct  in  life — 
there,  we  can  only  admire  and  adore,  without  the 
least  hope  of  acquiring  any  resemblance  to  his 
miraculous  excellencies.  But  far  different  is  the 
state  of  the  case,  in  regard  to  tlie  virtues  of  his 
character,  and  tlie  spirit  of  liis  miracles  ;  for  our 
ordinary  actions  may  be  done  in  the  temper  of  his 
mignty  works,  and  the  every-day  duties  of  life  and 
godliness  may  be  discharged  in  the  same  disposi- 
tion which  led  him  to  heal  the  sick  and  raise  the 
dead.  If,  therefore,  we  cannot  say  to  our  buried 
Lazaruses,  "Come  forth,"  we  can  cherish  the 
tenderness  which  "wept"  at  the  tomb.  If  we 
cannot  rebuke  fever  in  a  house,  we  can  soothe 
the  family  by  sympathizing  attentions.  If  we  can- 
not turn  water  into  wine,  we  can  be  thankful  for  a 
cup  of  cold  water,  and  administer  it  in  love,  when 
we  have  nothing  better  to  take  or  give  ;  and  thus 
have  the  spirit,  although  not  the  splendor  of  the 
Saviour's  actions,  running  through  and  irradiating 
our  own  doings. 

In  regard  to  our  relative  duties,  nothing  extraor- 
dinary is  expected  from  us.  No  bereaved  mother 
looks  to  us  for  the  restoration  of  her  only  son  from 
the  bier  ;  nor  any  suffering  friend  for  health  ;  all 
that  they  calculate  upon  or  expect  is  cordial  sym- 
pathy and  fervent  prayer ;  so  that  the  spirit  of 
Christ's  miracles  wUl  fully  meet  aU  relative  de- 
sires. 

Now,  what  was  the  spirit  that  distmguished  the 
benevolent  actions  of  the  Saviour  !  Not  ostenta- 
tion— for  he  wished  to  hide  some  of  his  mightiest 
works ;  not  partiaUty — for  his  kindness  was  as 
general  as  it  was  generous  ;  not  caprice — for  he 
was  uniformly  accessible  to  all  ranks,  and,  like  the 
sun,  rose  every  day  of  his  ministry  upon  the  dark 
world,  in  light  and  warmth.  His  temper  could  be 
calculated  upon  to  a  certainty,  at  all  times  and 
imdcr  all  circumstances  ;  and  those  who  had  been 
charmed  by  his  gracious  words  and  gentle  man- 
ners on  the  Mount  of  Olives,  were  sure,  when  they 
left  his  feet,  to  find  on  their  return  the  same  looks 
of  love  on  his  face,  and  the  same  law  of  kindness 
on  his  lips.  So  uniform  was  he  in  his  whole  cha- 
racter while  on  earth,  that  the  apostolic  boast  was 
6«  (14^ 


— "Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday,  to-day  and 
for  ever!" 

Now  the  mQd  and  lovely  character  of  the  Sa- 
viour may  be,  and  ought  to  be,  employed,  both  as 
an  encouragement  to  come  unto  him  for  salvation, 
and  as  an  example  to  be  copied  by  all  who  have 
committed  their  souls  into  his  hands. 

It  is  an  encouragement  to  apply  to  him  for  salva- 
tion. For  it  is  not  by  the  death  of  Christ  only  that 
we  learn  his  willingness  to  save  unto  the  utter- 
most :  that,  indeed,  places  his  good  will  towards 
man  beyond  all  reasonable  doubt,  because  no 
greater  proof  of  it  could  be  given  than  dying  that 
we  might  hve.  Demonstration  can  go  no  farther; 
but  the  same  conclusion  may  be  fairly  drawn  from 
the  uniform  meekness  and  gentleness  of  his  cha- 
racter ;  these  form  the  steady  day-light  of  his  love 
to  man,  as  his  sufferings  and  death  are  that  love 
"  shining  in  the  greatness  of  its  strength."  Indeed, 
he  intended  the  sweetness  of  his  temper,  and  the 
suavity  of  his  manners,  to  illustrate  and  exemplify 
both  the  genius  of  his  gospel,  and  the  loving  kind- 
ness of  God.  Hence  the  explicit  assurance,  "  He 
that  hath  seen  me,  hath  seen  the  Father  also." 
We  are  therefore  warranted  to  apply  unto  God 
and  the  Lamb,  as  ft-eely  as  the  mothers  of  Israel 
brought  their  infants  to  be  blessed — as  freely  as 
the  friends  of  the  sick  brouglit  them  to  be  healed 
— as  freely  as  the  publicans  and  sinners  came  to 
sit  at  Jesus'  feet.  And  if  we  would  not  hesitate, 
were  he  on  earth,  to  present  our  infants  to  him  for 
his  blessing,  we  need  not  hesitate  to  venture  our 
souls  upon  his  atoning  blood.  His  heart  is  as  open 
to  welcome  now,  as  his  arms  were  then. 

"Give  him,  my  soul,  thy  cause  to  plead, 
Nor  doubt  the  Father's  grace." 

But  his  character  is  mtended  also,  and  should 
be  employed,  as  an  example  to  copy.  The  meek- 
ness and  gentleness  of  Christ  are  as  binding  in 
then-  practical  authority,  as  they  are  encouraging 
in  their  benevolent  aspect.  They  are  not,  how- 
ever, so  much  imitated  as  they  are  admired  ;  but 
rather  complimented  than  copied.  Indeed,  there 
are  heavy  complaints  and  charges  current  against 
many  of  the  avowed  followers  of  Christ.  It  is 
thought  and  said,  that  in  the  present  day  they  are 
not  characterised  by  meekness  nor  gentleness. 
They  ought  to  be  like  the  cherubim  upon  the  an- 
cient  mercy-seat ;  of  the  same  metal  and  polish  as 
the  propitiatory  which  they  stand  upon ;  and,  it 
in  general  they  are  not  so,  it  is  imperative  on 
your  sex,  as  well  as  the  pulpit,  both  to  expose  and 
improve  the  wrong  spirit  and  the  wrong  manners 
of  the  age — that  all  who  have  been  "cast  in  the 
mould  of  the  gospel"  may  be  polished,  as  well  as 
moulded.  1  Peter  iii.  1,  6.  Thus,  as  women  were 
the  first  at  the  sepulchre  of  Christ  to  see  him 
alive,  so  they  are  chiefly  charged  to  copy  his  meek 
ness  and  gentleness,  both  for  their  own  sake,  and 
to  win  others. 

Now  (without  joining  issue  with  the  sweeping 
charges  just  referred  to)  it  must  be  acknowledged 
that  some  of  the  avowed  followers  of  Christ  are 
unamiable  both  in  their  spirit  and  deportment. 
Some  of  them  are  consequential,  and  others  ca- 
pricious ;  some  reserved,  and  others  morose ;  some 


18 


THE    MARTHAS 


irritable  and  others  peevish ;  some  rash,  and 
others  captious.  These  things  ought  not  to  be. 
But  stOl,  whilst  we  deplore  and  condemn  them  as 
unchristian,  we  ought  to  bear  in  mind  how  much 
worse  the  persons  chargeable  with  them  must 
have  been  if  they  had  had  no  religion ;  for  if  they 
are  disagreeable  notwithstanding  all  the  restraints 
of  conscience,  they  must  have  been  intolerable 
without  them.  As  a  good  man  once  said  of  his 
wife,  when  a  neighbor  wondered  how  he  could 
bear  her  unhappy  temper,  "I  keep  thinking  how 
much  worse  it  would  be  if  she  had  no  grace." — 
And  the  fact  is,  it  is  with  some  minds  as  with  some 
fields — there  are  thorns  and  briers  in  them  even 
after  much  pains  has  been  taken  to  cultivate  the 
sod ;  and,  altliough  this  cannot  be  too  deeply  la- 
mented, we  must  not  forget  what  the  soil  would 
have  been  without  cultivation. 

It  is  not  intended  by  these  remarks,  to  palliate, 
or  apologise  for  wrong  tempers,  but  simply  to  pre- 
sent the  case  in  all  its  bearings  and  aspects.  It 
ought,  therefore,  to  be  stated  explicitly  that  it  is 
the  difficulty  of  conquering  them,  rather  than  re- 
luctance to  relinquish  them  which  keeps  so  many 
serious  persons  in  bondage  to  bad  tempers.  They 
have  tried  to  overcome  them,  and  failed;  and, 
therefore,  they  are  tempted  to  invent,  or  avail 
themselves  of  excuses  for  what  seems,  in  their 
case,  unconquerable.  But  the  fallacy  of  these  ex- 
cuses is  demonstrable,  and  ought  to  be  demon- 
strated to  all  professed  Christians,  that  they  may 
not  have  recourse  to  them,  either  openly  or  se- 
cretly. 

Some  excuse  their  bad  tempers  upon  the  plea 
that  they  are  constitutional  or  natural.  But,  if 
this  were  a  valid  excuse  for  any  wrong  temper,  it 
would  be  so  for  any  vice,  and  might  be  employed 
to  palliate  lust,  intemperance,  and  revenge;  for 
the  slaves  of  these  vile  passions  find  them  equally 
constitutional, — if  that  could  justify  them.  We 
ought,  therefore,  to  be  exceedingly  cautious  how 
we  sanction  a  maxim  which  may  be  interpreted 
in  behalf  of  ariij  sin ;  for  although  we  may  want  it 
only  to  excuse  a  failing,  others  may  employ  it  to 
excuse  a  gross  fault. 

It  is  certain,  however,  that  some  temperaments 
are  naturally  sweeter  than  others,  and  that  some 
persons,  without  any  effort,  can  be  both  meeker 
and  gentler  than  others  who  make  great  efforts  to 
"rule  their  spirit."  Immense  differences,  in  this 
respect,  are  discernible  in  the  same  family,  and 
show  themselves  in  children,  before  temper  can 
be  an  acquired  iiabit  of  the  mind.  Now  this  ob- 
vious truth  may  be  allowed  to  have  all  the  weight, 
both  as  fact  and  argument,  which  any  one,  who 
has  not  a  selfish  purpose  to  answer,  can  desire ; 
but  what  then  ]  If  the  natural  temper  of  my  mind 
be  irritable,  or  peevish,  or  capricious,  the  gospel 
is  able,  and  intended  to  subdue  it, — demands  its 
subjugation  to  "the  mind  of  Christ ;"  insists  upon 
it  as  an  essential  part  of  Christian  character. — 
Unless,  therefore,  I  watch  and  pray  against  the 
besetting  sin  of  my  spirit,  either  my  professed  al- 
legiance to  Clirist  is  mere  jiretence,  whatever  re- 
liance upon  him  I  may  avow  ;  or  if  it  be  not,  I  am 
preparing  for  myself,  like  Rachel,  some  "ven- 
geance on  my  inventions,"  which  may  be  as  try- 
ing, if  not  so  startling,  as  her  leprosy. 


ALLEGORY.    No.  2. 


RACHEL'S    EXILE. 


From  the  moment  that  the  leprosy  fell  upon  Ra- 
chel like  snow  on  Lebanon,  the  moral  leprosy  of 
her  spirit  began  to  melt  and  pass  away,  like  snow 
from  the  golden  pinnacles  of  the  Temple.  Like 
Miriam,  the  sister  of  Moses,  she  understood  and 
bowed  to  the  rebuke  of  Jehovah  at  once.  Whilst 
Esrom  only  exclaimed  with  Job,  "  Show  me 
wherefore  Thou  contendest  with  me,"  Rachel 
meekly  said,  "I  will  bear  the  indignation  of  the 
Lord,  for  I  have  sinned  against  him.  There  is  no 
need,  Esrom,  that  God  should  speak  from  the 
whirlwind,  in  order  to  explain  this  visitation.  It 
explains  itself  in  a  loud  voice  ;  and  that,  not  from 
the  ^secret place  of  thunder.'  It  is  vengeance  on 
our  inventions!"  Esrom  then  felt  tliat  he  had 
been  the  leader  in  these  inventions  ;  and  thus,  that 
he  was  the  chief  cause,  although  not  the  chief 
victim,  of  the  vengeance.  He,  therefore,  resolved 
at  once  to  brave  all  the  consequences  of  watch- 
ing over  Rachel,  during  her  banishment  into  the 
Beershebean  wilderness.  He  would  have  borne 
her  leprosy  itself,  could  he  have  removed  it  from 
her  to  himself.  He  did  what  he  could.  He 
pitched  her  tent  in  the  wilderness,  with  his  own 
hands,  under  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock,  and  close 
to  a  well  of  living  water.  He  strewed  it  with  the 
myrrh  of  Carmel,  and  the  camphire  of  Engedi.  He 
placed  in  it  the  vessel  with  which  he  had  drawn 
water  from  the  fountain  of  Siloam,  when  he  first 
appeared  before  God  in  Zion.  Skins,  also,  of  the 
wild  goats  of  Bether,  and  of  the  rams  of  Nebai- 
oth,  were  in  it  for  a  couch ;  parched  corn  and 
grapes  for  food.  And  in  its  recess,  under  a  vase 
of  lilies  of  the  valley,  he  placed  her  little  ark  of 
gopher-wood,  in  which  her  ancestral  copy  of  the 
law  was  deposited.  He  had  saved  that  treasure, 
on  the  day  when  the  elders  pronounced  the  house 
of  her  fathers  imclean,  and  whilst  the  people  were 
razing  it  to  the  ground. 

Nothing  gratified  Rachel  so  much,  as  this  at- 
tention. That  ark  contained  the  covenant  of  her 
God,  and  her  own  covenant  with  Esrom  ;  for  the 
deed  of  her  betrothment  lay  beneath  her  penta- 
teuch  and  psalter.  She  did  not  forget  her  ark  on 
the  day  of  her  exile  from  her  father's  house ;  but 
she  was  afraid  to  bring  it  away  under  the  veil  of 
her  leprosy.  She  felt,  as  if  its  sacred  contents 
would  be  less  dishonored  by  perishing  in  the  ruins 
of  her  habitation,  than  by  escaping  in  the  shadow 
of  her  shame.  She  was  even  afraid  to  name  it 
to  Esrom  ;  and  he  was  too  considerate  to  name  it 
to  her.  Rachel  had  never  wept  during  her  cala- 
mity. Her  eyes  burned  hke  coals  of  juniper  in  a 
furnace  of  brass ;  not  like  dew-stars  in  the  firma- 
ment. Esrom  hoped  that  nature,  as  well  as  grace, 
would  find  relief,  by  the  surprise  he  had  prepared 
for  them,  in  the  little  sanctuary  in  the  wilderness. 
He  judged  aright.  She  entered  the  tent  leaning 
upon  his  arm.  Its  coolness  did  not  revive  her, 
nor  its  fragrance  soothe  her :  but  when  her  eye 
fell  upon  her  ark,  her  spirit  melted.  Rachel 
\vept.  Esrom  blessed  the  God  of  his  fathers,  in 
silence.  It  was  a  holy  hour !  Angels  heard  each 
of  them  say  unto  God,  "I  have  gone  astray  hke 
a  lost  sheep ;  seek  thy  servant,  for  I  do  not  forget 


THE    MARTHAS. 


19 


thy  commandments."  The  angel  of  the  cove- 
nant heard  each  of  them  cry,  "Create  in  me  a 
clean  heart,  O  God;  and  renew  a  right  spirit 
within  me.  Wash  me,  and  I  shall  be  whiter  than 
snow." 

It  was  evening:  and  this  was  their  evening  sa- 
crifice. When  it  closed,  Esrom  said,  "  'The  sa- 
crifices of  God  are  a  broken  spirit :  a  broken  and 
a  contrite  heart,  he  will  not  despise,'  whoever  else 
may  do  so."  With  this  salutation,  Esrom  left 
the  tent ;  and,  having  wrapped  himself  in  the  skin 
of  a  young  lion,  which  had  perished  in  the  swell- 
ings of  Jordan,  he  ascended  the  great  rock  above 
the  tent,  to  keep  watch  during  the  night.  He 
watched  "  unto  prayer,"  also.  So  did  Rachel. — 
Neither  slumbered  nor  slept.  Both  prayed  as  in 
the  days  of  old.  Neither  remembered  the  elders, 
except  to  ponder,  how  men  of  oiie  idea  may  have 
much  devotion. 

When  Esrom  entered  the  tent  in  the  morning, 
he  found  Rachel  still  a  leper  ;  but  the  unnatural 
brightness  of  her  eyes  had  been  softened  by  her 
tears,  and  the  dry  and  deathly  coldness  of  her 
liand  was  moderated.  She  had  just  deposited  the 
covenant  in  her  ark,  and  replaced  the  vase  of  lilies 
upon  it, — so  arranged,  that  their  broad  leaves, 
like  wings,  overshadowed  it. 

"  The  emblem  is  but  too  true,  Esrom,"  she 
said :  "  the  leaves  of  the  frailest  of  the  flowers  of 
the  field,  not  the  wings  of  the  Cherubim  have 
overshadowed  my  ark.  I  rather  garlanded  than 
guarded  it;  and,  -'lerefore,  the  glory  departed. — 
Will  that  glory  ever  return]  I  have  read  the  co- 
venant of  promise  this  morning,  with  relish  :  shall 
I  ever  read  it  again  with  hope?  Will  my  present 
penitence  be  as  fading  as  the  lilies  of  the  valley?" 

Esrom  had  not  anticipated  this  application  of 
his  device.  He  had  placed  the  flower  she  loved 
most,  upon  the  ark  she  deemed  lost ;  that  plea- 
sure might  soften  her  surprise,  when  she  found  it 
again.  "I  meant  no  moral,  Rachel,"  he  said, 
"  when  I  set  the  vase  of  lilies  upon  the  lid  of  the 
ark."  But  Sheshbazzar  would  say, — "The  root 
of  them  will  not  die,  when  their  leaves  wither, 
and  their  fragrance  passes  away.  Their  root  is 
still  in  the  valley,  and  will  continue  to  yield  flow- 
ers in  its  season,  whilst  it  continues  in  its  native 
soil.  Let  us  keep  our  spirit  in  the  valley ;  and  we 
shall  not  only  grow  as  the  lily,  but  cast  forth  our 
roots  as  Lebanon."  Rachel  had  never  named 
Sheshbazzar,  from  the  moment  she  v/as  pronounc- 
ed to  be  a  leper.  She  saw  how  his  high  charac- 
ter was  staked  upon  her  integrity ;  and  felt  that 
slie  was  not  likely  to  redeem,  by  her  own  future 
character,  the  pledges  he  had  given  to  the  elders. 
He  often  vouched  for  her  sincerity  to  them ;  and 
now,  they  said,  "  God  had  branded  her  a  hypo- 
crite." And,  what  answer  could  Sheshbazzar 
give  to  this  charge  against  his  judgment?  She 
could  think  of  none — if  she  were  to  be  a  leper  un- 
til the  day  of  her  death :  and  she  had  no  hope  of 
recovering. 

"  We  owe  it,  Esrom.  to  Sheshbazzar,"  said  Ra- 
chel, "  to  see  him  no  more.  He  is  too  deeply  com- 
mitted by  me,  to  reinstate  his  authority  in  the 
synagogue,  without  disowning  me.  I  am  expelled 
from  the  synagogue  already,  and  I  will  not  expose 
him  to  the  painful  necessity  of  confirming  the  sen- 
tence of  the  elders.     It  is  well  that  he  had  not 


'to  cast  me  out !'  He  must  have  done  it,  had  he 
been  at  home :  but,  although  he  would  have  done 
it  gently  as  the  angel  of  the  Lord  drove  out  our 
first  parents  from  Paradise,  I  am  glad,  for  his  sake 
and  my  own,  that  it  is  not  to  do  !  And,  as  he  can 
never  own  me  again,  I  wiU  never  render  it  neces- 
sary for  him  to  disown  me." 

"  It  never  will  be  necessary  to  disown  you,  Ra- 
chel !"  Esrom  replied.  "  Sheshbazzar  wiU  soon 
have  the  pleasure  to  write  your  name  anew, 
amongst  the  daughters  of  the  covenant  in  Beer- 
sheba,  and  even  to  enroll  it  amongst  the  living  in 
Jerusalem  ;  for  already  the  plague  has  ceased  to 
spread  on  you,  and  I  have  caught  no  infection.  It 
is  no  longer  '  a  fretting  leprosy.'  He  who  wound- 
ed you,  has  begun  to  heal  you ;  and,  as  in  the 
case  of  Miriam,  God  will  perfect  that  which  con- 
cerneth  you,  and  restore  to  you  the  timbrel  of  his 
praise,  at  the  tabernacle  of  his  presence.  Be  of 
good  cheer  :  he  is  healing  our  blackslidings,  and 
he  will  blot  out  our  iniquities,  for  his  own  name's 
sake.  I  feel  warranted,  already,  by  his  faithful- 
ness as  the  hearer  of  prayer,  to  provide  the  '  two 
living  birds,  the  cedar  wood,  and  scarlet,  and  hys- 
sop,' for  the  day  of  your  purification  in  the  tem- 
ple." Having  said  this,  Esrom  led  her  to  the 
door  of  the  tent,  and  left  her  for  the  day  without 
fear ;  being  well  aware  that  neither  the  shepherds 
nor  the  hunters  in  the  wilderness,  would  venture 
near  the  tent  of  leprosy.  He  returned  to  Beer- 
sheeba  to  guide  his  affairs  with  discretion ;  and, 
that  his  kinsmen,  and  neighbors,  and  his  men  ser- 
vants and  maid  servants,  might  seo  that  he  had 
not  tempted  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  by  waiting  on 
Rachel.  He  calculated  the  effect  of  appearing  on 
his  farm,  and  in  the  streets,  humbled,  but  unhurt. 
The  bloom  of  health  was  on  his  cheek,  and  the 
sim.ple  majesty  of  the  palm-tree  in  his  form.  He 
was  grave,  but  not  sad ;  perfectly  composed,  but 
perfectly  natural.  No  one  could  suspect  him  of 
acting  a  part.  His  object  was  to  moderate  the 
clamor  of  the  rash,  and  to  enable  tlie  prudent  to 
suspend  their  judgment :  but  he  employed  no  stra- 
tagem. He  left  his  appearance  and  spirit  to  make 
their  own  impression.  And  many  were  silenced, 
and  not  a  few  softened.  Some  indeed  said,  that 
"the  thin  yellow  hair"  (Lev.  13)  of  a  fretting  le- 
prosy would  soon  be  visible  on  his  brow  or  his 
beard.  Others  affirmed  that  the  rose  on  his  cheek, 
was  '  a  whitish  red,"  already.  But  all  wondered 
after  him;  and  some  prayed  for  him,  that  "the 
desire  of  his  eyes"  might  not  be  "taken  away" 
by  the  stroke  of  judgment. 

During  seven  days  Esrom  went  and  returned 
thus,  between  Beershcba,  and  the  tent  in  the 
wilderness;  his  step  stUl  firm,  and  his  counte- 
nance unchanged.  Every  evening  he  reported 
to  Rachel,  the  progress  of  public  opinion  in  Beer- 
sheba  :  and  every  morning  he  gave  directions  to 
his  ploughmen  and  vine-dressers,  to  his  masons 
and  carpenters,  to  his  hewers  of  wood  and  draw- 
ers of  water,  just  as  he  was  wont  to  do  when  he 
began  to  manage  his  farm,  and  to  rebuild  the 
house  of  his  fathers.  All  his  conduct  and  spirit 
indicated  an  humble,  but  lively  hope  of  Rachel's 
recovery.  Thus,  although  he  said  nothing  to  the 
people,  he  compelled  them  to  think  much. 

This  course,  Esrom  pursued  for  Sheshbazzar'fl 
sake  ;  that  no  burst  of  mockery  or  upbraiding 


JL  n.iu     ivi.n.ivAxi/\o. 


might  meet  him,  on  his  return  from  Jerusalem. 
He  had  planned,  also,  to  meet  the  good  old  man 
by  the  way ;  deeming  that  the  sight  of  Rachel 
would  shock  him  less,  than  the  clamors  of  t!ie 
people.  He  intended  also  to  detain  him  a  day 
and  a  night  in  the  wilderness,  that  by  special  and 
united  prayer,  the  eagle  and  the  eaglets  of  Beer- 
sheba  might  fully  renew  their  youth,  before  re- 
suming the  nest  of  their  youth.'  It  was,  there- 
fore, with  joy  unspeakable  he  heard  Sheshbazzar 
say  at  once,  on  seeing  Rachel,  "  There  is  hope  in 
Israel  concerning  this  leprosy  :"  for  any  salutation 
less  cordial  or  prompt,  would  not  have  silenced 
the  clamor  of  the  pilgrims,  nor  revived  her  spirit. 
Her  heart  was  too  "sick"  with  suspense  to  en- 
dure "  hope  deferred."  Had  Sheshbazzar  been 
silent  at  first,  or  but  slow  to  speak,  or  had  he  spo- 
ken with  less  confidence  or  tenderness  than  Es- 
rom,  her  heart  would  have  broke.  He  knew  this  ; 
and  like  Noah,  took  his  weary  and  weak  dove  into 
the  ark  at  once. 

It  had  been  with  great  difficulty,  Esrom  had 
persuaded  her  to  meet  "the  guide  of  her  youth" 
m  the  wilderness.  Even  when  she  consented  to 
go  forth,  she  said,  "Jephthah's  daughter  knew 
not  the  pang,  which  her  sudden  appearance  would 
inflict  upon  her  fatlier.  Her  timbrels  and  dances 
brought  him  •  very  low  :'  but  she  was  the  uncon- 
scious cause  of  his  anguish.  Sheshbazzar  will 
be  equally  shocked  and  what  can  I  say  when  he 
rends  his  clothes,  exclaiming,  '  Alas,  my  daughter, 
thou  hast  brought  me  very  low  ;  thou  art  one  of 
them  that  trouble  me.'  "  "  Nay,"  said  Esrom, 
"  such  lamentation  will  not  rush  to  his  lips  ;  like 
Moses  with  Miriam,  he  will  intercede  for  thee  at 
once,  and  be  the  first  to  welcome  thee  unto  his 
camp  and  counsel  again  ;  for,  like  Moses,  he  is  as 
meek  as  he  is  wise." 

Tiie  case  of  Miriam  was  so  often  quoted  and 
referred  to  by  Esrom,  as  a  parallel  to  her  own 
case,  that  Rachel  could  not  forget  it  altogether. 
Again  and  again  she  proved  to  herself,  that  she 
was  not  a  Miriam,  but  in  her  sin  and  punishment : 
for  she  had  never  been  as  a  sister  to  the  elders 
she  had  spoken  against ;  nor  had  her  timbrel  ever 
led  the  song  of  the  Red  Sea,  when  the  people  ce- 
lebrated the  Exodus.  But  still  the  parallel 
haunted  her.  It  was  a  case  in  point,  so  far  as 
their  sin  and  sentence  were  alike : — and,  miglit 
not  their  pardon  be  alike  too  ]  This  question,  if 
it  did  not  create  hope,  maintained  prayer.  And 
when  Sheshbazzar  identified  her  case  with  Miri- 
am's at  once,  her  prayer,  which  had  only  risen 
upon  the  one  wing  of  submissive  desire,  rose  on 
the  twin  wings  of  meek  solicitude  and  humble 
hope.  "  Shesiibazzar  as  well  as  Esrom,"  she  said 
to  herself,  "  takes  the  same  view  of  my  case." 
Whilst  Rachel  was  rofiecting  thus,  Sheshbazzar 
dismissed  the  pilgrims  of  Beersheba.  "  I  tarry 
in  the  wilderness,"  he  said,  "to  lead  on  this  lamb 
of  the  flock  as  she  can  bear :  return  ye  to  the 
fold  in  peace  ;  and  sc'c  that  ye  limit  not  the  Holy 
One  of  Israel  by  interpreting  her  calamity,  as 
Eliphaz,  Bildad,  and  Zophar  did  the  trials  of  Job. 
Leave  it  to  them,  to  mistake  providence  ;  and  to 
Satan  to  impugn  motives.  Lot  us  who  are  aged, 
especially,  judge  ourselves,  that  we  may  not  be 
judged  :  for  if  these  things  be  done  in  t!ie  green 
trfe,.,>v]i^af;,^hg.ll  Ue^dp^.^nia^the  dry  tt:ee».if  it  ber, 


I  come  fruitless  ?"  The  pilgrims  departed  in  si- 
1  lence  ;  but  not  in  sympathy  with  their  leader,  or 
i  with  his  lamb.  They  were  afraid  to  speak  ;  but 
I  they  were  not  afraid  to  suspect  the  prudence  of 
;  Sheshbazzar,  or  the  sincerity  of  Rachel.  He  un- 
j  derstood  their  looks  ;  but  said  nothing  more.  He 
j  turned  from  them;  and,  "leaning  on  the  top  of 
his  staff,  worshipped,"  until  they  were  out  of  sight. 
Whilst  thus  musing,  the  fire  burned :  then,  spake 
he  with  his  tongue.  "  I  am  too  much  humbled 
by  the  leprosy  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh,  to  be 
shocked  or  surprised  at  bodily  leprosy.  Not  that 
I  think  lightly  of  it.  It  is  the  strangest  of  all 
God's  '  strange  works  ;'  his  rod  of  rods,  and  cup 
of  trembling,  when  he  visits  our  sins  with  stripes, 
and  our  iniquities  with  chastisements  ;  but  lo,  all 
these  things  worketh  God,  (and  many  such  things 
are  with  him,)  that  "  he  may  save  souls  alive." 
Some  souls  can  only  be  saved  from  unhallowed 
curiosity  and  vain  imaginations,  by  startling  judg- 
ments which,  like  the  sword  of  the  Destroying 
Angel,  so  weaken  their  hearts  in  "  one  night," 
that  they  dare  not  turn  again  to  foUy  :  and  others 
require  a  flaming  sword  perpetually  before  their 
eyes,  or  a  clearing  cross  upon  tlieir  shoulder,  in 
order  to  keep  them  from  folly  ;  because,  hke  Eve, 
they  are  least  suspicious  of  themselves  when  most 
happy,  and  like  Lucifer,  most  aspiring  when 
brightest.  The  Son  of  the  Morning  speculated 
in  heaven,  and  the  Daughter  of  the  Morning,  in 
paradise  ;  and  both  fell. 

"  Rachel,  thou  hast  fallen  too :  but  not  like  Lu- 
cifer, to  rise  no  more  ;  but  like  Eve,  to  be  raised 
up  again.  I  meet  thee  in  the  wilderness  ;  but 
not  hke  Cain,  fleeing  from  the  presence  of  Jeho- 
vah ;  but  like  Abel,  worshipping  before  the 
Slieckinah.  God  will  not  despise  the  sacrifice  of 
a  broken  spirit,  in  the  desert ;  and  he  will  accept 
thy  burnt  offering,  in  the  sanctuary.  Mercy  will 
yet  rejoice  over  judgment,  and  over  thee,  with 
singing." 

"  Sheshbazzar,  I  was  the  tempter,"  said  Esrom ; 
"  and  first  in  tiie  transgression.  But  for  me, — 
Rachel  had  not  fallen."  "  And,  but  for  you  Ra- 
chel had  not  been  restored,"  said  Sheshbazzar. 
It  was  "a  dark  saying  :"  neither  Esrom  nor  Ra- 
chel understood  it  ;  but  neither  could  forget  it. 
"  Is  there  any  thing  before  me,"  said  Esrom, 
"  which,  without  her,  I  could  not  go  through.'" 
"Does  this  leprosy  bear  upon  my  betrothed,  as 
well  as  upon  myself?"  said  Rachel.  "I  will  e.\- 
plain  in  the  tent,"  said  the  old  man. 


No.  HI. 

VARIETIES,    FROM    MISTAKES. 

Whatever  may  be  the  faults  or  the  defects  of 
our  character  and  spirit,  there  is  not  one  of  them 
so  peculiar,  but  that  some  ancient  proverb  might 
be  found  to  reprove  it,  or  some  e.vperimental 
ma.xim  to  condenm  it.  Indeed,  if  either  exposures 
or  reproofs  could  cure  faults,  the  conscientious 
would  soon  be  faultless  :  for,  what  sin,  of  heart 
or  life,  has  not  been  found  and  declared,  by  many, 
to  be  "  an  evil  and  a  bitter  thing  1"  Experience, 
as,  ,\veU  as  Revelation,  has  planted  a  "  flaming 


THE    MARTHAS, 


21 


sword"  upon  the  gate  of  all  wrong  habits  and 
tempers ;  and,  although  the  sword  of  the  former 
does  not,  like  that  of  tue  latter,  "  turn  every  way," 
nor  turn  at  all  in  the  hands  of  "Cherubim,"  it 
turns  and  flames  too,  enough  to  render  us  without 
excuse  when  we  yield  to  temptation.  For,  who, 
of  all  the  hosts  of  the  peevish,  the  impatient,  the 
irritable,  or  the  rash,  ever  left  a  dying  testimony 
in  favor  of  their  besetting  sin  ?  Many  a  tomb- 
stone in  the  church-yards  of  our  cities  and  vil- 
lages, records  the  domestic  happiness  and  the  pub- 
lic esteem,  which  the  virtues  and  graces  of  Chris- 
tian character  gained  for  their  possessors;  but 
not  one  tells  of  a  vice  that  did  no  harm,  nor  of  an 
imperfection  that  did  any  good.  Gravestones 
often  flatter  the  dead  ;  but  they  never  say  that  a 
passionate  or  peevish  woman  was  happy,  in  heart 
or  at  home,  notwithstanding  her  ill  temper.  They 
never  ascribe  conjugal  love  nor  maternal  influ- 
ence, to  fashionable  follies,  or  to  frivolous  accom- 
plishments.  Neither  the  toilette  nor  the  piano, 
the  pencil  nor  the  harp,  is  ever  engraven  on  the 
Urn,  as  the  explanatory  emblem  of  the  character 
of  the  deceased  ;  except,  indeed,  she  has  been  an 
actress  ! 

But  not  only  do  proverbs  and  experience  con- 
demn our  faults  :  we  ourselves  condemn  the  same 
faults  in  others,  whenever  they  aflect  our  own 
interest  or  convenience.  Then  we  are  quite  sure, 
that  one  might  be  more  courteous,  and  another 
more  reasonable,  and  a  third  more  amiable,  and  a 
fourth  far  less  talkative,  if  they  would  only  try  ! 
Thus  we  see  no  difficuky  to  prevent  them  from 
being  to  us,  all  they  ought  to  be  ;  and  no  excuse 
for  them,  when  they  otfend  us.  "Is  it  not  very 
easy  to  be  polite  to  one  ?  What  good  do  they  get 
to  themselves,  from  their  high  airs,  or  from  their 
snappish  humors,  or  from  their  capricious  conduct? 
I  have  no  patience  with  such  insolence,  nor  with 
such  impertinencies." 

There  it  is  !  We  can  chafe  ourselves  into  a 
bad  spirit,  by  chiding,  even  in  thought,  the  faults 
and  follies  of  otiiers.  Let  them  only  interfere 
with  our  comfort,  or  be  somewhat  more  and  greater 
than  our  own,  and  we  can  be  lawgivers  and 
judges  against  both. 

Even  this  is  not  the  weakest  nor  the  worst  side 
of  our  hearts,  in  regard  to  our  faults.  We  can 
condemn  them  in  ourselves,  and  yet  continue 
them.  We  can  lament  them,  and  yet  allow  them 
to  go  on.  We  can  even  give  up  excusing  them, 
and  yet  expect  others  to  forgive  and  forget  them  : 
or  rather  to  overlook  them  entirely ;  for  we  do 
not  like  the  idea  of  he'mg  forgii-en  by  any  one  but 
God. 

Would  that  this  were  all !  But  it  is  not.  We 
are  quite  capable,  even  after  having  found  our 
besetting  sin  of  habit  or  temper,  a  hinderance  to 
prayer,  and  a  dead  weight  on  hope,  to  give  way 
to  it  still.  Who  has  not  resolved,  at  a  sacrament 
it  embittered,  or  under  a  chastisement  it  had  pro- 
voked, or  at  the  breaking  up  of  a  backsliding  it 
had  brought  on,  that  it  should  be  cut  off  and  cast 
away?  But  the  casting  away,  has  not  followed 
the  cutting  off.  The  hand  has  held  it,  after  the 
heart  condemned  it.  It  has  got  back  to  its  old 
place  again,  either  by  some  ligament  which  was 
left  uncut,  or  under  the  promise  that  it  would  no 
bnn-cr  betrav  us.  ...n->;i  hf.,,-   i,{.     , . 


j  Why  is  it,  that  neither  the  experience  of  ages, 
j  even  when  its  warnings  become  proverbs  ;  nor 
I  our  own  experience,  even  when  it  is  bitter,  has 
\  power  enough  to  correct  what  they  thus  condemn  ? 
I  Why  are  we  so  slow  to  do  and  become,  all  that 
I  we  feel  we  ought  to  do  and  be  ?  This  is  not  ex- 
plained by  saying,  that  nothing  but  the  sanctifying 
I  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit  can  subdue  our  faults. 
j  That  is  very  true  :  but  it  was  equally  true  years 
!  ago  ;  and  yet,  in  some  things,  we  are  as  faulty  as 
I  ever.  Thus  the  Spirit  does  not  touch  tliera,  when 
we  let  them  alone :  except,  indeed,  when  he  strikes 
at  them  by  the  sharp  rods  of  providence,  or  frowns 
upon  them  by  dark  clouds  of  desertion ;  and 
neither  of  these  modes  of  communicating  sancti- 
fying grace  is  "joyous,  but  grievous,"  however  it 
may  yield  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness 
afterwards. 

It  is  very  easy  to  talk  fine  things  about  sancti- 
fying grace  :  but  the  sober  truth  is,  that  that  grace 
is  just  Divine  power  giving  effect  to  the  gospel  it- 
self^ or  to  providence  along  with  the  gospel,  or  to 
eternal  things  along  witli  both.  The  Spirit  works 
by  them  all  in  turn,  and  by  them  all  together  ;  but 
never  without  any  of  them.  He  may  begin  sanc- 
tification  by  affliction,  whilst  the  gospel  is  not 
much  known  :  or  he  may  begin  it  by  the  gospel, 
whilst  affliction  is  quite  unknown  :  but  he  will  not 
carry  it  on  long  in  either  way.  He  will  lead  out 
the  afflicted  to  the  Cross  of  Christ  more  fully  ;  or 
he  will  lay  some  cross  upon  the  believing,  when 
their  faith  itself  becomes  less  purifying.  This  is  the 
general  rule  of  both  the  work  and  the  witness  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  Whilst  his  right  hand  is  for  ever 
glorifying  Christ  by  the  gospel,  his  left  is  often 
doing  the  same  by  the  furnace.  He  thus  sancti- 
fies by  the  truth,  and  by  providence. 

There  is,  however,  a  way  of  carrying  on  sar.c- 
tification,  without  much  affliction.  There  is  a 
"needs  be  "  for  some,  in  the  case  of  all  Christians ; 
and,  accordingly,  all  are  chastised  more  or  less. 
"  For,  what  son  is  he"  (or  what  daughter  is  she) 
"whom  the  Father  chasteneth  not?"  Still,  as 
the  whole  and  sole  object  of  chastisement  is,  the 
taking  away  of  sin,  or  the  promotion  of  holine.-s ; 
that  object  may  be  secured  in  some  degree  by 
other  means.  Indeed,  God  prefers  other  means 
to  tlie  rod,  when  they  answer  the  purpose.  Judg- 
ment is  always  his  "  strange  work,"  even  in  sanc- 
tification.  I  mean,  he  does  not  "  afflict  willingly." 
Let  any  sin  be  really  given  up,  or  any  neglected 
duty  taken  up,  on  the  ground  of  any  holy  motive 
whatever,  and  he  can  dispense  with  the  rod.  Yea, 
he  will  be  delighted  to  have,  thus,  no  occasion  to  use 
it.  Well;  thecontemplation  of"  ETERNAL  things" 
can  supersede  the  necessity  of  temporal  affliction, 
and  especially  of  spiritual  calamity,  in  many  cases. 
Did  you  ever  observe  this  fact  in  your  Bible  ? 
If  not,  you  have  a  new  and  a  noble  lesson  to  learn. 
I  say  "noble,"  because  if  the  sight  of  the  words 
ETERNAL  THINGS,  suggcst  to  your  mind  only  dis- 
mal, or  dark,  or  even  awful  ideas,  you  have  yet  to 
study  the  subject.  All  eternal  things  are,  indeed, 
I  solemn  :  so  are  all  the  perfections  of  God;  so  are 
I  all  the  glories  of  the  Lamb :  so  are  all  the  sweet 
j  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit :  but  their  solemnity 
does  not  detract  from  their  sweetness.  It  height- 
ens  their  beauty  by  hallowing  it.  And  had  you 
I  contemplated  eternity,  as  you  have  the  Divine 


22 


THE    MARTHAS. 


character,  "  in  the  fece  of  Jesus,"  the  light  of  its 
Hon-,  instead  of  intimidatin<T  you,  would  have 
charmed  or  soothed  you.  Eternal  things  present 
no  dark  side,  to  a  woman  who  loves  holmess,  and 
desires  to  feel  their  sanctifying  influence  upon 
herself.  She  is  as  welcome  to  look  upon  them 
without  fear,  as  to  look  unto  Jesus  witii  hope. 
Her  hope  may  be  as  full  of  immortality,  as  it  is 
full  of  Christ. 

Do  vou  doubt  this  at  all  ?  Just  observe,  for  a 
momeiif,  how  John  proves  it,  when  he  directs  our 
attention  to  tlie  second  coming  of  Christ.  That 
glorious  appearing  of  the  great  God,  our  Saviour, 
has  nothing  appalling,  in  John's  account  of  it.  He 
IS  referring  to  it  for  sanctifying  purposes  ;  and 
therefore  all  he  says  is  soft  and  simple.  "  Belov- 
ed, we  know  that  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall 
be  like  him ;  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is."  Thus, 
nothing  but  likeness  to  Christ  is  presented  to  our 
view,  when  John  points  to  the  grand  assize  of  the 
univerec.  Why .'  Because  the  apostle  wanted  to 
commend  tlie  holi/  influence  of  a  hope  full  of  im- 
mnrtality.  Hence  he  adds  immediately,  "Every 
man  who  hath  this  hope  in  Christ  (the  hope  of 
being  perfectly  and  eternally  like  him)  purifieth 
himpeif  even  as  he  is  pure."  1  John  iii.  2,  3. 
Thus,  you  learn,  that  a  purifying  hope  cannot  go 
too  calmly  forth,  nor  too  far  out,  amongst  the  so- 
li^mnities  of  the  last  day.  We  may  look  forward 
t'j  it  with  as  much  composure  as  angels,  and  with 
iimre  expectation  than  angels  :  for  it  will  be  no 
new  era  in  their  holiness  ;  whereas  it  will  be  both 
the  fulness  of  time  and  tlie  fulness  of  eternity,  in 
our  moral  history.  We  shall  be  like  Christ,  when 
we  "  Bee  liim  as  lie  is  1" 

Now,  it  is  "this  hope"  which  can,  when  fully 
embraced  and  cherished,  set  aside  the  necessity 
«i  some  aftliciiuns,  by  setting  us  to  purify  our- 
M>lvfs  after  tiie  model  of  the  Saviour's  pureness. 
What  this  hopo  does  in  sanctifying  our  character 
.^nd  Ppirit,  neither  the  furnace  nor  the  rod  will  be 
i-mployed  to  do.  The  Holy  Spirit  will  work  with- 
out rhc  fire  of  Providence,  in  changing  us  into  the 
I'nagc  of  Clirisf,  just  in  proportion  as  wo  look  with 
iMMi  fjco  to  the  Glory  of  Christ,  for  the  e.vpross 
pur[)ose  of  imitating  'him.  Yes  ;  let  his  glory 
ilianire  us  "  from  glory  to  glory,"  or  from  one 
l-avenly  virtue  on  to  another  ;  and  whatever  coii- 
I'lrmity  to  the  divine  image  we  gain  by  this  puri- 
ttng  process  of  holy  contemplation  will  lessen  the 
i.iTCHHity  for  severe  purifying  discipline. 

How  do  you  like  this  plan  of  following  holiness, 
liy  looking  to  the  character  and  coming  of  Christ, 
■  *  you  t'o  forward  on  your  pilffrimage  ?  Will  you 
.'licr  take  your  chance  of  being  jturitled  by  "the 
:rnar.?  and  the  rod,  than  take  iho  trouble  of  puri- 
ivin?  yoiir-*flf  by  a  studied  imitation  of  the  Sa- 
••  ioiir '  Will  you  rather  leave  vour  "  dross"  to  be 
[.iirg.-d  l,y  ihf  refining  fire  o'f  providence,  than 
plaro  ,t  tluiH.  from  day  to  dav,  under  the  beat  of 
the  Sun  ,.i  Righteousness,  and  beneath  the  liHit  of 
a  hope  full  of  immortality? 

True  ;  if  m  not  easy  to  maintain  such  a  good 
l.oiK.  r, en  through  prace  !  That  is  not,  however, 
a  valid  excuse  for  not  forming  this  habit  of"  look- 
ing untoJcBHH,  for  sanctification.  For,  we  do 
InjH,,  to  be  with  him  and  l.kn  him,  at  his  cominjr. 

1  V^r^M^  ^'' wif'  ";!'  ^"P*^  'iltogether,  for  any 
1'  njrth  of  lime.   We  often  forget  it,  but  we  cannot 


I  fore<TO  it  entirely.  Our  hearts  would  break,  or 
!  our  reason  fail,  if  we  had  no  hope  of  salvation.  It, 
is,  therefore,  a  mere  waste  of  time,  if  not  some- 
thill"-  worse,  to  keep  harping  about  the  difficulty 
of  hoping  :  for,  however  diiUcult  or  easy  it  may  be, 
you  dn  hope  to  reach  heaven  at  last.  You  could 
not  help  doing  so,  if  you  were  to  try.  I  am  quite 
aware  that  you  have  said  at  times,  "  There  is  no 
hope."  Sometimes  you  have  seen  none  :  but  even 
then  you  were  lookmg  for  some  ;  and  thus  hoping 
to  find  this  hope  of  eternal  life  again. 

But,  a  truce — to  this  reasoning.  I  must  re- 
monstrate.  You  have  not  given  up  all  hope  of 
heaven.  You  need  not,  you  ought  not :  will  you 
then  keep  hold  of  it,  and  yet  take  no  such  hold  as 
shall  have  a  holy  influence  upon  you?  True; 
you  have  added  to  your  faith  virtue  :  but  will  you 
add  nothing  more  7  Is  o?2e  mark  of  grace  enough 
to  set  all  your  fears  at  rest  ]  Can  you  be  satis- 
fied with  just  keeping  up  the  degree  of  piety  you 
began  with  ?     What !— is  that  less  than   at  fir.st  ■? 

I  am  not  upbraiding  you.  I  know  but  too  well, 
the  treacherous  tendencies  of  the  heart ;  and  how- 
much  the  world,  both  by  its  snares  and  cares,  can 
work  upon  these  tendencies.  My  object  is,  there- 
fore, to  bring  "  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come," 
to  bear  more  directly,  and  habitually,  and  sweetly, 
upon  your  hopes,  and  habits,  and  spirit.  Again, 
therefore,  I  say,  you  quite  mistake,  if  you  still  ima- 
gine that  you  could  not  keep  Eternity  in  sight, 
without  sadness  or  dread.  Indeed,  you  have 
never  fairly  looked  at  it,  as  Jesus  has  illuminated 
it  by  the  gospel,  if  you  even  suspect  it  could  em- 
bitter or  embarrass  any  life,  which  you  can  live 
with  safety  to  your  soul.  The  life  which  the 
prospect  of  eternal  life  can  darken,  is  no  safe  life, 
whatever  else  it  may  be.  I  refer,  however,  to 
the  prospect  of  eternal  life,  as  the  gospel  presents 
it  to  those  who  love  the  Saviour ;  and  not  to  the 
form  of  gloom  and  terror,  in  which  some  of  them 
view  it.  To  many,  the  judgment-seat  and  eter- 
nity, are  only  objects  of  awful  hazard  and  intimi- 
dation ;  furnishing  nothing  but  checks  now,  and 
"  peradventures"  hereafter.  Were  this  true,  I 
should  be  as  much  afraid  as  any  one,  to  look  at 
the  things  which  are  unseen  and  eternal. 

But  just  observe  how  Peter  presents  them  to 
the  followers  of  Christ.  He  does  not  hide  nor 
soften  the  terrors  of  the  last  day :  but  still,  he 
liiinself  moves  amidst  the  conflagration  of  the 
universe,  with  something  of  the  calm  majesty  in 
which  the  eternal  Spirit  moved  upon  the  face  of 
the  dark  waters  of  chaos  ;  and  even  leads  the 
church  along  with  him  singing,  as  sweetly,  amidst 
melting  elements  and  burning  worlds,  "  We  look 
for  new  heavens  and  a  new  earth,"  as  the  angelic 
morning  stars  sang  in  the  train  of  the  Spirit  at  the 
creation. 

Thus  Peter  describes  "  the  day  of  God."  2  Pet. 
iii.  10.  "The  heavens  being  on  fire,  shall  be  dis- 
solved, and  pass  away  with  a  great  noise  ;  the 
elements  shall  melt  with  fervent  heat ;  the  earth 
also  and  the  works  that  are  therein  shall  be  burnt 
up."  And  can  this  be  seen  or  anticipated  with- 
out consternation  and  alarm  ?  Can  any  heart  be 
strong  or  composed  during  this  catastrophe  ?  Yes ; 
by  the  "nevertheless"  of  the  divine  promise, 
we  may  not  only  look,  but  also  "  hasten,"  in  both 
thought  and  hope,  "  unto  the  coming  of  the  day 


THE    MARTHAS. 


aa 


of  God  :"  for  we  are  warranted  to  look  for  "  new 
heavens  and  a  new  earth,  wlierein  dwelleth  righte- 
ousness." Neither  the  suddenness  nor  the  so- 
lemnity of  the  end  of  all  things,  shall  overwhelm 
the  spirits,  or  shake  the  hopes,  of  the  dead  in 
Christ,  when  they  awake  at  the  trtimp  of  the  arch- 
angel, amid  the  flaming  torches,  which,  having  il- 
luminated the  judgment-seat  until  the  opened 
books  are  closed  again,  shall  set  on  fire  the  whole 
course  of  nature.  Even  then,  and  "never-//ieZess" 
(not  at  all  the  less  on  account  of  "  such  things,") 
shall  the  saints  be  able  to  possess  their  souls 
in  peace,  and  fitted  to  admire  and  glorify  their 
Saviour.  "  He  shall  be  glorified  in  his  saints,  and 
admired  of  them  that  love  him,"  says  Paul,  "even 
when  he  comes  with  flaming  fire,  taking  ven- 
geance on  them  that  obey  not  the  gospel."  2 
Thess.  i.  10. 

Now,  mark :  it  is  in  connection  with  this  "  hope 
of  their  calling,"  that  Paul  prays  for  the  Thessa- 
lonians  that  God  would  "  count  them  worthy  of 
this  calling,"  by  fulfilling  in  them  the  good  plea- 
sure of  his  will,  and  the  work  of  faith  with  power; 
that  thus  "  Christ  might  be  glorified  in  them"  now 
as  well  as  at  his  coming.  In  like  manner,  it  is  in 
connection  with  the  sublime  and  soothing  prospect 
of  lifting  up  their  heads  with  perfect  composure 
amidst 

"  The  wreck  of  matter,  and  the  crash  of  worlds." 

that  Peter  urges  upon  all  who  "look  for  such 
things,"  to  be  "  diligent,"  that  they  may  be  found 
by  Christ,  on  that  day,  in  peace,  without  spot  and 
blameless." 

You  see  now  how  much  faith  the  apostles  had 
in  the  sanctifying  power  of  eternal  things.  Tliey 
commend,  as  well  as  enforce,  the  habit  of  looking 
at  them  as  inspiring  and  constraining  motives  to 
holiness.  How,  then,  can  you  be  "  holy  in  all 
manner  of  conversation  and  godliness,"  if  you  ne- 
glect or  dread  to  look  at  "  such  things  V 

Meet  this  question  fairly.  You  must  look  at 
something,  in  order  to  be  able  or  willing  to  follow 
holiness.  You  have  looked  with  some  advantage, 
to  not  a  few  things  already.  You  have  looked  to 
the  law ;  and  said,  "  What  manner  of  person 
ought  I  to  be  in  all  holy  conversation  and  godli- 
ness:" and  this  consideration  has  done  you  good. 
You  have  looked  at  the  gospel ;  and  said,  "  My 
life  and  conversation  should  be  becoming  the  gos- 
pel of  Christ,  and  adorn  its  doctrines :"  and  this 
has  done  you  still  more  good.  You  have  looked  at 
the  great  Cloud  of  Witnesses,  who  through  faith 
and  patience  now  inherit  the  promises  ;  and  said, 
"  I  must  try  to  follow  them  as  far  as  they  followed 
Christ:"  and  this  remembrance  of  the  dead  in 
Christ,  has  helped  you  on  in  the  narrow  way  which 
leadeth  to  everlasting  life.  But  still,  all  these 
things,  holy  as  they  are  in  their  influence,  and 
useful  as  you  have  found  them,  have  not  made 
you  so  like  Christ  as  you  ivish.  to  be,  nor  even  as 
you  need  to  be,  in  order  to  "  make  your  calling  and 
election  sure."  No ;  you  yourself  are  not  quite 
sure  that  you  shall  be  "found  of  him  in  peace  at 
his  coming,"  even  when  your  hopes  are  brightest. 
"  The  full  assurance  of  hope"  is  a  plant  of  slow 
growth,  and  of  great  tenderness.  Indeed,  it  never 
arrives  at  any  thing  lilce  maturity,  nor  becomes  an 


evergreen  in  any  heart,  until  the  things  which  are 
unseen  and  eternal  are  "hoped  for."  Heb.  ii.  1. 
Now  this  they  cannot  be,  unless  they  are  looked  at 
by  faith:  but  just  taking  them  for  granted,  or  not 
forgetting  them  entirely,  is  not  lookuig  at  them  by 
faith.  "Faith  is  the  substance  (or  gives  subsist- 
ence in  the  mind)  to  the  things  hoped  for."  Ac- 
cordingly, it  was  to  believers  as  "  looking  for  such 
things"  as  acquittals  and  crowns  and  glory,  on  the 
last  day,  that  Peter  said,  "  Seeing  ye  look  for  such 
things,  be  diligent,  that  ye  may  be  found  of  him  in 
peace,  without  spot,  and  blameless."  It  was  to 
Christians,  as  anticipating  and  reahzing  the  end  oi 
all  earthly  things,  that  he  made  the  solemn  appeal 
— "  What  manner  of  persons  ought  ye  to  be  in  all 
holy  conversation  and  godliness  !"  And  observe, 
in  order  to  help  them  to  answer  this  question,  he 
urges  them  to  continue  "  looking  for,  hastening 
(iii  thought  and  hope)  unto  the  day  of  the  Lord." 
Thus  Peter  did  not  think  that  they  could  answer 
his  question  well,  witliout  a  growing  h.'ibit  of  con- 
sidering the  end  of  time  and  the  full  apocalypse  ol 
eternity  ;  a  plain  proof,  by  the  way,  that  he  had 
no  fear  of  saddening  or  unsecularizing  his  con- 
verts by  keeping  the  light  of  eternity  around  them. 

Well ;  you  have  said  to  yourself,  whilst  looking 
at  the  Cross,  and  to  the  mercy-seat,  and  to  the 
sacrament,  and  to  the  moral  law  as  the  rule  of 
hfe, — "  What  manner  of  person  ought  I  to  be  in 
all  holy  conversation  and  godliness?"  And  all 
these  "great  sights"  of  privilege  and  duty,  have 
"greatly  helped"  you  to  bring  forth  some  of  the 
first  fruits  of  holiness  unto  the  glory  of  God  through 
Jesus  Christ.  And  you  will  never  "  bring  forth 
more  fruit,"  if  you  look  away  from  these  motives, 
or  allow  yourself  to  be  drawn  away  by  any  thing 
that  would  displace  them.  Should  you  ever  with- 
draw your  eye  from  the  cross  or  the  mercy-seat,  to 
fix  it  upon  visions  or  novelties  in  religion,  there 
will  soon  be  an  end  to  your  present  hope  and  holi- 
ness. You  may  even  become  such  "  manner  of 
persons,"  as  those  who  listen  to  "tongues," 
which  teach  no  knowledge,  or  to  interpreters  of 
prophecy,  who  do  nothing  to  fulfil  the  prophecies, 
which  foretell  the  spread  of  the  gospel.  "  But  I 
hope  better  things  of  you  ;  even  the  things  which 
accompany  salvation,  though  I  thus  speak." 

Will  you,  then,  in  order  to  increase  your  Jiopcs 
and  holiness,  try  the  experiment  of  looking  dis- 
tinctly at  the  solemn  realities  of  eternity  ;  plying 
your  heart  and  conscience  with  the  solemn  ques- 
tion, "  What  manner  of  person  ought  I  to  be,  hi 
all  holy  conversation  and  godhness  ?"  Will  yo.u 
put  it  to  yourself,  just  as  God  puts  it  to  you !  It  is 
not,  you  see,  a  bare  or  abstract  question  in  morals. 
It  embraces  universal  holiness  of  heart  and  life, 
and  comes  before  you  enshrined  with  the  two-fold 
splendors  of  burning  worlds  and  a  bright  eternity. 
Win  you  meet  it,  as  you  wish  to  meet  the  grand 
and  awful  consummation  it  is  founded  upon?  Do 
you  hesitate "? 

Why  not  look  at  such  things  now,  since  you 
must  see  them  at  last?  "Every  eye  shall  see" 
the  descending  Judge,  and  the  dissolving  universe. 
You  must  see  them,  "  for  yourself  and  not  for  an- 
other." And  if  you  cannot  bear  to  think  of  them, 
how  will  ye  bear  to  see  them — to  hear  them — to 
feel  them,  when  neither  rocks  nor  niountams,  ij 
they  could  fall  upon  you,  would  be  able  to  hide 


THE    MARTHAS. 


from  you  the  scenes  of  that  day?  But,  perhaps, 
you  arc  alraid  to  hope  so  freely,  as  I  commend,  or 
as  vou  wish  ?  Why  ! 

"The  hope  set  before  us" in  the  gospel,  like  the 
Sheckinah  of  the  divine  presence  which  went  be- 
fore the  churcli  in  the  wilderness,  is  "  a  pillar  of 
cloud  by  day,  and  a  pillar  of  fire  by  night;" 
neither  so  dim  as  to  be  indistinct,  nor  so  bright  as 
to  be  dazzling  to  the  eye.  It  if,  indeed,  as  full  of 
immortality  as  the  sun' is  full  of  light ;  but  as  the 
sun  shines  through  an  atmosphere  which  softens 
his  rays,  and  occasionally  shades  them  too,  so  the 
Jiope  of  eternal  life  takes  so  many  of  the  sweetest 
forms  of  social  life,  and  is  so  surrounded  by  the 
duties  and  trials  of  public,  domestic,  and  mortal 


last,  may  not  sanctify  the  character  at  all.  Such 
hopers  will  have  occasion  to  be  ashamed  before 
God  and  man,  whether  they  own  it  or  not  now  : 
and  the  shame  will  become  "  confusion  of  face,"  as 
well  as  of  spirit,  when  they  are  about  to  exchange 
worlds. 

I  would  have  you  hope  enough — to  make  you 
happy  in  your  mind,  and  holy  in  your  character. — 
For,  what  is  the  use  of  hoping  too  little,  to  pro- 
duce this  very  desirable  and  necessary  effect  ?  It 
cannot  be  produced  at  all  without  hope ;  and  there 
will  never  be  much  holiness  or  happiness  from 
poor  hopes.  They  will  either  produce  foor  spirits 
or  poorer  virtues.  She  who  has  not  hope  enough 
in  Christ,  to  keep  her  spirits  from  despondcncj'. 


life,  that  it  never  shines  too  briglitly  to  be  looked    will  not  do  nor  attempt  much  for  the  honor  of 


at,  nor  too  darkly  to  be  seen.  It  is  emphatically  a 
hope  set  brfore'm  :  not  so  far  off"  as  to  strain  the 
eye  in  looking  for  it,  nor  so  near  as  to  pain  the 
eye  in  looking  at  it. 

.^nd  then,  how  eflectually  it  is  set  before  us  ! — 
Tiie  pillar  of  cloud  and  tire  came  down  from 
heaven  into  the  wilderness,  une.xplained  and  un- 
heralded.    Neither  angel  nor  prophet  foretold  its 


Christ;  and  she  who  can  enjoy  herself  without 
settled  hopes  of  salvation,  will  content  herself 
with  still  less. 

This  subject  requires  to  be  looked  into  with 
much  impartiality,  and  with  no  small  degree  of 
holy  jealousy.  Now  it  is  quite  as  possible  for  you 
to  hope  too'little,  as  for  the  hypocrite  to  hope  too 
much.     "The  hope  of  the  hypocrite  shall  perish" 


descent  from  the  throne,  nor  its  continuance  on  because  he  is  a  hypocrite  ;  and  just  because  you 
tlie  footstool.  It  was  set  before  the  church,  with  are  not  a  hypocrite,  your  spirits  may  sink,  or  your 
only  its  own  light  and  shade  to  commend  it.     Re-      '  '  ■■•       ■ 

velation  did  not  define  its  nature,  nor  the  covenant 
ratify  its  duration,  nor  the  harps  of  glory  celebrate 
its  worth.  It  came  into  the  world  unsung,  and 
departed  from  the  world  unmissed.  Not  thus  is 
the  hope  of  eternal  life  set  before  us.  "The  bring- 
ing in  of  that  better  hope,"  was  not  in  silence,  nor 
in  darkness.  It  was  brought  into  the  world  with 
the  full  chorus  of  all  worlds.  The  hope  of  the 
world,  like  the  creation  of  the  world,  was  welcom- 
ed by  the  morning  stars  singing  together,  and  by 
all  llie  angelic  sons  of  God  shouting  for  joy.  The 
I/ird  Jesus  Christ  is  the  hope  of  glory  :  and  when 
God  brought  "  the  only  begotten  into  the  world, 
he  said,  and  let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship 
liim."     All  the  patriarchs  of  God  had  typified  hin> 


— all  the  prophets  of  God  liad  foretold  him — all 
the  oracles  of  God  had  described  him — all  the 
covenants  of  God  had  guarantied  him — all  the 
providences  of  God  had  accredited  him  as  the  hope 
t)(  the  world  ;  and,  to  crown  this  attestation  of 
his  character  and  errand,  all  the  armies  of  God 
sang  at  hi.s  advent,  "  Peace  on  earth,  and  good- 
will towards  men  !" 

Thus  the  hope  of  eternal  life  is  set  before  us  in 
the  person  and  sacrifice  of  liim,  upon  whom  God 
has  visibly  .set  all  the  seals  and  tokens  of  the  cter- 
nal  power  and  (Jodhead  :  and  by  the  ministry  and 
nuraries  of  men  who  could  not  be  deceived,  and 
of  aiig(,-|H  who  could  not  mistake.  Nor  is  the 
hnufii  of  hoping  in  Christ  set  before  us  less  clearly 
or  less  impr.-ssively,  than  the  fact  that  he  is  the 
"nly  hope  set  before  us.  The  concurrent  testimo- 
ny of  nil  ages,  w,  that  "hope  in  him  makcth  not 
ashameri."      Tin 


character  not  rise  at  all  in  strength  and  beauty. 
This  is  no  paradox,  whatever  it  may  seem  at  first 
sight.  There  is  sure  to  be  much  depression,  or 
but  little  diligence,  wherever  there  is  "  no  guile," 
and  but  little  hope.  And  for  this  obvious  reason. 
A  gudcless  mind  deals  so  honestly  with  itself,  that 
nothing  can  counterbalance  its  self-condemnation 
and  fear,  but  a  full  apprehension  of  the  sufficiency 
and  freeness  of  the  Saviour's  grace  ;  and,  there- 
fore, the  very  fidelity  of  the  conscience  must  pa- 
ralyze the  heart  or  the  hands  in  the  service  of 
God,  if  the  riches  of  that  grace  are  not  clearly 
seen  to  be  equally  adapted  and  designed  to  meet 
the  case.  Thus  there  cannot  be  good  spirits  with- 
out a  good  hope  through  grace,  wherever  the  con- 
science is  faithful  or  tender;  nor  will  such  a  con- 
science purify  the  character  much,  whilst  it  derives 
no  peace  from  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  It  must  be 
somewhat  pacified  by  the  Cross  of  Christ,  before 
it  can  delight  in  copying  the  example  of  Christ. 

Consider  this.  It  is  not  with  yon  now  as  it  once 
was,  nor  as  it  still  is  with  the  self-righteous,  that 
the  abandonment  of  a  wrong  habit,  or  the  com- 
mencement of  a  new  duty,  can  create  the  hope  of 
salvation.  You  know  the  way  of  salvation  too 
well,  to  imagine  that  you  can  make  your  peace 
with  God,  by  laying  down  sins,  or  by  takmg  up 
mere  moral  duties.  You  see  and  feel,  indeed,  the 
necessity  of  doing  both  ;  but  you  see  and  feel 
equally,  that  you  cannot  be  justified  by  the  works 
of  the  law,  whatever  good  they  might  do  you  in 
other  respects.  They  are  not  the  price  of  an  in- 
terest in  Christ,  nor  the  direct  way  of  finding  an 
mterest  in  him  ;  and  without  that,  you  knovv'  that 


?h  oroll  ui.h  nr  "f"""f  f-    '''"'l^''"  '"   '-^^'-eafly    they  will  be  of  no  avail.     Thus  mere  duty  must 
thronged  with  proofs  of  tins.      Even  on  earth,    ever  seem  to  vn„  nn„,  „.oU..  i.i ..n  ,L,  „o„ 


ever  seem  to  you  now  useless  labor,  until  you  can 


mfhfe  roof     1^   /rr^  the    work  from  love   and  gratitude  to  the  Saviour. - 

To  e    .id    oiMo  .  ,  l"    7"'^^''  f'^'  "''"",  ''^''    ^^^"'  ^^^"^  y«"  "^^^'^  ^^''1  ^vork,  until  vou  venture 
■'    e  vman  wloh^  ff'':^^^,  f ^.^^    to /,o/,e,  "that  by  the  grace  of  the  Lord   Jesus 

I  e ry  man  ^^  ho  h.  th  tins  hope  m  Christ :  Christ  you  shall  be  saved  "   Waiting  for  the  com- 
i  en  as  he  is  pure  ?     The  heart-    ing  of  this  good  hope,  like  working  for  it,  will  not 


purificth  himself 

hliThl^S'e'nr^irrl""'  °^  ^'^  '-jf-i  bi^?i<^"'"^-ii^i;.:r"h;'hoiiup;;s.;^ 

d  ],.,pc  of  just  e.crnpmg  hell  m  some  way  at   set  before  you  in  the  gospel."  or  live  in  susoense. 


THE    MARTHAS. 


25 


and  thus  in  indecision  too  ;  for  character  will  not 
settle  nor  rise,  whilst  hope  is  unsettled. 

I  do  not  forget,  in  saying  this,  that  there  are 
some  very  lovely  characters,  who  say  that  they 
have  little  or  no  hope.  They  have,  however,  more 
than  they  imagine.  I  do  not  mean  that  they  say 
one  thing  and  think  another  :  but  that  they  mean 
by  hope,  much  more  than  hope  itself  means. 

Hence,  in  speaking  of  their  own  case  they  use 
language  which,  however  familiar,  misleads  them- 
selves and  others :  "  I  cannot  see  my  interest  in 
Christ ;  cannot  see  my  title  to  the  promises ;  can- 
not see  my  election  or  my  calling."  Now  it  would 
not  be  altogether  unfair  nor  unkind,  to  bring  down 
upon  such  complaints  the  apostolic  remonstrance, 
"  What  a  man  seeth,  why  doth  he  yet  hope  for "! 
But  if  we  hope  for  what  we  see  not,  then  do  we 
with  patience  wait  for  it."  This  refers,  indeed, 
not  so  much  to  our  hoping  in  Christ  for  mercy  and 
grace  now,  as  to  the  things  hoped  for  when  the 
whole  creation,  in  common  with  the  church, 
"  shall  be  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  corrup- 
tion, into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God." 
Rom.  viii.  21 — 25.  Still  it  is  true,  that  hope,  like 
faith, is  not  "sight,"  nor  necessarily  "assurance," 
and,  therefore,  it  does  not  follow  that  an  humble, 
devout,  and  exemplary  woman  has  no  hope,  be- 
cause she  says,  "  I  cannot  see  my  interest  in 
Christ  or  the  promises."  In  speaking  thus,  she  is 
not  thinking  of  what  the  gospel  warrants  her  to 
hope  for ;  but  either  of  what  she  wishes  for,  or 
what  she  once  enjoyed. 

This  is  not  a  distinction  without  a  difference. 
It  is  by  far  too  common  to  confound  hope  with 
rapturous  ccstacy,  or  witli  perfect  peace,  or  with 
spiritual  and  heavenly  minded ness  :  and  when 
those  delicious  feelings  subside,  to  say, — that  hope 
is  lost.  It  would  hardly  bo  more  unwise  to  say, 
that  reason  is  lost.  Reason  had  as  much  connec- 
tion with  these  feelings,  whilst  they  lasted,  as 
hope  :  but,  who  suspects  that  reason  is  fled,  when 
rapture  or  holy  calm  is  gone  !  Neither  reason 
nor  hope  is  intended  to  keep  up  high  emotion  for 
ever. 

Thus  we  ought  to  be  very  careful  how  we 
speak  and  think  about  the  hope  of  salvation.  It 
is,  remember,  a  .sinner's  hope, — a  penitent's  hope 
— a  pilgrim's  hope  :  and,  therefore,  it  must  not 
be  expected  nor  desired  in  such  a  degree,  as 
would  banish  all  painful  feelings.  We  are  fully 
warranted,  and  quite  welcome,  to  hope  in  Christ 
for  present  grace  and  future  glory  :  but  we  are 
not  warranted  to  expect  such  grace  as  would 
leave  nothing  in  our  nature  to  humble  us ;  nor 
such  foretastes  of  heaven,  as  would  render  us  in- 
sensible to  trials  or  temj)tations  on  earth.  We 
may  be  really  happy,  notwithstanding  outward 
trials,  and  inward  struggles  ;  but  the  perfect  hap- 
piness of  being  without  any  of  them,  does  not 
belong  to  time  ;  it  is  the  bliss  of  eternity. 

I  am  not  contradicting  nor  forgetting  myself, 
by  thus  guarding  you  against  hoping  for  too  much. 
I  repeat,  with  more  confidence  than  ever,  that 
you  are  not  hoping  enough  in  Christ,  if  you  are 
unhappy  in  your  mind,  when  you  think  of  judg- 
ment or  eternity.  You  have  too  little  hope,  if 
either  your  spirits  sink,  or  your  efforts  relax,  in 
following  holiness.  I  must  go  still  further,  and 
sav,  it  is  not  exactly  the  sinner's  hope,  nor  the 
63  (    14) 


penitent's  hope,  nor  the  pilgrim's  hope,  that  you 
are  thinking  about,  if  you  say  that  you  can  get 
but  little  hope  from  the  gospel.  What  would  you 
have,  that  the  glorious  gospel  does  not  promise  ? 
Depend  upon  it,  you  are  seeking  some  unpromised 
form  of  the  hope  of  salvation,  or  some  dispropor- 
tionate degree  of  that  good  hope,  if  you  find  it  al- 
most impossible  to  hope  for  your  own  salvation. 
It  would  be  utterly  impossible  for  you  to  despair 
or  despond,  if  you  wanted  nothing  but  what  is 
promised. 

Be  not  offended  nor  surprised,  if  I  suspect  you 
of  wanting  more.  I  do  so,  because  I  think  favor- 
ably, upon  the  whole,  of  your  motives  and  spirit, 
in  attaching  a  very  high  meaning  to  Christian 
hope.  This  is  far  wiser  than  taking  low  views  of 
it.  You  are,  indeed,  quite  right  in  feeling  quite 
sure,  that  there  should  be  a  very  great  difference 
between  natural  hope  and  spiritual  hope.  That 
kind  of  hope  which  you  could  keep  up  witliout 
much  difficulty,  whilst  you  were  careless  or  for- 
mal, ought  not  to  satisfy  you,  now  that  you  know 
the  evil  of  sin,  and  the  infinite  value  of  the  soul 
and  salvation.  That  "great  salvation"  deserves 
and  requires  a  "good  hope,"  in  more  senses  than 
the  goodness  of  either  its  practical  influence  or 
its  humble  spirit :  it  ought  also  to  be  grateful 
and  joyful.  Well ;  it  may  be  both,  without  being 
all  that  you  mean  by  "a  good  iiope  through 
grace." 

Let  me  explain  myself  freely  on  this  point.  We 
are  very  prone  to  fix  the  meaning  of  hope  from 
our  first  taste  of  the  joy  of  salvation.  But  this, 
however  well  meant,  is  unwise.  It  is  unwarrant- 
ed. This  is  more  than  hope,  in  the  relief  which 
is  usually  obtained  from  the  first  sight  of  the  glory 
and  grace  of  the  Saviour.  The  Holy  Spirit  often 
renders  that  discovery  of  the  cross  so  cheering, 
or  so  charming,  that  the  whole  soul  is  absorbed 
and  transported  with  it.  We  can  think  of  nothing 
else.  We  can  wish  for  nothing  more.  It  is 
heaven  on  earth.  We  could  take  an  eternity 
of  it. 

"  That  holy  calm  within  the  brea.<:f, 
Seems  the  dear  pledge  of  heavenly  rest." 

But  although  this  be  hope,  it  is  also  mucli  more 
than  hope.  It  is  that  joy  of  salvation,  by  which 
God  revives  and  wins  the  heart  of  the  contrite 
ones.  It  is  that  manifestation  of  Himself,  by 
which  he  proves  to  us  that  he  "givetli  grace  to 
the  humble."  It  is  that  "  demonstration  of  the 
Spirit,"  which  places  beyond  all  doubt,  both  the 
reality  and  the  blessedness  of  vital  godliness.  In 
a  word  ;  it  is  the  strong  consolation  of  a  dying 
saint,  given  to  a  sinking  penitent,  that  she  may 
know  and  never  forget  the  worth  of  Clirist. 

Now  we  ought  to  be  very  thankful  for  this 
timely  and  complete  discovery  of  the  all-suffi- 
ciency of  the  atoning  sacrifice.  It  is  a  fine  secu- 
rity, for  ever  after,  against  false  doctrine  and  su- 
perficial experience.  It  is  not,  however,  a  secu- 
rity against  practical  error.  Accordingly,  one  of 
two  errors  is  often  fallen  into,  when  this  high  state 
of  enjoyment  falls  away.  It  does  subside  :  and 
then,  we  either  count  nothing  hope,  which  does 
not  come  up  to  it ;  or  we  do  no  more  in  religion, 
than  just  enough  to  be  somewhat  in  the  way,  or 


26 


THE    MARTHAS. 


not  exactly  rmt  of  the  way,  of  findino:  it  again, 
^nd  thus  it  is,  that  some  sink  into  despondency, 
and  otliers  into  heartless  formality.  One  becomes 
gad,  anl  another  inconsistent :  and  both  from  the 
same  cause,— tiiev  cannot  hope  as  they  «;nce  did. 
The  hope  (as  they  call  it)  which  first  cheered  the 
spirits  of  the  one,  and  inspired  the  diligence  of 
the  other  is  gone  :  and  because  they  cannot  get 
»7  back,  they  both  g">  back  ;  the  one  into  the  re- 
gion of  doubts  and  fears,  and  the  other  into  the 
region  of  declension. 

Now,  which  of  these  states  are  you  inl 
Which  ever  it  be,  there  is  but  one  remedy.  You 
must  regard  something  else  as  the  hope  of  salva- 
tion, tiian  a  return  of  the  precise  kind  and  degree 
of  jov  which  vou  first  called  hops.  I  do  not  say, 
that  that  joy 'will  never  revisit  your  spirit.  I  do 
not  think  (as  Sheshbazzar  would  have  said)  that 
the  candle  of  the  Lord  will  never  shine  upon  you 
again,  as  it  did  when  it  was  first  lighted.  But  I 
do  both  say  and  think,  that  it  will  not  do  so,  whilst 
you  are  merely  xcmlini:;  for  it.  You  must  be 
humble  enough  to  begin  with  the  sinner's  hope, 
and  to  go  on  with  the  pilgrim's  hope,  if  you  would 
be  iiappy  in  your  own  mind  again.  And,  why  not 
ho  thus  humble  and  content  1  What  right  has 
any  one  to  make  terms  with  God,  for  faith  or  obe- 
dience? 

Just  look  at  such  conduct  in  two  cases.    What 
would  you  think  of  a  woman  who  could  say  in 
words,— "I  have   not   that  comfort  in   religion, 
which   I  had  at  one  time  ;  and,  therefore,  I  have 
neither  heart  nor  motive  to  be  very  devotional  in 
my   closet,  or  very  exemplary  in  my  family,  or 
vc'ry  liberal  to  the  cause  of  God,  or  very  much 
attached  to  the  means  of  grace  7     I  was  all  this, 
whilst  my  comfort  lasted  :  but,  as  that  is  gone,  it 
would  be   a  kind  of  hypocrisij  on  my  part  now, 
were  I  to  do  all  tliat  I  used  to  do,  just  as  if  no- 
thing had  happened  to  discourage  or  disconcert 
inc.     I  know  very  well,  that  I  am  not  doing  right 
at  present :  but  I  know  too,  that  I  am  quite  wil- 
ling to  return  to  my  'first  love,'  and  to  my  'first 
works'  too,  whenever  God  returns  my  first  hopes 
to  inc.     He  has  only  to  shine  and  smile  upon  my 
Houl  as  in  the  days  of  old,  in  order  to  my  becom- 
ing again  all  tliat  I  ican  in  the  days  of  old.    This, 
I   am   waiting  for;  and   I   hope  it  will  come  in 
course  of  time.     Accordingly,  I  do  not  go  alto- 
gether out  of  the  way  of  meeting  with  it.     I  do 
not   pray  much  in  secret,  certainly  :  but  I  still 
K'cep  under  a  faithful  ministry,  and  keep  up  my 
innncctions  with  the  church  and  sacraments  of 
C.'irist.     This,  indeed,  is  my  chief  reason  for  hop- 
mg  at  all :  for  if  God  do  not  meet  with  my  soul 
again  there,  I  am  not  likely  to  find  him  again  at 
home.     I  have  no  heart  to  seek  him  at  home 
now  ;  but,  could  I  only  get  such  another  strong 
impulse  from  the  sanctuary,  as  that  which  first 
sent  me  to  my  closet  and  my  Bible,  I  make  no 
fioubt  but  I  should  go  on  again  as  well  as  ever. 
And,  is   not   tiiis   new   impulse  likely  to  come! 
Surely,  my  soul  will  not  be  '  required'  of  me,  whilst 
it  is  in  this  unprepared  state,  nor  before  God  has 
healed    my    backsliding!      If   it   should  be   re- 
quired   of   me    'this    night'  —  or    this    year  — 

wliat, V 

What  would  you  say  to  a  case  like  this  ?  Shesh- 
bazzar would  have  said  at  once,  and  that  in  his 


most  solemn  and  lender  manner,  "Take  the  biii- 
ner's  hope  :  for  as  a  backsliding  child,  no  line  of 


the  '  scarlet  thread'  of  adoption  will  save  you,  like 
Rahab,  now  that  the  ark  of  the  covenant  is  sound- 
ing its  ram's  horns  around  your  walls."  I  say, 
in  plainer  terms,  " '  The  hope  set  before  you  in 
the  gospel,'  may  well  suffice  you.  It  would  ill 
become  you  to  stand  out  or  stipulate  with  God  for 
your  first  joy.  He  deserves  your  '  first  love,'  and 
your  '  first  works'  too,  for  the  hope  still  before 
you  in  the  gospel.  And  it  is  this,  '  Whosoever 
shall  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be 
saved.'  This  is  hope  enough  to  make  any  one 
happy,  who  believes  it :  yes,  and  holy  too  :  for 
what  could  bind  you  to  follow  holiness,  if  the  as- 
suring promise  of  salvation,  from  the  lips  of  a  God 
who  cannot  lie,  do  not  ? 

"  Do  you  dislike  to  liave  your  hope  of  salvation 
thus  thrown  upon  the  evenJual  answer  of  earnest 
prayer?  If  so,  you  are  not  humble  enough  yet, 
to  welcome  salvation  by  grace  alone.  You  will, 
however,  be  glad  to  do  so,  when  you  know  your- 
self more  intimately."  Thus  I  should  address 
such  a  woman,  who  was  still  "  prefessing  godli- 
ness," and  yet  unwilling  to  take  up  hope  by 
prayer. 

Look  now  at  another  case.  There  is  a  woman, 
not  worldly  minded  ;  not  exactly  averse  to  devo- 
tion or  diligence  ;  and  not  at  all  wishing  for  any 
assurance  of  hope  or  faith,  which  would  be  a  pil- 
low to  sloth  or  inconsistency.  But  she  has  lost 
all  her  hope  ;  as  she  calls  her  first  enjoyment  at 
the  cross  and  the  mercy-seat.  She  can  neither 
glow  nor  melt,  think  nor  feel,  there,  as  she  once 
did :  and  just  because  she  cannot,  she  says,  that 
she  cannot  see  one  ray  of  hope  for  herself.  The 
fact  is,  she  means  by  a  ray  of  hope,  a  beam,  if  not 
a  burst,  of  that  joy  which  shone  upon  her  soul, 
when  she  was  first  enabled  to  commit  her  soul 
into  the  hands  of  Christ :  or  she  wants  a  degree 
of  hope  which  would  put  down  at  once  all  the 
plagues  of  her  heart ;  and  keep  out  all  tempta- 
tion and  vain  thoughts  ;  and  make  all  duty  de- 
light, and  all  trials  easy.  She  says,  indeed,  that 
she  would  be  thankful  for  a  single  and  the  slightest 
ray  of  hope.  But,  tell  her  that  God  is  sure  to 
answer  her  cry  for  mercy  ;  and  that,  although  a 
fi.xed  day-star  of  hope  does  not  cheer  her.  It  is 
not  that /o?-m  of  hope  which  cheered  her  formally. 
It  does  not  warm  or  melt  her  heart  at  a  glance, 
as  her  first  believing  views  of  the  Lamb  slain  did. 
She  is  also  too  agitated,  or  too  depressed,  to  grasp 
with  her  understanding,  the  sublime  fact,  that 
God's  command,  "  Call  on  me,"  is  God's  com- 
mand to  h,(ype  in  him.  He  means  "  hope,"  when 
he  says,  "Pray;"  he  means,  "Pray,"  whenever 
he  says,  "hope."  But  the  very  simplicity  of  this 
way  of  setting  hope  before  us,  seems  mystery,  if 
not  mockery,  to  a  sad  spirit,  when  sadness  has 
been  long  indulged.  "  Would  not  God  show  some 
'  token  for  good'  at  once,  (it  is  said)  if  he  intended 
to  be  gracious  ?  But  he  sealeth  up  even  the 
stars!"  Yes;  but  just  that  the  desponding  may 
look  at  the  sun.  It  is  not  breaking  a  "  bruised 
reed,"  to  say  so.  She  will  never  hope,  who  does 
not  see  that  the  command  to  pray,  is  a  sun  "  shin- 
ing ill  its  strength."  How  truly  Paul  says,  "  We 
are  saved  by  hope  !" 


THE    MARTHAS 


2T 


ALLEGORY.    No.  IH. 

Rachel's  cure. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  tent  in  the  wilderness, 
Esrom  spread  the  skin  of  the  young  lion,  which 
had  perished  in  the  swellings  of  Jordan,  for  a 
couch  to  Sheshbazzar.  The  patriarch  said,  as  he 
sat  down  upon  it,  "  An  old  lion  would  not  have 
rushed  over  the  precipice  after  his  prey,  when  the 
Jordan  had  overflowed  all  its  banks.  He  would 
have  couched  when  he  heard  the  roar  of  the  wa- 
ters ;  or  hunted  in  another  direction,  until  they 
had  subsided.  Esrom  !  you  have  often  pursued 
your  speculations  into  the  swellings  of  a  river, 
which,  like  the  Jordan,  discharges  itself  into  the 
Dead  Sea.  It  is  of  the  Lord's  mercies,  that  you 
were  not  swept  by  the  wild  waves  of  conjecture, 
into  the  dark  Asphaltic  of  idolatry.  You  may 
well  say  with  David,  of  the  God  of  your  fathers, 
— '  He  sent  from  above,  he  took  me — he  drew 
me  out  of  many  waters.'  But  for  this,  '  the  proud 
waves'  of  Philistia,  Egypt,  or  Babylon,  had  '■come 
into  thy  soul :'  for  all  their  billows  went  over  thee, 
and  even  their  water-spouts  had  thee  often  under 
their  wings.  You  despised  idols  ;  but  you  wor- 
shipped the  powers  of  nature,  and  all  but  consult- 
ed the  powers  of  darkness.  You  would  have  di- 
vined with  the  cup  of  Pharaoh,  or  stipulated  with 
the  witch  of  Endor,  for  the  secrets  of  the  future; 
and  for  the  secrets  of  the  invisible,  you  would 
have  questioned,  alternately,  the  oracles  of  Baby- 
lon, the  graves  of  the  dead,  or  the  stars  of  hea- 
ven." 

Such  had  been  the  character  of  Esrom,  until 
the  master-spirit  of  Sheshbazzar,  and  the  meek 
spirit  of  Racliel,  threw  their  joint  spell  over  his 
prying  curiosity.  Even  then,  he  bowed  his  head 
only,  to  Judaism.  His  understanding  yielded  to 
the  arguments  of  the  patriarch,  and  his  heart  to 
the  influence  of  the  virgin  of  Beersheba  :  but 
upon  his  spirit,  the  truth,  not  the  gj-ace  of  Juda- 
ism, had  all  the  power.  It  was  the  logic  of  the 
system,  not  the  mercy  of  the  dispensation,  that 
affected  him.  Its  external  evidence  was  a  hook 
in  his  jaws ;  but  its  internal  glory,  as  the  only 
hope  of  a  sinner,  had  no  charms  for  him.  The 
rays  of  that  glory  fell  upon  the  scales  of  his  self- 
righteousness,  as  the  winds  of  heaven  on  the 
scales  of  Leviathan,  and  the  bones  of  Behemoth, 
unfelt ;  "  one  was  so  near  to  another,  that  no  air 
could  come  between  them."  Job  xli.  He  had 
bowed  at  the  side  of  Sheshbazzar,  amidst  the 
thousands  of  Israel,  when  the  high-priest  went 
within  the  veil  with  the  interceding  atonement ; 
but,  although  the  veil  of  the  temple  shook  with 
the  intensity  of  their  emotion,  Esrom's  heart  nei- 
ther beat  with  suspense  before,  nor  burned  with 
gratitude  after,  the  answer  of  peace  came  from 
the  mercy-seat.  "  The  system  must  be  true  ;  and 
therefore  it  ought  to  be  respected," — was  the 
whole  amount  of  his  worship.  "  Its  miracles 
counterbalance  its  mysteries," — was  his  only  rea- 
son for  believing.  The  eyes  of  his  understanding, 
like  the  eyelids  of  the  morning,  opened  without 
fear  ;  and  his  hopes,  like  the  wings  of  the  morn- 
ing, expanded  without  effort ;  whether  he  thought 
of  life  or  death,  time  or  eternity.  He  was  too 
rich,  to  feel  depend^nt  on  Providence ;  and  too 


proud  to  be  a  debtor  to  grace.  He  took  for 
granted,  that  the  Utile  mercy  he  needed  (for,  how 
could  it  be  much,  after  all  his  morals  1)  must,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  be  quite  sure.  For,  what  had 
he  ever  done,  that  his  soul  should  be  in  any  dan- 
ger 1  He  had,  indeed,  been  rather  free  in  his  in- 
quiries :  but  then,  truth  was  his  object !  Thus 
Esrom  reasoned;  and  thus  he /eZ/ too.  He  had 
not  borne  "  the  yoke  in  his  youth."  Like  Moab, 
he  had  "  been  at  ease,  from  his  youth  ;"  and  thus, 
his  conscience  had  never  been  confronted  with 
the  terrors  of  the  law  or  eternity.  Nothing  had 
ever  disturbed  his  self-complacency,  until  Rachel's 
penitence,  on  hearing  the  parable  of  the  grapes  of 
Gomorrah,  compelled  him  to  pause  and  ask  him- 
self,— "  If  Rachel  weep,  can  I  be  right,  or  altoge- 
ther safe  1  Her  spirit  is  both  purer  and  humbler 
than  ray  spirit :  and  yet  she  trembles  before  God  ! 
Is  this  wisdom  or  weakness,  on  her  part  1  Weak- 
ness !  Who  ever  saw  Rachel  iveak  ?  Her  spirit 
has  towered  in  strength  and  majesty,  ever  since 
its  roots,  like  the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  '  dipped  their 
feet  in  the  oil'  of  the  olive  valley.  Can  I  be  safe 
— if  she  was  in  danger  until  ihen  ?"  This  ques- 
tion went  to  his  heart :  and  whilst  it  lodged  there, 
Rachel  was  won,  and  Sheshbazzar  conciliated, 
and  Esrom  himself  somewhat  humbled.  Still, 
his  "eye  was  not  single."  It  caught  occasional 
glimpses  of  the  genius  of  Judaism,  as  the  rehgion 
of  a  sinner,  and  as  the  shadow  of  good  things  to 
come ;  but  it  never  looked  steadfastly  to  the  sub- 
stance of  the  system,  nor  to  the  simphcity  of  his 
own  motives.  He  became  a  great  "  doer  of  the 
law,"  just  that  he  might  be  a  less  debtor  to  the 
covenant.  He  threw  the  whole  weight  of  his  in- 
fluence into  the  synagogue;  but  chiefly,  that  he 
might  conciliate  the  elders  to  Rachel.  He  beau- 
tified the  building,  and  placed  new  copies  of  the 
law  upon  the  desk ;  but  not  until  he  found  out 
that  Rachel  was  preparing  splendid  hangings,  ot 
her  own  needle-work,  for  the  tabernacle.  He 
often  led  the  choir,  when  the  great  Hosanna  was 
sung,  if  Rachel  was  present :  but  when  she  was 
not  there,  his  voice  was  sure  to  be  out  of  time, 
owing  (as  he  said)  to  his  being  out  too  early 
amongst  his  reapers,  or  too  late  amongst  his 
sheep-folds,  in  a  day  of  rain.  Thus  his  eye  was 
not  single,  even  when  his  hand  was  most  active 
and  liberal. 

Rachel  was  the  first  to  discover  his  mixed  mo- 
tives, and  not  slow  to  arraign  them.  With  "equal 
promptness  and  point,  she  asked  him,  when  his 
mantle  of  "Jlax  and  tvool,"  would  be  ready  to 
wear  before  the  Lord  in  Zionl  and,  why  he  did 
not  offer  "  swine's  blood,"  as  well  as  the  firstlings 
of  his  flock,  at  the  altar  ?  Her  parable,  as  she 
applied  it,  told  upon  his  conscience,  as  "The 
Grapes  of  Gomorrah"  did  upon  her  own.  He  was 
shocked  by  the  discovery  of  his  mixed  motives ; 
and,  from  that  time,  began  to  pray,  "  Unite  my 
heart  to  fear  Thy  name."  The  impiety  of  serving 
the  Creator  for  the  sake  of  the  creature,  unveil- 
ed to  him  all  the  ungodhness  of  his  spirit ;  and 
made  him  smite  upon  his  breast,  in  all  the  bitter- 
ness of  self-condemnation.  Sheshbazzar  had 
marked  this  revolution,  and  resolved  to  train  Es- 
rom for  the  ELDERSHIP  of  Beersheba  ;  and  as  his 
own  successor  in  the  guidance  of  the  pilgrimages 
to  Jerusalem,     For  this  he  had  often  "wrestled 


28 


THE    MARTHAS. 


until  the  break  of  day,"  with  the  angel  of  the  co- 
vcnant.  For  thLs  he  had  long  watched  and  prayed 
dailv  It  was  to  this  he  referred,  when  he  said  to 
Esrom,  in  the  wilderness,  ^^  But  for  your  sake 
Rachel  would  not  have  been  restored." 

He  repeated  this  in  the  tent ;  and  added,  "The 
.Sliephcrd  of  Israel  intends  thee  to  feed  his  sheep 
and  lambs,  and  tlierelbre  he  will  spare  the  lielp, 

•  meet  for'  thee.  Thou  art  not  fit  to  be  trusted 
alone  yet,  with  such  a  charge.  Thou  couldst  not 
be  calculated  upon  for  prudence  or  fidelity,  if  thy 
betrothed  were  taken  away  at  this  time.  It  is 
not,  therefore,  for  thy  merit  she  is  spared  ;  but  in 
pity  to  thy  weakness,  and  in  consideration  of  the 
work  thou  art  called  unto.  Give  thy  heart  to  that 
work,  from  henceforth;  and  thus  render  unneces- 
8ar>-  .-uch  visitations  as  I  incurred.  God  had  to 
wri'tc  me  'childl/'ss,'  and  tlien  'widower'  belore  I 
gave  all  my  heart  to  Jiis  glory.     lie  had  to  make 

•  my  soul  forget  prosperity,'  before  I  would  identi- 
fy iiiy  interests  with  his  cause,  or  seek  my  happi- 
ness'in  'the  good  of  his  heritage.'  " 

Then,  turning  to  Rachel,  who  sat  leaning  her 


"  Whilst  he  was  3'et  speaking,"  Rachel  was  reco- 
vering. 


No.  IV. 


VAKIETIF.S,    FKOM    INATTENTION. 

Too  much  importance  cannot  be  attached  to  a 
right  creed,  except  when  it  is  put  in  the  room  of 
a  holy  character,  or  of  an  humble  spirit.  Then, 
however,  there  is  something  equally  awful  and 
ominous  in  orthodoxy.  Not  that  a  sound  creed 
itself  is  a  dangerous  thing.  Far  from  it !  Indeed, 
there  can  be  no  true  holiness  nor  humility,  with- 
out soundness  in  thu  faith,  upon  all  cardinal  points. 
There  may  be  virtues  of  character,  which  are  in- 
tended  for  holiness :  and  virtues  of  temper,  which 
are  intended  for  humility :  but,  as  both  hoHness 
and  humility  have  their  chief  reasons  in  the  re- 
vealed character  and  will  of  God,  the  conduct  and 
spirit  (however  good)  which  are  not  chiefly  influ- 
enced by  these  reasons,  are  not  those  virtues. — 


head  upon  the  ark  of  her  covenant.s,  the  old  rnan  j  g|^g  ^^,]jq  ^^^5  ^,0  further  than  the  general  princi- 
said,  "  R-ichel,  I  am  not  a  prophet,  nor  the  son  of  j  pie_»  j  ought  to  be  holy  because  God  is  holy ; 
a  prophet ;  but  I  have  studied  the  past,  and  thus  ]  ^^^  humble  because  God  is  great,"  is  certainly 
c^in  pnticipate  the  future,  in  some  of  its  certain  j  ^^jger  than  the  woman  who  merely  avoids  vice  and 
want.-?.  It  will  always  want  Sarahs  for  its  Abra-  p^j^jg  because  they  are  vulgar  :  but  still,  the  for- 
hams,  Rachels  for  its  Jacobs,  and  Deborahs  for  its  |  j^^j.  -g  almost  as  far  from  being  "  wise  unto  salva- 
LapidoHiB.  Wiiilst  Samuels  arejvanted  at  ^he  |  ^jq^^..  ^g  ^jjg  ]atter.  She  assigns,  indeed,  a  much 
'         "  1  than  the  latter  for  her  conduct  and 

spirit :  for  it  is  a  scriptural  reason.  That,  how- 
ever, is  not  enough,  so  long  as  it  is  her  only  rea- 
son. God  has  laid  down  other  reasons  than  his 
own  holiness,  why  we  should  be  holy ;  and  other 
reasons  than  his  own  greatness,  why  we  should 
be  humble.  He  enforces  these  graces  of  charac- 
ter, by  the  purifying  virtue  and  design  of  the  blood 
of  Christ,  and  by  the  sanctifying  influences  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and" by  the  sublime  perfection  of  hea- 
venly bliss.  Now,  although  all  these  reasons  may 
be  resolved  into  the  glorious  holiness  of  God,  as 
their  original  fountain,  or  moral  cause,  it  is  cer- 
tainly not  as  such,  that  she  sees  the  matter,  who 
is  less  influenced  by  the  love  of  Christ,  than  by  the 
law  of  duty.  Angels  only  are  able  to  be  holy, 
"because  God  is  holy."  She  is,  therefore,  both 
heedless  and  heartless  in  religion,  who  satisfies 
herself  with  this  single  motive.  Alas,  all  the  mo- 
tives and  reasons  furnished  by  all  the  wonders  of 
redeeming  love,  produce  but  too  little  holiness, 
even  in  those  who  admire  them  most ;  that  morah- 
ty,  therefore,  which  can  subsist  without  them, 
must  be  very  meagre  indeed. 

It  is,  however,  a  very  solemn  and  startling  fact, 
that,  in  some  things,  the  character  and  spirit  of 
females,  who  act  only  from  a  strong  sense  of  pro- 
priety, or  upon  a  vague  principle  of  duty,  surpass 
those  of  some  women  who  profess  "godliness," 
upon  evangelical  principles.  "This  is  a  sore  evil 
under  the  sun  !"  It  proves  that  there  is  a  way  of 
beheving  "in  vain,"  or  of  "holding  the  truth" 
without  the  love  of  it :  a  state  of  mind  and  con- 
science, of  all  others  the  most  ruinous  !  For,  if 
the  glorious  gospel  is  believed,  without  being 
obeyed,  one  of  two  things  is  certain  :  either  that 
the  person  is  verging  towards  a  reprobate  mind, 
or  that  she  was  never  renewed  at  all  in  the  spirit 


altar  of  the  Lord,  there  must  be  Hannahs  in  Ra-  j  better 
mathaimzophim.  Even  whilst  Samsons  are  need- 
ed in  israfi,  there  must  be  Mothers  in  Israel,  like 
the  wife  of  Manoah  :  and  all  such  wives  and  mo- 
tlicrsmust  'bear  the  yoke  in  their  youth.'  God 
ha.s  laid  his  heaviest  yoke  on  thy  young  neck;  and 
thou  has  not  been,  'as  a  bullock  unaccustomed'  to 
it,  impatient,  or  ob.stinate.  Ye  can  both  say,  'our 
hearts  are  not  turned  back,  though  Thou,  O  God, 
hast  sore  broken  us  in  the  place  of  dragons,  and 
covered  us  with  tlie  shadow  of  death.'  Ve  have 
both  gone  astray  like  lost  sheep  ;  but  ye  both  re- 
turned to  the  shepiierd  of  Israel,  the  moment  he 
employed  his  guardian  crook  as  a  chastising  rod; 
and  now,  it  is  over  you  as  a  pastoral  crook  again, 
and  will  soon  guide  you  back  in  peace,  to  all  the 
preen  pastures  and  still  waters  of  Zion.  This  le- 
prosy will  give  place  to  health  in  thy  countenance ; 
and  this  lowness  of  spirit-s  to  the  joy  of  salvation. 
But,  my  children  !  let  the  dawn  of  this  hope,  as  it 
b^l^lltens  unto  perfect  day,  bring  all  your  respon- 
sihdilirf,  as  well  as  your  prospects,  distinctly  be- 
fnre  you.  You  are  about  to  bo  blessed  again,  that, 
like  Abrnhnm  and  Sarah,  ye  may  be  'a  blessing,' 
in  your  iiouse  and  neighborhood.  Know  there- 
tore,  and  remember,  that  if  ye  dare  to  '  live  unto 
yo'irselves'  again,  '  a  worse  thing  will  befall  you.' " 
There  was  no  occasion  to  prolong  the  conversa- 
tion. Rachel's  leprosy  was  rapidly  pas.sing  away. 
'I'he  composure  and  tenderness  of  Sheshbazzar, 
h  id  created  a  crisis  in  her  spirits,  which  led  on 
hir  health,  as  if  Lot's  angel  had  taken  her  by  the 
hand,  and  wiiispered  a  message  of  peace  from  the 
ihroiif,  in  tones  and  terms  of  heavenly  sympathy  ; 
for  Siieshbazzar  do.'jed  the  evening  "with  prayer. 
And,  what  a  prayer !  Never,  since  Jacob  wrestled 
uitli  the  angel  on  Peniel,  had  such  petitions  been 
poured  from  the  heart,  or  pressed  into  heaven. 


THE    MARTHAS 


29 


of  her  mind.  The  latter  is,  indeed,  the  more  like-  i  courage  to  avow  and  evince  your  faith ;)  and  to 
ly  supposition ;  for  "  a  reprobate  mind,"  or  aban-  ;  courage,  knowledge  ;  and  to  knowledge,  temper- 
donment  to  judicial  hardness  of  the  heart,  is  a  ance;  and  to  temperance,  patience;  and  to  pa- 
curse  but  rarely  incurred  by  "  women  professing  I  tience,  godliness  ;  and  to  godliness,  brotherly  kind- 
godliness."  Those  of  them  who  are  very  incon-  \  ness ;  and  to  brotherly  kindness,  charity.  For  if 
sistent,  may  be  safely  regarded  as  unconverted. —  ;  these  things  be  in  you  and  abound,  they  make  you 
Still,  it  is  a  very  awful  thing,  when  a  woman  can  ;  that  ye  shall  be  neither  barren  nor  unfruitful  in 
give  herself  credit  for  being  converted  to  God  by  j  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ:  But 
the  Holy  Spirit,  whilst  all  her  religion  consists  in  j  (she)  that  lacketh  these  things  is  blind,  and  can- 
talking  about  religion.  Unregeneracy  is  dread-  ;  not  see  afar  off,  and  hatii  forgotten  that  (she)  was 
ful,  even  in  a  woman  who  is  utterly  ignorant  of  t  purged  from  (her)  old  sins.  Wherefore  the  ra- 
the great  truths  of  the  gospel  of  salvation :  but  it  I  ther  give  diligence  to  make  your  calling  and  elec- 
is  absolutely  horrible,  when  found  in  connection  I  tion  sure  ;  for  if  ye  do  these  things,  ye  shall  never 
with  the  knowledge  and  acknowledgment  of  these  j  fall." 

supreme  truths.  The  very  devils  tremble  at  what  i  Now  whatever  else  you  fear  or  feel  on  reading 
they  beheve.  The  man  or  woman,  therefore,  ;  this  very  solemn  and  heart-searching  oracle,  you 
who  can  believe  all  that  is  peculiar,  inspiring,  and  [  are  deeply  conscious  of,  and  concerned  about  one 
solemn  in  the  gospel,  and  yet  not  obey  that  gos-  thing; — that  you  may  '■'■nexer  fall.'"  That  has 
pel,  is  less  affected  by  it  than  even  Satan  and  his  i  fixed  your  eye,  and  affected  your  heart.  You 
angels.  They,  indeed,  hate  it  with  perfect  ha-  |  cannot  bear  the  idea  of  falling  away  from  God  en- 
tred  ;  but  still  they  stand  in  awe  of  it,  and  yield  to  tirely  and  finally.  You  may  not  be  so  fascinated 
it  the  homage  of  fear.  How  infatuated  then  must  I  by  the  prospect  of  "  an  abundant  entrance  into 
she  be,  whose  religion  begins  and  ends  with  hear-  !  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
ing  and  talking  of  "  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  !"  j  Jesus  Christ,"  as  for  the  sake  of  thai,  to  add  "  all 
That  truth  is  intended  to  rule  both  the  tongue  and  these  things  to  your  faith."  You  may  even  be  so 
the  temper;  to  subdue  the  love  of  the  world,  and  heartless  about  heaven,  as  to  care  little  how  you 
the  love  of  ease;  to  turn  sloth  into  activity,  and    enter  it,  if  you  are  only  admitted  at  last:  but  you 


selfishness  into  cheerful  benevolence  ;  and  thus  to 
make  all  whom  it  blesses,  "  a  blessing"  to  others, 
to  the  full  extent  of  their  abdity. 

I  want,  by  these  hints,  to  make  you  as  much 
afraid  of  not  following  the  Lord  fully,  as  you  are 
of  denying  the  Lord  who  bought  you ;  as  much 
shocked  at  partial  obedience  and  heartless  devo- 
tion, as  at  open  infidehty.  Now,  you  would  not  i 
for  worlds  be  sceptics  nor  scorners.     Rather  than  i 


are  not  so  lost  to  all  right  feeling,  as  to  care  no- 
thing about  missing  that  kingdom,  or  falling  short 
of  it.  Well  ]  make  the  most  of  this  feeling,  if  it 
thus  be  the  best  and  the  strongest  of  your  present 
religious  emotions.  It  is  a  good  feehng  in  itself; 
and,  accordingly,  the  fear  of  falling  away  is  ofren 
appealed  to  in  the  Scriptures.     Rom.  xi.  17,  22. 

You  do,  then,  fear  apostacy.     You  are  neither 
so  "  high-minded,"  nor  so  earthly-minded,  as  not 


apostatise  from  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  or  than  !  to  fear  falling:  nor  so  "  double-minded"  as  to  pre 
hold  it  in  unrighteousness,  you  would  do,  give,  and  I  tend  to  be  fearless.  Well;  so  far,  you  are  not 
pray  more  than  ever  you  have  tried  hitherto. —  j  "blind,"  even  if  you  "lack"  some  of  those  things 


Yes  ;  were  you  quite  sure,  or  even  very  suspi- 
cious, that  the  degree  in  which  you  are  now  fol- 
lowing God  in  duty  and  devotion,  was  no  security 
against  final  apostacy,  and  no  conclusive  proof  of 
saving  piety,  you  would  bestir  yourself  at  once, 
and  make  a  new  effort  to  act  up  to  your  avowed 
principles. 

Are  you,  then,  quite  sure  that  you  have  gone 
further  in  the  narrow  way,  than  "those  who  draw  j  "  calling  and  election  are  made  Rure,"  and 
back  unto  perdition  ?"     Is  it  beyond  all  doubt  that  ]  falling"  certain 


which  constitute  the  security  against  falling.  You 
do  not,  however,  "  see  afar  off,"  (are  not  long- 
siglited — do  not  look  without  winking)  if  you  ima- 
gine that  you  can  safely  continue  to  lack  any  of 
these  things.  Each  of  them  is  an  essential  fea- 
ture of  that  "  Divine  nature"  or  holiness,  without 
which  you  cannot  see  the  Lord.  It  is  by  having 
them  all  in  you,  so  as  to  "abound"  in  them,  that 
"■       '    never 


you  are  following  the  Lord  far  enough,  to  prove 
that  you  have  been  "  drawn  by  the  cords  of  Love," 
and  "led  by  the  Spirit!"  1  do  not  at  all  ques- 
tion your  sincerity,  nor  the  correctness  of  your 
principles,  so  far  as  you  do  follow  the  Lord.  My 
inquiry  is,  are  you  fully  persuaded  in  your  own 
mind,  that  you  are  diligent  enough  to  "make 
your  calling  and  election  sure .'"  Does  your  own 
conscience  bear  you  witness,  that  you  are  doing 
all  those  things,  of  which  God  saith,  if  ye  do  them, 
'ye  shall  never  fall !"     Do  read  agfain  the  list  of 


Are  you  beginning  to  tire  of  this  process  of  rea- 
soning and  remonstrance!  It  is  not  mine,  re- 
member !  Alas,  I  feel  it,  like  yourself,  to  be  very 
strict,  and  even  somewhat  stern  too.  Ag?L\n  and 
again  I  have  been  tempted  to  shut  my  eyes  upon 
.some  of  the  many  things,  thus  inseparably  linked 
together,  and  then  laid  altogether  upon  me,  as  ne- 
cessary to  keep  me  fi-om  falling.  I  have  caught 
myself  asking,  "  Cannot  calling  and  election  too 
be  made  sure,  without  adding  so  many  things  to 
faith!"     Can   I  not  "stand"  at  less  expense  of 


these  essential  things.  2  Peter  i.  5 — 11.  What ;  i  time,  thought,  and  effort?  Who  gives  all  this 
is  it  enough  for  you,  that  you  remember  the  out-  j  diligence,  to  make  sure  against  falling !  Do  all 
line  of  the  passage  I  have  tiius  noted?  Do,  then,  fall,  who  "lack"  any  of  these  things?  Have  I 
remember  that  clause  of  it,  (changing  the  pro-  not  stood  for  years,  although  I  have  not  abound- 
noun,)  she  "that  lacketh  these  things  is  blind  and  '  ed  much  in  some  of  these  virtues?  Do  I  jiot  see 
cannot  see  afar  off  and  hath  forgotten  that  she  j  around  me  not  a  few,  who  are  doing  even  less  to 
was  purged  from  her  old  sins."  If  you  have  any  stand  than  myself,  and  yet  not  at  all  afraid  of  fall- 
pretensions  to  smcerity,  you  will  read  again,  now,  |  ing,  nor  thought  to  be  in  any  danger  of  it  ?" 
the  list  itself;  "  Add  to  your  faith  virtue  ;  (that  is,  I      Thus  there   are   mom^nt-s  of  temptation,   and 


30 


THE    MARTHAS, 


moods  of  temper,  when  one  could  almost  fly  into  a 
passion,  as  well  as  get  impatient,  with  the  strait 
meshes  of  Peter's  net.  These  tossings  and  twist- 
ings  are  not  made,  indeed,  in  order  to  escape  from 
the  fisherman's  net  altogether.  We  do  not  want 
the  hberty  of  those  fislics  which  keep  out  of  the 
gospel-net,  nor  of  tliose  "bad"  ones  which  are 
sure  to  be  "cast  away,"  when  it  is  drawn  to  the 
shores  of  eternity  :  but  we  are,  alas,  prone  to  take 
more  liberty  than  God  sanctions. 

How  is  this  to  be  cured?  It  is  a  bad,  yea,  a 
dangerous  disposition.  Do  not,  however,  make  it 
u-or^e  than  it  really  is.  I  mean, — do  not  conclude 
that  all  Ls  wrong  in  your  heart,  because  all  is  not 
vet  right.  Look  not  so  exclusively  upon  the  things 
wliich  you  lack,  as  to  overlook  entirely  the  things 
which  you  love  in  religion.  You  have  no  objec- 
tion to  do  some  of  the  things  which  are  thus  in- 
sisted upon,  as  securities  against  falhng.  Nay, 
there  is  not  one  of  them  you  would  throw  out  of 
the  list,  or  set  aside  altogether.  Consider:  you 
would  not  "  add  to  your  faith,  vice  ;  nor  to  your 
virtue,  ignorance  ;  nor  to  your  knowledge,  intem- 
perance ;  nor  to  your  temperance,  impatience ; 
nor  to  your  patience,  ungodliness;  not  to  your 
godliness,  unsisterly  harshness;  nor  to  your  kind- 
ness, uncharitableness."  The  very  idea  of  this 
change  revolts  you  !  You  would  not  for  worlds 
reverse  the  laws  of  holiness  in  this  way.  The  ex- 
clamation, "  Wiiat  fellowship  hath  light  with  dark- 
ness, or  (Jlirist  with  Belial?"  rushes  from  your 
heart  to  your  lips,  the  moment  you  glance  at  the 
glaring  inconsistency. 

There  it  is !  I  knew  how  the  scale  would  turn, 
when  you  were  fairly  dealt  with.  It  is  not  immo- 
ral freedom,  that  there  is  a  craving  for  in  your 
hf*r'.rt.  You  do  not  want  a  vice  in  the  room  of  a 
virtue.  Even  the  virtue  you  lack  most,  you  do 
not  exactly  dislike.  It  is  the  trouble  of  c.uUicat- 
i'ltf  ir,  that  is  tlic  ciiief  hardship  to  you.  If  virtue 
would  grow  out  of  faith,  or  knowledge  out  of  vir- 
tue, or  patience  out  of  temperance,  or  godliness 
out  of  patience,  or  charity  out  of  godliness,  with- 
out any  effort  or  care  on  your  part,  you  would 
have  but  little  objection  to  any  of  them.  You 
would  oven  be  delighted  to  "abound"  in  them  all, 
if  they  would  only  come  and  abide,  of  their  own 
arrord.  For,  you  see  no  beauty  in  impatience,  no 
attraction  in  anger,  no  loveliness  in  caprice  or 
peevishness,  and  no  benefit  in  your  besetting  sin. 
Vou  would  be  very  glad,  if  all  that  is  wrong  in 
your  temper  and  conduct  would  go  away  at  once 
and  for  ever. 

Thus  we  begin  to  get  at  the  secret,  of  our  re- 
luctance to  some  duties,  and  of  our  failure  in  some 
graces  :  they  require  more  diligence  than  we  like 
lo  bestow  upon  them.  If  the  fruits  of  the  spirit 
would  only  grow  and  ripen  as  easily  as  the  weeds 
of  nature  spring  up  and  prevail,  we  should  bo  quite 
pleased  to  bear  a  plentiful  harvest  of  good  fruit  to 
the  glory  of  (Jod:  but,  finding  that  they  are  nei- 
ther of  spontaneous  growth,  nor  of  independent 
vitality:  and  that  wo  nmst  ''sow  unto  the  spirit," 
if  wo  would  reap  of  the  spirit,  we  yield  to  sloth,  or 
invent  excuses  for  barrenness. 

Here,  then,  is  the  point  at  which  you  must  make 
a  deliberate  and  solemn  stand  for  your  own  safe- 
ty, by  giving  all  diligence  to  add  to  your  faith,  that 
virtue  of  character,  or  that  grace  of  temper,  which 


you  lack  most.  You  know  well  what  it  is.  You 
have  found  by  experience  that  it  does  not  come  of 
itself.  You  feel  that  the  absence  of  it,  throws 
doubt  and  darkness  upon  both  your  calling  and 
election.  You  see  how  its  continued  absence 
must  continue  your  suspense,  and  embitter,  if  not 
utterly  darken,  your  dying  moments.  Will  you 
not  then  make  a  determined  stand,  in  order  to  add 
that  to  your  faith,  the  want  of  which,  not  only 
weakens  your  faith,  but  also  keeps  you  in  doubt 
of  its  sincerity  ?  O,  leave  it  to  the  blind  and  the 
base  to  juggle  on  this  matter,  with  the  dice-box  of 
presumtive  election.  You  are  not  "  siu-e"  of  your 
election  of  God,  and  never  can  be,  whilst  you 
make  no  resolute  effort  to  crucify  your  besetting 
sin,  or  take  no  pains  to  acquire  the  fruits  of  the 
spirit,  which  you  lack  most. 

Do  consider  also,  that  it  is  really  mucli  easier 
to  excel  in  the  very  thing  you  fail  in  most,  than  it 
is  to  repair,  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath,  the  injury 
which  that  failure  is  for  ever  infhcting  upon  what  is 
good  about  your  character  and  spirit.  Wliy  ;  one 
half  of  the  time,  thought,  and  prayer  which  you  must 
give,  in  order  to  get  over  the  doubts  and  distress 
created  by  your  besetting  sin,  would  put  an  end 
to  that  sin.  You  do  not  escape  from  care  or  la- 
bor, by  leaving  your  chief  fault  to  go  on  in  its 
own  way.  The  Sacrament  comes  round,  and  then 
you  have  to  meet  all  the  sad  consequences  of  it 
there,  or  to  pray  them  down  by  strong  cries  and 
tears  in  your  closet.  Affliction  comes,  and  then 
you  have  to  suffer  under  the  painful  consciousness 
that  God  is  conttading  with  you  on  account  of 
that  sin.  Darkness  and  depression  come,  and 
then  you  find  that  it  is  the  lieaviest  weight  upon 
your  spirits,  and  the  eclipsing  cloud  upon  your 
prospects.  Thus  you  do  any  thing  but  save  time 
or  escape  labor,  by  allowing  your  chief  defect  to 
prevail  from  year  to  year.  The  running  account 
of  its  consequences  must  be  settled,  whenever  the 
bills  become  heavy ;  and  then  they  are  not  easily 
met,  as  you  well  know,  and  have  often  felt. 

Another  fact  deserves  your  special  attention; 
nothing  vital  or  good  in  your  principles  or  experi- 
ence will  go  wrong,  by  concentrating  and  confin- 
ing your  care,  for  a  time,  to  the  acquirement  of 
the  one  grace  you  lack  most.  No  other  fruit  of 
the  spirit  will  fall  off  from  the  branches  of  your 
profession,  or  cease  to  ripen,  whilst  you  are  giving 
all  your  diligence  to  add  to  them  a  fruit  they  have 
never  borne  yet.  God  will  take  care  that  the 
hope  you  derive  from  the  cross,  and  the  peace  you 
obtain  from  the  promises,  and  the  help  you  get 
from  ordinances,  shall  not  stop  nor  diminish,  whilst 
you  are  giving  all  your  attention  to  set  that  right 
in  your  character,  which  you  know  to  be  wrong, 
and  which  he  has  often  contended  against.  Nay  ; 
he  will  add  to  his  care  of  the  general  interests  of 
your  soul,  whilst  you  are  adding  to  your  faith  that 
Iruit,  the  want  of  which  injures  you,  and  dishonors 
hnn.  Remember ;  you  were  no  loser,  when  you 
began  to  follow  Christ,  by  the  pains  you  took  to 
remedy  what  was  worst  in  your  case  then :  and 
depend  on  it,  you  will  lose  nothing  by  taking  the 
same  course  with  what  is  worse  now.  No  one 
ever  went  back  in  Christian  experience  or  comfort, 
by  a  set  effort  to  get  forward  in  a  neglected  line  of 
Christian  character  or  temper. 

These  considerations  cannot  fail  to  have  much 


THE    MARTHAS. 


31 


weight  with  you.  They  are  too  solemn  to  be  tri- 
fled with,  and  too  just  to  be  disputed.  No  admis- 
sion of  their  truth,  liowever,  will  answer  any  good 
purpose,  unless  they  both  reconcile  and  determine 
you  to  war  and  watch  against  your  besetting  sin. 
Nothing  is  gained  by  this  heart-searching,  yet,  if 
your  heart  still  rise  against  a  diligent  cultivation 
of  that  fruit  of  the  Spirit,  which  you  lack  most. 
You  may  feel  ashamed  ;  you  may  be  very  sorry  ; 
you  may  even  condemn  yourself  very  bitterly  for 
your  past  neglect,  and  earnestly  wish  that  what  is 
wrong  would  "take  wings  and  flee  away:"  but 
all  this  will  not  mend  the  matter.  You  may  try  a 
thousand  plans  to  get  clear  of  it ;  but  it  will  cleave 
to  you,  until  you  are  humble  enough  and  honest 
enough,  to  take  the  Saviour's  plan — "cu^  it  ofi", 
and  cast  it  from  thee."  No  besetting  sin,  no  dar- 
ling idol,  was  ever  overthrown,  until  this  rough 
handling  was  applied  to  it.  "  This  kind  goetJi  not 
out,  but  by  prayer  and  fasting." 

Do  these  remonstrances  soem  to  you  at  all 
legal,  or  too  rigid  !  Would  you  be  more  pleased 
to  be  plied  only  with  motives  drawn  from  the  love 
of  Christ,  and  from  the  hope  of  salvation,  and 
from  the  holy  designs  of  free  grace  !  You  and  I 
too  have  great  need  to  be  very  careful  how  we 
speak  upon  this  subject.  Neither  cutting  off,  nor 
casting  away,  what  is  wrong,  will  be  of  any  sav- 
ing benefit,  if  not  influenced  by  these  saving  truths. 
Indeed,  the  crucifi.\ion  of  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  or 
of  the  mind,  will  not  be  willingly  attempted  nor 
long  continued  by  any  one,  who  is  not  glorying 
only  in  the  cross  of  Christ.  But  then — if  our 
glorying  in  the  cross  alone  has  not  crucified  us  to 
the  world  in  certain  things,  which  we  know  to  be 
wrong,  how  are  we  to  get  rid  of  them  ]  Are  tliey 
to  be  left  standing  out  against  law  and  conscience, 
because  they  do  not  yield  to  love  or  hope  7  May  a 
bad  temper  or  habit  safely  remain  unsanctified, 
because  a  good  hope  through  grace  has  not  con- 
quered it  ?  True  ;  nothing  but  more  grace  will 
ever  conquer  it  effectually ;  but,  letting  it  alone  in 
the  meantime,  is  certainly  not  the  way  of  obtain- 
ing more  grace.  God  "  giveth  grace  to  the  hum- 
ble," and  she  is  not  very  humble,  who  will  not 
employ  fears  as  well  as  hopes,  and  threatenings  as 
well  as  promises,  in  order  to  promote  her  santifi- 
cation. 

But  do  not  take  my  opinion  on  this  subject. 
Look  again  at  Peter's  argument.  He  gives  the 
first  place  to  the  holy  influence  of  the  promises, 
upon  the  sanctification  of  believers.  "  Whereby 
are  given  unto  us  exceeding  great  and  precious 
promises — that  by  these  ye  might  be  partakers  of 
the  Divine  nature."  Tiius  the  apostle  had  no 
idea  of  any  real  sanctification,  apart  from  the 
sweet  influence  of  the  sweetest  consolations.  But 
then,  he  immediately  says,  "  seside  this,  give  all 
diligence  to  add  to  your  faith,  virtue,"  &lc.  &c. 
Thus  there  are  things  to  do,  as  well  as  promises 
to  believe,  in  order  to  the  acquirement  of  a  holy 
character.  He  even  warns  as  well  as  woos  be- 
lievers to  give  all  diligence. 

How  finely  this  agrees  with  both  the  letter  and 
the  spirit  of  the  Saviour's  coimsels  to  his  disciples. 
He  warned  them  not  only  by  the  fear  of  falling, 
but  also  by  the  fear  of  hell-fire.  Even  in  his 
great  intercessory  prayer  for  their  sanctification, 
he  did  not  say,  "  Sanctify  them  bv  thv  oromises ;" 


nor  did  he  say,  "  Sanctify  them  by  thy  threaten- 
ings ;"  but  "  by  thy  truth  :  thy  word  is  truth." 
Thus  all  truth,  consolatory  and  conservative, 
cheering  and  checking,  belongs  to  the  means  of 
sanctification.  Accordingly,  the  great  promise  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  as  the  Sanctifier,  is,  "  he  shall  lead 
you  into  all  truth." 

There  is  still  another  preservative  against  fall- 
ing, which  I  must  bring  under  your  notice,  and 
which  you  must  lay  to  heart,  if  you  would  not  fall. 
It  is  just  as  necessary  that  you  should  "  take  mite 
you  the  whole  armor  of  God,  that  you  may  be 
able  to  stand,"  as  that  you  should  add  to  your  faith, 
the  virtues  and  graces  we  have  been  contemplat- 
ing. "  For,"  as  Sheshbazzar  would  have  said, 
"  fruit  trees  must  be  protected,  as  well  as  cultivat- 
ed. No  wonder  if  a  lower  is  wanted  in  a  vine- 
yard, seeing  a  lodge  is  needed  even  in  a  '  garden 
of  cucumbers.' " 

Now,  however  different  our  times  and  circum- 
stances may  be  from  those  of  tlie  first  Christians, 
tliey  are  not  so  different  as  to  cliange  the  charac- 
ter or  the  spirit  of  personal  piety.  Neither  the 
work  nor  the  warfare  of  Faith  ended,  when  Faith 
iiad  no  longer  to  "stop  the  mouths  of  lions"  in  the 
amphitheatre,  nor  to  "  quench  the  violence  of  fire" 
at  the  stake,  nor  to  hide  from  the  edge  of  the 
sword  in  "  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth."  Piety 
did  not  cease  to  have  enemies  in  the  world,  when 
the  lions  of  persecution  died  :  nor  to  have  intimi- 
dations, when  the  fires  of  martyrdom  were  extin- 
guished ;  nor  to  have  hinderances,  when  the  ob- 
scurity of  the  wilderness  was  exchanged  for  the 
publicity  of  the  city,  and  the  fellowship  of  man- 
kind. That  was,  indeed,  a  great  change  of  cir- 
cumstances, for  which  we  cannot  be  too  mindful 
and  thankful.  The  lines  have  fallen  unto  us  in 
pleasant  places.  We  have  "  a  goodly  heritage," 
compared  with  that  of  the  first  followers  of  the 
Lamb.  They  had  to  follow  him  in  "a  howling 
wilderness,"  through  fire  and  water.  Compared 
to  this,  our  lot  is  in  a  garden  of  Eden,  where  we 
can  sit  or  vvallc  with  equal  safety  under  our  own 
vine  and  fig-tree  ;  none  daring  to  make  us  afraid. 
But  still,  if  there  be  nothing  in  our  national  Para- 
dise to  hurt  or  destroy  the  body,  there  is  much  to 
peril  the  soul.  There  is  both  forbidden  fruit  and 
a  tempting  serpent  in  our  Eden.  And,  alas,  more 
disciples  are  drawn  away  from  Christ  now,  by  the 
pleasures  and  profits  of  the  world,  than  seem  to 
liave  been  driven  away  from  him  then  by  perse- 
cution. More  "fall  from  their  steadfastness"  in 
this  time  of  peace,  than  in  that  time  of  war. 

Why  is  this  ]  Many  reasons  could,  no  doubt, 
be  assigned  for  the  melancholy  fact.  The  chief 
reason,  however,  is,  tliat  so  many  have  either  no 
deep  fear  of  falling,  or  no  adequate  sense  of  what 
is  necessary  in  order  to  enable  them  to  stand. 
Thev  do  not  exactly  care  but  little  whether  they 
stand  or  fall.  They  are  neither  reckless,  nor  alto- 
gether heedless,  of  consequences.  It  is  their 
wish,  "to  stand  against  the  wiles  of  the  devil," 
and  to  "  withstand  in  the  evil  day"  of  trial  and 
temptation.  They  even  hope  to  do  so.  And  they 
are  so  conscious  of  meaning  well,  that  they  almost 
think  ill  of  any  one  who  is  afraid  lest  they  faff. 
"  Fall,  indeed  !  Why  should  they  be  suspected 
of  treachery  or  unsteadiness  .'  Did  they  not  give 
good  evidence,  at  their  outset  in  the  ways  of  God, 


THE    MARTHAS. 


3-J . 

that  thev  were  savingly  converted  ?  Did  not  ex- 
penenced  and  judicious  Christians  assure  them 
{hen.  that  a  work  ol  grace  was  begun  m  their 
Boule,  and  would  be  carried  on  by  the  Holy  bpint 
unto  the  day  of  complete  redemption  1  And, 
have  Uiey  not  kept  their  name  and  their  place  m 
the  church,  ever  since,  quite  as  well  as  the  gene- 
rality '  Fall,  ijideed  !  Let  hrni  that  tlunkelii  he 
standeth  better  Uian  they  do,  take  heed  lest  he 
M." 

This  is  a  wrong  spirit  certainly :  and  yet,  1 
must  confess,  that  the  way  in  which  some  warn 
others  against  falling,  is  almost  enough  to  provoke 
such  a  retort.  There  are  monitors  who  seem  as 
if  they  would  not  be  much  surprised,  nor  even 
very  iorry,  if  we  did  fall  away.  There  are  re- 
provcrs  who  betray  a  mean  suspicion  of  our  sin- 
eerily,  as  well  as  a  proper  sense  of  our  defects. 
There  are  also  counsellors,  who,  although  they  do 
not  utter  warnings  in  a  spirit  of  pique  or  suspicion,  [ 
are  yet  too  caustic,  or  utter  nothing  but  warnings,  i 
They  caution  others,  as  if  grace  were  no  great  j 
Bccurity  against  falling,  even  w  hilst  it  lasts  ;  and 
even  as  if  it  might  be  all  lost  at  any  moment. 

If  Job's  friends  were  "miserable  comforters," 
^uch  {)crsons  are  miserable  guides ;  and  almost  as 
dangerous  as  those  who  prophesy  only  "smooth 
things."  It  i.",  poriiaps,  difficult  to  say,  whether 
those  whoproplif'f^y  harsh  things  only,  or  those  who 
prophesy  smooth  things  only,  are  most  dangerous. 
One  thing  is  certain — they  are  both  very  unlike 
Christ,  and  both  ignorant,  alike,  of  the  human 
heart.  That,  can  neither  be  led  on  in  holiness  by 
fear  only,  nor  kept  from  going  back  by  hope  only. 
Accordingly,  those  converts  who  are  kept  in  per- 
petual dread  of  falling,  obey  without  pleasure  ;  and 
tho^e  who  arc  Uuglit  that  they  cannot  fall,  disobey 
without  much  ceremony  or  compunction. 

How  do  you  feel  on  this  subject  ?  Whether  do 
you  take  for  granted  that  you  shall  not  fall,  or  take 
measuieH  to  enable  you  to  stand  .'  On  what  secu- 
rity against  falling  away,  do  you  lay  hold  oftenest 
and  lean  most .'  iVot,  1  hope  ; — not,  I  pray  ! — on 
the  absiract  theory  of  final  perseverance.  Fall- 
ing is  begun,  whenever  a  man  or  a  woman,  in- 
stead of  persevering  in  prayer  and  watchfulness, 
presumes  on  safety  without  them.  And  when 
any  one  comes  to  argue  his  case  thus, — "  If  I  am 
decreed  to  be  Ra\ed,  I  cannot  be  lost,  whatever  I 
neglect ;"  instead  of  praying  over  his  case  thus, 
— "  Hold  thou  iiie  up,  and  1  shall  be  safe  ;"  he  is 
fallen  far,  both  from  the  doctrines  and  spirit  of 
grace.  He  lia.s  then  given  up  known  Truth,  for 
unknuwH  Decrees.  Yea,  he  has  cease<l  to  consult 
God  ;  and  iiegun,  if  not  e.vactly  to  defy  him,  to 
alter  his  decrees,  yet  to  tell  liim  that,  if  there  be 
a  decree,  he  cannot  alter  it. 

The  cool  eirrontery  of  this  calculation  is  horri- 
ble, just  because  it  is  so  cool  !  It  makes  ;.  sup. 
vf.sai  decree  of  the  eternal  mind  suppress  all  the 
holy  principles  and  f<;ulings  of  the  eternal  miiul. 
It  eelM  against  all  the  presrnl  will  of  God,  the 
presumption  that  there  has  been  a  past  act  of  the 
Divine  will,  wliirli  he  is  bound  to  abide  by,  what- 
ever be  the  coiKSuquences  to  his  law  or  his  grace. 
The  fatalism  of  the  Mohamincdans  is  nothintr  to 
this  ! 

Vou  arc  shocked  at  it.  Well  you  may.  Let 
It  teach  you,  that  the  heart  can  be  "desperately 


wicked,"  as  weU  as  "deceitful  above  all  thmgs." 
And,  do  not  imagine,  that  nothing  but  gross  sms 
can  produce  this  fool-hardiness.  It  springs  often- 
er  from  losing  the  power  of  godliness,  than  trom 
the  loss  of  moral  character.  This  dreadful  game 
of  hazard  is  more  played  at,  by  those  who  become 
lax  in  reli'Tious  duty,  than  by  those  who  are  loose 
in  morals.  It  is  the  slothful,  not  the  sensual ;  tho 
worldly,  not  the  vicious,  who  try  most  to  find  out 
"  byeways"  to  heaven.  The  sensual  do,  indeed, 
presume  ;  but  it  is  not  upon  past  decrees  being  in 
their  favor ;  but  upon  future  displays  of  mercy, 
coming  in  time  enough  to  save  them.  It  is  the 
slothful  who  try  to  believe,  that  there  may  be 
some  eternal  purpose,  which  will  prevent  them 
from  being  lost.  This  is  sad  work  !  And,  ob- 
serve, how  extremes  meet  in  it :  both  classes  are 
equally  afraid  of  the  present  will  of  God.  Neither 
can  hope  in  him,  just  as  he  is  Rud  feels  at  the  mo- 
ment. Both  see  that  his  immediate  feelings  must 
be  against  their  conduct;  and,  therefore,  the  one 
class  throw  themselves  upon  the  chance  of  former 
purposes,  and  the  other  upon  the  chance  of  future 
good-will. 

You  have  not  "so  learned  Christ!"  When 
you  repeat  to  yourself  his  promise  ;  "  I  give  unto 
my  sheep  eternal  hfe,  and  they  shall  never  perish," 
you  also  remember  his  description  of  their  cha- 
racter,—  "My  sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  follow  me, 
and  a  stranger  will  they  not  follow."  Thus  it  is 
only  the  followers  of  Christ,  who  cannot  be  pluck- 
ed out  of  his  hands,  nor  out  of  tho  hands  of  the 
Father.  Accordingly,  you  see  and  feel  that,  were 
you  to  turn  back,  or  to  give  up  following  the  Sa- 
viour, you  could  have  no  more  hold  upon  the  pow- 
er which  keeps  his  flock  "  unto  salvation,"  than 
they  have  who  never  professed  or  wished  to  be 
his  sheep.     This  is  well  so  far,  becau.Le  it  is  wise. 

In  what  way,  however,  do  you  calculate  upon 
Divine  power  keeping  you  from  falling  away  from 
Christ,  and  thus  keeping  you  from  falling  short  of 
heaven  1  How  do  you  expect  this  keeping  power 
to  act  for  your  safety  1  How  do  you  draw  upon  it 
for  strength,  to  stand  before  trials  and  temptations  ? 
I  multiply  these  questions,  because  that  power 
acts  by  rule  in  preserving  both  the  sheep  and  the 
lambs  of  Christ  from  apostacy,  and  thus  from 
perishing.  It  keeps  them  "  through  faith  unto 
salvation  ;"  and  not  in  spite  of  unbelief.  It  is 
not  only  "  able  to  keep  them  from  falling;"  but  it 
docs  so,  by  making  them  "able  to  stand."  Its 
ability  works  by  enabling  them  to  be  faithful  unto 
death.  The  law  of  preserving  power  runs  thus, 
— "  Work  out  your  own  salvation  ;  for  it  is  God 
who  worketh  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his 
good  pleasure." 

Those  distinctions  are  neither  too  nice,  nor  too 
numerous.  God  has  made  them  ;  and,  therefore, 
you  are  bound  to  mark  them.  You  have  no  right 
to  turn  away  from  them  peevishly  or  impatiently, 
saying,  "  I  can  stand  well  enough  without  so  much 
attention  to  rules,  or  to  the  relation  of  doctrines. 
I  do  not  want  to  be  a  theologian  !"  Well ;  most 
certainly  I  do  not  wish  to  make  you  one.  You 
want,  however,  to  be  kept  from  falling  ;  and  that, 
you  cannot  be,  but  by  being  enabled  to  stand  ;  and 
that  you  will  not  be  by  God,  but  in  his  own  way  of 
exercising  keeping  power.  Y'ou  are  not,  there- 
fore, so  intent  upon  standing,  nor  so  afraid  of  fall- 


THE    MARTHAS. 


33 


ing,  as  you  give  yourself  credit  for,  if  you  give 
yourself  no  trouble  about  the  way  in  vvliicli  God 
keeps  his  children,  through  faith  unto  salvation. 
He  says  to  them  all,  more  than  that  he  is  ahk 
to  keep  them  from  falling ;  more  than  that  "  he 
is  faithful,  and  will  do  it."  He  commands  them 
all  thus  :  "  Take  unto  you  the  whole  armor  of 
God,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  stand."  Yes ;  this 
is  necessary,  if  you  would  wrestle  successfully, 
either  with  flesh  and  blood,  or  with  the  powers  of 
darkness.  Satan  will  put  on  the  whole  armor  of  his 
power  against  you  ;  and  the  world  will  put  on  the 
whole  armor  of  its  snares  against  you  :  and  your 
old  nature  will  put  on  the  whole  armor  of  its  de- 
pravity against  you  :  how  then  can  you  stand  in 
the  evil  day  of  their  joint  or  single  assault,  if  you  do 
not  "put  on  the  whole  armor  of  God]"  Eph.  vi.  10. 

Did  this  sacred  oracle  ever  strike  you  before  ? 
It  contains  the  whole  history  and  mystery  of  that 
familiar  maxim,  "  Ye  stand  by  faith  ;"  and  of  that 
familiar  warning,  "  Take  heed  lest  you  fall."  In- 
deed, you  cannot  obey  the  one  nor  the  other,  as 
God  enjoins  them,  without  taking  unto  you  the 
whole  armor  of  God. 

"But  that  armor  is  so  much  !"  you  will  say. 
True  ;  but  it  is  not  more  than  your  temptations 
and  tendencies  to  fall.  There  are,  indeed,  six 
parts  of  it ; — the  girdle  of  truth — the  breastplate 
of  righteousness — the  greaves  of  peace — the 
shield  of  faith — the  helmet  of  salvation — the  sword 
of  the  spirit — besides  all  prayer  and  watchfulness 
—but,  which  of  them  could  you  do  without]  Which 
of  them  could  you  wield  or  wear  effectually  with- 
out the  others  ] 

Look  twice  at  this  question,  before  you  attempt 
to  answer  it.  Without  the  girdle  of  truth,  you 
may  fall  into  error.  Without  the  breastplate  of 
righteousness,  you  may  fall  into  legality.  With- 
out the  shoes  of  the  gospel  of  peace,  you  may  fall 
into  despondency.  Without  the  shield  of  faitji, 
you  may  fall  into  apostacy.  Without  the  helmet 
of  salvation,  you  may  fall  into  despair.  Without 
the  sword  of  the  spirit,  you  may  fall  into  cowardice. 
And  without  prayer  and  watching,  you  may  fall 
into  any  thing,  however  bad  or  dangerous.  Tlius, 
if  you  will  number  up  the  ways  in  which  others 
have  fallen,  or  even  the  dangers  to  which  you 
yourself  are  exposed,  you  will  not  say  again,  that 
'nhe  whole  armor  of  God"  is  too  much  or  too 
varied. 

Nor  is  it  cumbersome,  even  as  a  whole.  It  may 
seem  so  at  first  sight,  because  it  seems  something 
additional,  if  not  different,  to  the  means  by  which 
you  have  been  able  to  stand  hitherto.  But  this  is 
in  appearance  only.  You  have  had  it  all  on  be- 
fore  now  ;  and  you  never  found  the  service  of  God 
so  easy,  nor  the  salvation  of  God  so  sweet,  as 
when  you  were  clothed  with  the  whole  armor  of 
God.  I  mean,  that  there  have  been  times  when 
you  have  believed,  and  hoped,  and  prayed,  and 
watched,  and  warred,  and  worked  with  all  your 
heart ;  tlms  doing  all  you  could,  to  stand.  Now 
although  you  did  not  call  this  care,  "  putting  on 
the  whole  armor  of  God,"  it  really  was  so :  and, 
accordingly,  you  stood  by  doing  so.  For,  where, 
what,  had  you  been,  at  the  close  of  some  evil  days 
of  temptation,  if  you  had  not  made  an  effort  to  re- 
sist Satan,  and  to  renounce  the  world,  and  to  deny 
yourself]  You,  of  course,  think  more  of  the  grace 
64  (15) 


which  enabled  you  to  make  that  timely  and  ne- 
cessary stand,  than  of  the  stand  itself.  And  so 
do  I.  But  still,  it  is  the  stand,  which  shows  liow 
"  grace  helps  in  time  of  need."  What  it  enables 
us  to  do  and  endure,  is  the  measure  of  what  it 
does  for  us,  and  the  mode  in  which  it  helps  our 
infirmities. 

Do  not  tire  of  this  formal  advice.  I  would  have 
you  "  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  power  of  his 
might;"  and,  therefore,  I  urge  upon  you,  to  "take 
unto  you  the  whole  armor  of  God,  that  ye  may 
be  able  to  stand  ;"  and  tell  you,  at  the  same  time, 
that  this  means  no  more  than  you  ought  to  mean, 
when  you  say,  that  your  own  strength  is  insuffi- 
cient, and  grace  essential,  in  order  to  your  stand- 
ing. I  will  go  further  and  say,  that  the  advice 
given  in  this  oracle  is  just  as  kind  and  cheering, 
as  when  God  says  in  another  of  his  oracles, 
"  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people."  This  is, 
indeed,  what  he  says  to  them  when  their  "  warfare 
is  accomplished;"  and  the  other  what  he  says 
whilst  the  warfare  is  going  on ;  but  both  are  in 
the  same  spirit,  and  equal  proofs  of  his  attention 
to  all  who  are  engaged  in  the  Christian  warfare  ! 
He  arms  the  warrior,  as  well  as  crowns  the  con- 
queror ;  and  gives  grace  as  willingly,  as  he  will 
give  glory  cheerfully. 

Look  again  at  the  whole  armor  of  God,  in 
proof  of  this.  Why  ;  every  part  of  it  proclaims 
as  much  fence  to  you,  as  it  proclaims  war  against 
sin  and  Satan.  If  you  must  wear  a  helmet,  it  is 
"  the  hope  of  salvation,"  not  the  fear  of  perishing. 
If  you  must  wield  a  sword,  it  is  "the  sword  of  the 
spirit,"  which  is  the  word  of  God ;  and  by  that, 
Christ  vanquished  Satan  in  the  wilderness.  If 
you  must  employ  a  shield,  it  is  the  faith  of  the 
glorious  gospel,  not  the  buckler  of  fasts,  penances, 
sackcloth,  or  celibacy.  The  righteousness  which 
you  are  bound  to  put  on  as  a  breastplate,  is  what 
you  wish  to  be  found  clothed  in,  as  a  robe,  on  the 
last  day.  And  what  is  prayer,  but  access  to  God 
as  your  father  ]  Yea,  what  is  watching,  but  taking 
care  of  the  hope,  and  the  peace,  and  the  joy  of 
salvation  ] 

Thus,  doing  "all  to  stand,"  is  far  more  than 
duty.  To  stand  firm,  is,  to  stand  safe ;  to  stand 
composed  ;  to  stand  prepared  for  the  issues  of  life 
or  death.  Sheshbazzar  would  have  said,  "  it  is  to 
stand  as  the  mountains  around  Jerusalem,  or  as 
the  cherubim  on  the  mercy-seat ;  where  the  eye 
of  Omniscience  watches,  and  the  arm  of  Omnipo- 
tence guards." 

Take  another  view  of  these  preservatives 
against  falling.  You  want  and  wish  for  the  whole 
guardianship  of  God  on  earth.  I  mean  you  would 
not  be  satisfied  with  less,  than  being  "  kept  by  his 
power  through  faith  unto  salvation."  Such  a 
keeping  from  the  evil  of  the  world,  as  would  not 
keep  you  from  being  condemned  with  the  world, 
would  not  please  you.  No  wonder  !  Should  not 
God,  then,  be  pleased  as  well  as  you  ]  Ought  he 
not  to  have  his  own  way,  if  you  wish  him  to  save 
you  with  an  everlasting  salvation  ]  You  need  the 
whole  of  his  grace,  and  wish  for  the  whole  of  hia 
glory ;  and,  will  you  refuse  to  take  the  whole  ar- 
mor of  God,  in  order  to  secure  all  this  to  your- 
self] 

You  feel  this  appeal !  Do  then  take  that  ar- 
mor, and  take  it  unto  yourself,  and  "  put  it  on." 


M 


THE    MARTHAS. 


What  IS  the  UFc  of  merely  knowing,  that  there  is 
a  brt-a^tplate,  a  helmet,  a  .-word,  and  a  shield,  by 
which  a  Christian  iiiav  be  able  to  standi  What 
IS  the  use  of  complimenting  their  power  as  great, 
or  tlieir  polish  as  splendid,  or  their  device  as  beau- 
tiful !  If  you  need  them,  take  them ;  if  you  ad- 
mire them,'  ytU  them  on.  They  are  not  like  the 
annor  in  the  TowEn  of  London,  hung  up  to  be 
gazed  at,  or  to  remind  us  of  the  good  soldiers 
which  Christ  had  m  former  times.  He  wants 
good  soldiers  still;  and,  as  formerly,  "women" 
amongst  them,  who  will  not  accept "  deliverance" 
from  the  cruel  mockingsof  the  world,  nor  from  the 
scourges  of  Satan  at  the  expense  of  a  good  con- 
science. 


No.  V. 

VARIETIES,    FROM   MISTRUST. 

Is  it  your  desire  to  glorify  God  ?  You  know  and 
confess  that  it  is  your  duty.  There  arc  also  some 
ways  of  glorifying  God  on  earth,  which  you  would 
be  glad  to  try,  if  you  had  the  means.  Were  you 
wealthy  enough  to  found  a  mission  in  China, where 
the  gospel  was  never  fully  preached ;  or  in  Asia, 
where  its  golden  candlestick  has  long  been  ex- 
tinguished ;  or  in  the  yet  unvisited  wilds  and 
islands  of  Africa  and  the  Pacific  ;  would  not  you 
help  to  fill  the  earth  with  the  glory  of  God!  Were 
you  even  wealthy  enough  to  relieve  (without  in- 
jury to  yourself)  all  the  real  poverty  in  your  neigh- 
borhood, and  thus  to  bring  all  the  poor  under  tlio 
gospel,  would  you  not  count  that  way  of  glorifying 
God  to  lie  both  duty  and  jileasure  ?  Or,  could 
you  write  a  bofjk  in  favor  of  the  gospel,  which 
would  command  as  much  attention,  and  take  as 
strong  a  hold  upon  the  pubhc  mind,  as  the  works 
of  Shakspeare  or  .Milton,would  you  not  feel  bound 
to  trade  with  that  talent  at  once,  and  thus  to  glo- 
rify God  with  your  sjiirit,  by  ])ouring  all  its  intel- 
lectual wealth  and  splendor  around  the  cross '] 
Or,  were  it  only  signified  to  you,  as  to  Peter,  "  by 
what  death  you  should  glorify  God,"  would  you 
not  prepare  lor  that  death  with  much  diligence, 
that  thus  your  triumph  or  tranriuillity  might  illus- 
trate and  commend  the  power  of  faith  ! 

None  of  these  things,  upon  this  scale,  may  ho 
within  your  powr-r.  There  is,  however,  one  way 
of  glorifying  (iod,  which  is  completely  within  yoiir 
reach,  and  would  remain  so,  even  if  you  were  in 
abject  poverty,  or  had  only  a  weak  mind  :  for  God 
condeHcends  to  consider  himself  glorified,  by 
"strong  faith."  We  l.'arn  this  pleasing  fact,  from 
^toryof  Abraham.     "Ho  staggered  not  at 


the  hi: 

the  promise  of  God  through  unbelief;  but  was 

strong  in  faith,  giving  glory  unto  God." 

I'erhaps  you  arc  ready  to  say,—"  I  feel  as  un- 
equal to  e.vercisc  strong  faith,  as  I  am  unable  to 
bestow  much  charity.  There  is  nothing  so  weak 
m  my  piety,  as  my  faith.  I  have,  at  times,  strong 
convictions,  strong  f.>ars,  strong  desires  ;  but  strong 
faith,  I  am  a  stranger  to.  I  can  say  at  any  time, 
with  the  poor  man  in  the  gospels,  "  Lord,  help  thou 
mine  unbelief:"  but  I  cannot  always  preface  this 
prayer  as  he  did,  by  saying,  "  Lord,  I  believe." 
Indeed,  I  hardly  know  what  to  think  of  myself, 


when  I  examine  whether  I  am  in  the  faith.  I 
can  neither  class  myself  with  believers,  nor  with 
unbelievers.  I  have  not  the  real  peace  of  the 
former,  nor  the  false  peace  of  the  latter.  The 
state  of  my  mind  seems  something  helweeii  both. 
Besides,  I  become  fluttered,  and  confused,  and  in- 
timidated, whenever  I  go  far  into  the  question  of 
saving  faith." 

You  are  not  singular  in  all  this.  Many  feel  ex- 
actly  as  you  do  on  this  point.  Indeed,  all  Chris- 
tians,  are,  at  times,  more  or  less  embarrassed  on 
the  subject  of  faith.  In  general,  however,  those 
who  are  most  jealous  and  fearful  of  the  genuine- 
ness of  their  own  faith,  have  least  occasion  to  be 
so.  Perhaps  this  is  the  case  with  you  ]  I  do  not 
throw  out  this  hint,  that  you  may  drop  the  ques- 
tion, nor  that  you  may  take  for  granted  the  reality 
of  your  own  faith  in  Christ ;  but  that  you  may  sit 
down  with  composure  to  examine  "  whether  you 
be  in  the  faith." 

Now  the  weakness  of  your  faith  may,  perhaps, 
arise,  in  part,  from  your  being  somewhat  afraid  of 
strong  faith.  We  are  not  always  thinking  of 
Abraham,  when  we  think  of  the  faith  of  assurance. 
They  are  not  often  very  like  him,  in  character  or 
spirit,  who  say  most  about  their  assurance.  In 
general,  those  who  are  most  like  him  in  humility 
and  hohness,  say  least  about  their  own  faith  ;  and 
even  the  little  they  do  say,  is  uttered  in  the  spirit 
in  which  Abraham  prayed, — "  Let  not  the  Lord 
be  angry,  and  I  will  speak."  Thus,  between  the 
"  much  speaking"  of  those  who  are  least  humble, 
and  the  almost  silence  of  those  who  are  most 
humble,  we  are  in  no  small  danger  of  becoming 
rather  suspicious  of  the  tendency  of  strong  faith 
itself.  Whilst  we  look  at  it,  and  judge  of  it,  in 
Abraham  or  in  Paul, or  in  the  death-song  of  "such 
an  one  as  Paul  the  aged,"  we  feel  no  more  doubt 
of  its  holy  tendency,  than  of  its  happy  influence. 
In  the  presence  of  such  examples,  we  catch  our- 
selves exclaiming, 

"  O  for  a  strong,  a  lasting  faith, 
To  credit  what  th'  Almighty  saith; 
To  trust  the  merits  of  His  Son, 
And  call  the  joys  of  heaven  my  own." 

Not  thus,  however,  do  we  judge  or  feel,  when 
professors,  remarkable  for  nothing  but  talking 
about  their  experience,  speak  of  their  assurance, 
and  security,  and  cloudless  hopes.  Their  strong 
faith  seems  very  much  akin  to  presumption.  We 
cannot  help  feeling  as  if  it  were  both  better  and 
safer,  to  be  weak  in  faith,  than  to  be  strong  in  their 
way  of  believing.  Besides,  it  is  a  very  general 
persuasion  amongst  those  whose  piety  is  most  ex- 
emplary, that  the  faith  of  assurance  is  sail,  which 
very  few  have  ballast  enough  to  carry,  or  prudence 
to  manage  well. 

Now,  I  readily  grant  that  these  are  facts  which 
ought  not  to  be  overlooked,  nor  allowed  to  have 
l)\tt  little  weight  on  this  subject.  Caution  is,  in- 
deed, poculiariy  becoming  on  such  a  point  as  sav- 
mg  faith.  Yea,  it  is  necessary:  for  there  are 
presumers  in  the  church,  as  surely  as  there  are 
sceptics  in  the  world.  But  after  honestly  weigh- 
ing all  these  facts,  I  cannot  forget  that  God  and 
I  the  Lamb  deserve  strong  faith.     I  frankly  confess 


THE    MARTHAS. 


35 


that  I  cannot  answer  the  question, — Why  should 
I  have  less  faith  in  God  than  Abraham  had  1  The 
God  of  Abraham  is  not  changed  in  truth  or  love. 
What  he  promises  in  answer  to  prayer,  under  the 
gospel,  is  not  less  free  or  faithful  than  what  he 
promised  under  tiie  Abrahaniic  covenant.  God  is 
not  a  man  that  he  should  lie ;  nor  the  son  of  man, 
that  he  should  repent.  He  proved  this  by  fulfil- 
ling the  great  promise  of  that  covenant.  At  the 
fulness  of  time,  he  sent  forth  his  Son  to  redeem 
the  world  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  by  becoming 
a  curse  for  tliem.  We  ought  not,  therefore,  to  be 
very  slow  of  heart  in  believing,  that  lie  that  spar- 
ed not  his  own  Son,  but  "gave  him  up  to  the  death 
for  us  all,"  will  also,  "with  him,  fi-eely  give  us  ah 
things."  This  would,  indeed,  be  believing  a  great 
deal :  but  still,  not  more  than  God  has  promised ; 
not  more  than  God  is  able  to  perform  ;  not  more 
than  he  has  actually  performed  to  millions  and 
myriads,  who  were  as  guilty  and  unworthy  as  we 
can  be. 

I  must,  therefore,  press  and  ply  you  with  the 
question.  Do  not  God  and  the  Lamb  deserve  strong 
faith  from  you  1  Can  you  assign  any  reason,  why 
you  should  stagger  at  their  promise,  through  un- 
belief, or  fear,  or  suspicion  1  You  certainly  can- 
not assign  nor  conceive  one  reason  for  doubt,  if 
God  and  the  Lamb  allow  sinners  to  put  as  much 
faith  in  their  promises  now,  as  they  allowed  Abra- 
ham to  put ;  and  that,  they  do  both  warrant  and 
command  !  God  does  not,  indeed,  speak  so  openly 
to  us  as  he  did  to  Abraham  ;  but  he  speaks  as 
honestly,  and  even  more  explicitly.  He  does  not 
call  us  by  name,  nor  with  an  audible  voice  from 
heaven ;  but  he  does  better :  he  puts  into  our 
hands  the  written  copy  of  the  everlasting  cove- 
nant, ratified  by  his  own  oath  and  the  blood  of  his 
Son,  pledging  all  the  eternal  honor  of  the  God- 
head, that  whosoever  believeth  in  Christ  shall  not 
perish. 

Now,  really  this  strong  assurance  from  the  lips 
of  God,  deserves  strong  faith.  For,  what  could 
he  say  or  do  more,  in  order  to  warrant  implicit 
and  imperishable  faith  in  his  promises '.'  We  really 
ought  to  be  ashamed,  yea  shocked,  at  the  bare 
idea  of  placing  but  little  faith  in  them,  seeing  they 
are  so  great,  so  precious,  and  so  true.  Why;  if 
you  cannot  trust  them,  what  could  you  trust? — 
What  could  be  so  satisfactory  as  the  assurance, 
that  "it  is  impossible  for  God  to  lie?"  This  fact, 
all  history,  all  experience,  all  the  universe  rise  up 
to  attest  and  confirm.  Neither  voice  nor  vision 
from  heaven,  could  amount  to  so  much  encourage- 
ment as  this  one  fact.  I  must,  therefore,  repeat, 
that  strong  promises  from  the  God  of  truth  and 
love,  deserve  strong  faith  ;  nor  can  we  have  any 
good  reason  for  withholding  it  from  them. 

I  know  quite  well  what  you  are  now  thinking 
about.  You  have  been  ready  to  say  agam  and 
again,  whilst  reading  this  essay, — "  But  how  can  j 
I  be  sure  that  the  promises  are  meant  for  me]  I 
They  are  the  children's  bread  ;  and  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  am  a  child  of  God.  They  belong  to  the 
penitent,  the  humble,  the  hungering  and  tliirsting  | 
ai'ter  righteousness ;  and  I  am  afraid  to  class  my-  j 
self  amongst  them.  Besides,  I  find  no  difficulty 
in  believing  firmly  the  truth  of  the  promises  them-  j 
selves,  or  their  faithfulness  in  the  case  of  others :  ' 


my  difficulty  is,  to  believe  them  in  my  own  case. 
It  is  there,  that  my  faith  staggers." 

Yes  ;  and  well  it  may  stagger,  if  you  thus  want 
to  be  sure  of  your  calling  and  election,  before  you 
venture  to  believe  the  glad  tidings  of  the  gospel. 
You  are,  indeed,  perfectly  right  in  your  opinion 
that,  in  general,  the  promises  belong  to  specific 
characters,  and  are  adapted  and  addressed  to  cer- 
tain spiritual  states  of  mind.  Of  this  fact,  you 
ought  never  to  lose  sight.  Whoever  regards  al 
the  promises  as  made  to  mankind  promiscuously, 
understands  neither  their  excellency  nor  their  de- 
sign. The  greater  part  of  them  are,  emphatically 
and  exclusively,  "the  children's  bread."  There 
are,  however,  many  of  them  (and  these  neither 
weak  nor  equivocal)  the  only  and  express  object 
of  which  is,  to  multiply  the  children  of  God,  or  to 
win  sinners  to  become  the  sons  and  daughters  of 
the  Lord  Almighty.  Yes  ;  one  class  of  tlie  great 
and  precious  promises  are  entirely  occupied  with 
the  manifestation  of  that  matchless  love  which 
God  bestows,  in  order  that  we  may  be  made  his 
children.  Nor  is  this  all :  the  whole  of  them 
have  it  as  much  for  their  object  to  reconcile  the 
world  unto  God,  as  to  endear  God  to  the  church. 

Consider  this  fact,  and  remember  it.  It  will 
clear  your  way,  mightily  and  rapidly,  to  the  point 
at  which  all  the  promises  can  be  appropriated  and 
enjoyed  by  yourself.  What  you  have  now  to  be- 
heve  with  a  strong  faith,  is  not  your  own  election, 
adoption,  or  conversion.  You  cannot,  and  oughtnot, 
to  believe  these  things  firmly,  untU  you  have  more 
evidence  of  their  truth,  in  your  own  experience. 
Strong  faith  on  these  points,  can  only  be  warrant- 
ed  by  the  fruits  of  faith  in  your  heart  and  hfe.  But 
whilst  this  is  true,  it  is  equally  true,  that  even  now, 
and  as  you  are,  and  however  you  feel,  there  are 
both  great  and  precious  promises  which  you  are 
fully  warranted  to  believe,  with  all  the  faith  of  as- 
surance. The  promise,  "  Seek,  and  ye  shall  find; 
knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened,"  belongs  as  much 
to  you,  and  deserves  your  entire  faith,  as  the  pro- 
mise, "  I  will  never  leave  you  nor  forsake  you," 
belongs  to  the  dearest  children  of  God.  What 
more,  therefore,  would  you  have,  in  order  to  war- 
rant and  welcome  you  to  hope  in  Christ  for  your 
own  salvation  1  God  says,  "  You  shall  find,"  if 
you  seek :  "  it  shall  be  opened,"  if  you  knock. 
Unless,  therefore,  you  want  to  find  without  seek- 
mg,  or  to  be  admitted  into  the  household  of  faith 
without  knoclcing,  your  way  is  as  open  as  promises 
can  make  it. 

If  this  view  of  the  matter  do  not  remove  yoiu- 
difficulty,  you  have,  in  some  way,  mistaken  the 
nature  of  faith  itself,  as  well  as  the  character  of 
strong  faith.  It  may  be,  that  one  cause  of  the 
weakness  of  yoiir  faith,  is,  that  you  tried  at  first, 
to  believe  more  than  was  necessary  at  first ;  and 
thus  by  grasping  at  every  thing  in  the  gospel  at 
once,  you  got  a  firm  hold  upon  nothing.  I  do  not 
throw  out  this  hint  in  the  way  of  reproof  at  all ; 
but  just  to  throw  you  back  upon  first  principles, 
and  in  upon  your  own  recollections.  I  know  too 
well,  (to  wonder  or  blame,)  how  naturally  your 
mind  desired  all  the  comforts  and  securities  of  the 
covenant  of  grace,  when  you  first  saw  all  your 
wants  and  dangers.  You  then  wished  to  be  sure 
of  your  election,  sure  of  your  adoption,  sure  of 
your  pardon,  sure  of  your  acceptance,  sure  of 


THE    MARTHAS. 


r^u-  /  \a  nf  vnnr  narticioation  of  resemblance  to  those  who  are  truly  pious.     Any 
,.„^  -    Chnst,  '^[t^'l^^^l^^^'^^^^^^  we  bear  to  "  the  excellent  of  the  earth," 

,he  Spirit,  and  sure  «'  >^"'^^,^"='^,f^''jS^^^    helps  us  to  liope  that  we  are  not  alto-ether  stran- 
You  saw  your  need  ot  ^U  thi^     and    tliere  o  e  ^       j  i^  ^^_^.^^^  ^^^^^  ^^^^^^  ^^  excellent. 


L-our  uaioH  to 


poughi  for  all  tliis,  and  trie 


d'to  believe  all  tlie  !  gcrs  to  the  grace  which  made 


We  see  and  deplore  the  sad  difference  tiiere  is  be- 


prom.es  .n  which  th.  host  of  sjn^^^^^^^^^  ^.^  ^^^^^^^^^^    ^^^  ^^^^^.^^^^^  ,^^, 

S:  S     You'  w^re'tt'ablerbeCe t  much   discouraged  as  well  as  reproved  by  h,  because  we 


for  yourself!  Can  vou  wonder,  now  that  you 
look'  at  the  ease  in  this  light?  Do  you  not  see, 
that  the  ivfant  hand  of  faith  cannot  grasp  so 
much  at  (jnce  !  Is  it  not  obvious,  that  by  thus 
trying  to  lav  hold  on  every  thing,  it  can  get  no 
sure  iiold  u"pou  any  thing?  Just  suppose,  for  a 
moment,  that,  inste'ad  oftliis,  you  had  set  yourself 
to  believe  nue  point  in  the  gospel,  at  first.  Suppose 
that  point  had  been  the  promise,  that  "  whosoever 
shall  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be 
paved;"  or  the  as:^urance,  that  "the  blood  of 
Je8us  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin."  Either  of 
these  great  truths  is  quite  sufficient  to  give  any 
sinner  a  good  hope  through  grace ;  or  at  least,  to 
create  hope  enough  to  keep  him  praying:  and 
that  (every  Christian  will  tell  you)  is  the  best 
kind  and  degree  of  hope,  eventually.  Now,  do 
you  not  see  how  your  faith,  if  it  iiad  confined  it- 
self at  first  to  the  willingness  of  God  and  the 
power  of  Christ  to  save  you,  might  have  soon  be- 
come strong  faith  ?  Consider:  the  willingness  of 
God,  and  tiie  ability  of  the  Lamb,  are  not  doubt- 
ful nor  dark  truths.  If  any  thing  be  clear  or  sure, 
they  are  unquestionable  and  resplendent  facts. 
Their  strong  evidence  is  calculated  to  produce 
strong  faith.  Tliey  win  the  confidence  they  ask 
for,  when  they  are  duly  weighed.  Well ;  this  is 
the  GOSPEL !  This  is  just  what  a  sinner  should 
believe,  when  seeking  mercy  through  the  blood  of 
atonement.  His  language  sjiould  be,  "God  is 
willing,  and  Chri«t  is  able,  to  save  even  me." 
Why  then  should  not  you  go  back  to  this  point, 
if.  after  all  your  efforts  to  get  higher,  you  are  still 
in  doubt  as  to  the  reality  of  your  faith?  Why  not 
try  for  a  time  what  you  can  make  of  believing 
these  two  truths  ?  Until  you  have  strong  faith  in 
theni,  your  faith  in  every  other  part  of  the  gospel 
must  remain  very  weak. 

What !  is  it  but  weak  here  also  ?  Do  you  not 
believe  thai  God  is  willing  to  save  you !  Do  you 
really  doubt  the  ability  of  Christ  to  dehver  you 
from  the  wrath  to  cmne?  If  so — you  must  be 
very  unhap|)y  whenever  you  think  of  your  own 
case.  I  would  not,  for  worlds,  doubt  either  truth. 
My  heart  would  break,  or  my  reason  expire,  if  1 
Hunpccted  that  God  was  unwilling  or  Christ  unable 
to  save  ii,(>.  Hut,  ;us  they  have  not  .said  so,  1  do 
not  suspect  the  w  dlingness  of  the  Father,  nor  the 
power  of  the  Son.  Why  should  I  suspect  either, 
when  iicilh<-r  forbid  me  to  hope?  Nothing  short 
of  a.  prnhibilioii  to  hope,  could  warrant  despair: 
and  as  there  are  express  commands,  as  well  a.s  be- 
seeching invitations  to  hope  in  Christ,  despair  and 
despondency  umsl  be  as  criminal  as  they  are  unwise. 


No.  VI. 

VABIKTIKS    KROM    MODESTY. 


It  is  both  gratifying  and  encouraging  to  be  able 

to  trace  in  our  own  character  and  spirit,  any  real    grant 


can  hardly  see  how  we  can  ever  come  up  to  their 
standard  :  but  still,  we  cling  to  the  fond  hope,  that 
we  have  something  of  their  spirit,  or  a  spark  of 
the  same  grace.  We  cherish  this  hope  the  more 
freely,  because  our  conscience  bears  us  witness, 
that  we  really  desire  to  be  more  like  the  Chris- 
tians we  admire  most,  and  would  be  very  glad  to 
get  over  that  in  which  we  chiefly  differ  from  them. 

Another  thing  very  encouraging,  is,  that  we 
can  trace  some  resemblance  between  their  early 
experience  and  our  own.  Few  things,  perhaps, 
please  or  surprise  us  more  than  the  discovery, 
that  some  of  the  loveliest  and  most  liappy  Chris- 
tians had  to  struggle  hard,  at  first,  with  many  of 
the  same  doubts,  fears,  and  temptations  which 
now  harass  us.  This,  we  did  not  expect  to  find 
in  the  experience  of  the  very  holy  and  happy. 
We  imagined  that,  from  the  first,  their  conversion 
must  have  been  so  complete,  as  to  place  them 
above  all  such  conflicts  between  the  flesh  and  the 
spirit.  We  took  for  granted,  that  they  had  never 
found  it  difficult  to  believe,  or  to  hope,  or  to  pray. 
This  difficulty  we  thought  peculiar  to  ourselves. 
And,  as  to  treachery  of  heart,  weakness  of  pur- 
pose, changeableness  of  feeling,  and  floods  of  vain 
and  unholy  thoughts,  we  were  almost  sure  that  no 
real  Christian  had  ever  felt  as  we  did.  We  heard, 
of  course,  our  pious  friends  speak  of  their  having 
had  to  go  through  deep  and  dark  waters,  and  to 
sustain  some  heavy  burdens  :  but  we  did  not  allow 
ourselves  to  suspect  that  unbelief,  or  the  preva- 
lence of  a  wrong  spirit,  or  the  pressure  of  temp- 
tation, entered  into  their  trials.  We  thought  that 
they  could  only  mean,  the  trial  of  their  faith  and 
patience,  by  afflictions  or  losses :  not  by  the 
plagues  of  the  heart,  or  by  the  treachery  of  the 
conscience. 

It  was,  therefore,  no  small  help  to  us,  when  we 
found  out  that  "no  strange  thing  had  befallen" 
us,  in  having  to  struggle  so  much  against  fight- 
ings without  and  fears  within.  We  were  not,  of 
course,  glad  that  others  had  hearts  as  bad  as  our 
own,  nor  that  grace  met  with  much  opposition  in 
all  hearts :  but  we  were  glad  to  know  the  fact  it- 
soif.  It  proved  to  us,  that  our  case  was  neither 
desperate  nor  singular:  and  thus  prevented  us 
from  giving  up  all  hope  and  effort,  as  useless  in 
our  own  case.  It  showed  us,  that  the  day  of 
small  things  ought  not  to  be  despised  ;  seeing  it 
had  often  been  followed  by  years  of  great  things 
in  the  experience,  character,  and  career  of  many. 

We  have  then  been  somewhat  encouraged  by 
discovering,  that  the  beginnings  of  our  piety,  had 
parallels  m  the  early  experience  of  the  best.  Did 
it  ever  occur  to  you,  whilst  marking  this  with 
pleasure,  that  just  in  proportion  as  you  arc  of 
"  one  spirit"  with  the  saints  on  eaith,  you  are  of 
"  one  spirit"  with  the  saints  in  heaven  also  ?  If 
you  have  never  followed  out  this  sweet  thought 
for  your  own  encouragement,  it  is  well  worth  your 
while  to  do  so  now.  The  fact  is  fraught  and  fra- 
wilh   strong   consolation,  to  all  who  are 


THE    MARTHAS. 


37 


anxious  to  be  sure  that  they  have  been  "  made  to 
drink  into  one  spirit"  with  the  children  of  God  on 
earth :  for,  if  the  persuasion  that  you  had  done 
Ihis  would  cheer  you,  how  much  more  cheering 
to  discover  that  your  best  principles  and  desires 
are  in  harmony  with  the  leading  principles  of  the 
whole  family  in  heaven  ?  You  are  quite  sure  that 
their  views  and  feelings  and  desires  are  right. 
You  see  at  a  glance,  that  they  cannot  err  nor 
mistake.  And,  do  you  not  see  also,  that  so  far  as 
your  spirit  resembles  theirs,  even  you  are  right 
too  ?  Consider  this.  The  great  principles  which 
prevail  ui  heaven  are  not  natural  on  earth;  do 
not  spring  up  by  accident  in  the  human  mind ; 
nor  can  they  be  learnt,  so  as  to  be  loved,  by  hu- 
man means.  Whoever  loves  them,  has  been 
taught  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  You  have  as  cer- 
tainly been  illuminated  and  led  by  him,  if  you  try 
to  thhik  and  feel  and  act  towards  the  Saviour  as 
the  saints  in  glory  do,  as  these  saints  have  been 
perfected  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  Yes ;  the  same 
hand  that  completed  their  sanctification,  has  be- 
gun your  sanctification,  if  you  are  trying  to  enter 
into  the  spirit  of  heavenly  principles. 

Do  not  say,  on  reading  tliis,  that  neither  your 
principles  nor  feelings  will  bear  to  be  tried  by  a 
heaxenly  standard.     It  is  not  so  true  as  it  is  plau- 
sible, that,  if  some  ear/Zi/y  standards  of  piety  make 
you  ashamed  and  even  afraid  of  yourself,  compa- 
rison with  perfect  spirits  must  overwhelm  your 
hopes  altogether.     This  is  plausible,  but  it  is  not 
true.     In  some  things,  indeed,  it  is  only  too  true, 
that  you  bear  none  of  the  image,  and  breathe 
none  of  the  spirit  of  the  family  in  heaven  ;  and  ui 
nothing  are  you  very  like  them.     There  is  some 
pride  even  in  your  deepest  humility :  some  sloth 
in  your  most  cheerful  obedience :  and  much  weak- 
ness in  your  strongest  faith  and  love.     I  neither  | 
forget  nor  palliate  this,  in  you  or  myself.     We  l 
may  well  hide  our  heads  in  the  dust,  when  we 
compare  ourselves  with  holy  men  and  women  of 
old,  even  v/hen  they  were  not  perfect ;  a-.d,  now  i 
that  they  are  holy  as  God  is  holy,  or  "  without ! 
spot  before  the  throne,"  we  may  well  shrink,  and  | 
that  not  a  little,  from  all  comparison  with  them.  } 
Indeed,  as  to  the  degree  of  their  holiness,  there  is 
no  comparison  between  us  and  them  :  it  is  all 
contrast  or  dissimilarity. 

You  see  clearly,  that  I  am  not  about  to  flatter 
or  compliment  you.  As,  however,  I  must  tell  you 
plainly  that,  if  you  "have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ, 
you  are  none  of  his,"  I  feel  equally  bound  to  re- 
mind you,  that  whatever  you  have  of  it,  is  really 
a  part  of  heavenly  piety,  and  as  truly  likeness  to 
the  saints  above,  as  it  is  to  the  saints  below. 
Now,  I  remind  you  of  this  fact,  because  whatever 
agreement  you  may  be  able  to  trace  out  between 
your  own  spirit  and  their  spirit,  will  be  more  easily 
traced  up  to  the  Holy  Spu-it,  than  even  the  points 
in  which  your  experience  resembles  that  of  Chris- 
tians on  earth.  For,  do  you  not  see,  that  if  you 
think  at  all,  feel  at  all,  desire  at  all,  as  saints  and 
angels  do  in  heaven,  there  must  have  been  some 
heavenly  influence  slied  upon  your  heart,  and  some 
divine  change  passed  upon  your  spirit !  For  as 
neither  saints  nor  angels  have  taught  you  their 
creed  or  their  emotions,  and  as  you  did  not  begin 
your  piety  by  trying  to  copy  their  example,  all 


real  participation  in  their  great  principles  must 
have  sprung  from  divine  teaching. 

This  conclusion  is  not  so  easily  drawn,  and  can- 
not be  so  safely  drawn,  from  your  resemblance  to 
your  pious  friends  on  earth.  I  do  not  say  that  it 
is  unsafe  to  draw  it  from  likeness  to  them.  I  have 
already  shown,  that  it  is  both  useful  and  encour- 
aging to  do  so  at  first.  It  is  not,  however,  the 
surest  ground  to  go  on :  for  as  we  do  not  know 
the  lieart  of  any  man  or  woman  fully,  we  cannot 
be  absolutely  certain  that  hkeness  to  them  is  con- 
version to  God.  In  the  case  of  glorified  spirits, 
however,  there  is  no  room  for  any  hesitation.  We 
are  absolutely  sure  of  their  sincerity,  simphcity, 
and  perfection :  and  therefore,  if  we  have  any 
real  fellow-feehng  with  them,  we  have  real  evi- 
dence of  having  passed  from  death  to  life. 

Is  there  then  any  thing  in  your  humility  akin  to 
their  humility  1  They  veil  their  faces  before  God  : 
they  fall  down  before  the  throne  :  and  even  when 
they  stand  around  the  throne  of  God  and  the 
Lamb,  they  smg  of  nothing  but  the  wonders  of 
the  grace  which  brought  them  to  glory.  Now 
this,  all  this,  you  intend  to  do  when  you  join  their 
company.  Like  them  you  will  be  glad  to  have 
eternity  aU  before  you,  and  the  throne  all  open  to 
you,  in  order  to  express,  for  ever,  your  adoring 
wonder  and  gratitude,  that  one  so  unworthy  as 
yourself  should  have  been  put  among  the  children 
and  made  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints 
in  light.  Well ;  is  there  any  thing  of  this  spirit 
in  your  humility  now?  Does  your  conscience 
bear  you  witness,  that  you  lie  low  before  God  in 
the  dust  of  self-abasement ;  that  you  are  ashamed, 
and  pained,  and  burdened,  on  account  of  your  sins 
and  short  comings;  that  you  can  hardly  bear  to 
think  of  your  own  vileness  and  weakness,  nor  see 
how  you  can  ever  forgive  yourself;  that  you  feel 
at  times  as  if  your  heart  would  break,  and  your 
soul  melt  within  you,  through  heavmess  and 
shame,  because  of  your  guilt  and  ingratitude  ? 
This  is  the  humility,  in  an  earthly  form,  of  the 
saints  in  heaven.  They,  indeed,  no  longer  weep. 
nor  groan,  nor  sigh,  nor  blush,  in  the  presence  of 
God.  His  hand  has  wiped  away  all  tears  from 
their  eyes,  and  his  smile  banished  all  pain  from 
their  hearts :  but  this  wonderful  love  has  only 
deepened  their  humihty.  The  very  absence  of 
all  sorrow  and  sighing,  leads  their  spotless  spirits 
to  pour  out  the  fulness  of  their  gratitude,  with  as 
much  modesty  as  rapture.  Their  most  breathless 
pauses  of  wonder  and  joy  occur,  when  they  re- 
member what  they  were  on  earth !  Thus  they 
are  all  as  fully  "  clothed  with  humility,"  as  with 
the  white  robes  of  righteousness  and  holiness. 

Now,  although  the  degree  of  their  huniility  is, 
of  course,  inimitable  on  earth,  the  kind  of  it  is  not 
so.  To  be  ashamed  and  bowed  down  in  spirit  by 
the  remembrance  of  sin,  is  real  humility  in  hea- 
ven and  on  earth.  And,  are  not  you  so  !  O, 
yes,  if  a  sense  of  guOt  and  unworthines^  lie  heavy 
j  on  your  heart,  you  have  drunk  into  the  same  spi- 
rit, which  leads  all  the  armies  of  the  redeemed  to 
I  prostrate  their  crowns,  and  to  fall  on  their  faces, 
before  the  eternal  throne.  And  tliis  is  not  less 
true,  if  you  are  chiefly  pained  and  ashamed,  be- 
cause your  penitence  is  not  so  humble  as  you  feel 
it  ought  to  be.  Your  humility  would  not  be  ge- 
nuine, if  you  were  quite  satisfied  with  its  depth. 


38 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


sin,  and  of  righteousness,  and  of  judgment ;"  and 
the  Spirit  put  this  promise  in  writing,  as  openly 
and  willingly  as  Christ  put  it  into  words  ;  thus 
undertaking  to  be  the  illuminator  of  the  world  as 
fully  as  Christ  was  the  Saviour  of  the  world. 
And  not  less  wHlingly  did  he  remind  the  apostles 
of  the  promise,  that  "  He  shall  abide  for  ever"  in 
the  church.  He  sanctioned  and  sealed  that  pledge 
too,  although  he  foresaw  all  the  labor  it  would  in- 
volve, and  all  the  provocation  he  would  have  to 
endure.  His  majesty  took  no  offence  at  the 
weakness  or  the  unworthiness  of  the  myriads  he 
had  to  teach  ;  nor  his  piu-ity,  at  the  vileness  of 
those  he  had  to  sanctify  ;  nor  his  patience,  at  the 
waywardness  of  those  he  had  to  guide  ;  nor  his 
mdependence,  at  the  poverty  of  those  he  had  to 
console.  In  a  word,  like  the  Saviour,  the  Spi- 
rit came,  "  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  mi- 
nister." 

The  epistles  of  the  New  Testament  form  an- 
other illustration  and  proof  of  the  love  of  the  Spi- 
rit. In  them,  he  as  faithfully  taught  the  v«-iters 
"  all  things,"  as  in  the  gospels  he  had  brought 
"all  things"  to  their  "remembrance."  In  the 
latter  he  led  them  back  to  "  all  truth ;"  and  in  the 
former  led  them  "into  all  truth." 

My  limits  will  not  allow  me  to  trace,  through- 
out the  epistles,  the  fukiess  nor  the  frequency 
with  which  he  expanded  and  explained  "  tlie  truth 
as  it  is  in  Jesus."  And  it  is  not  necessary  to  do 
so.  You  can  see  at  a  glance,  that  whUst  he  ad- 
hered to  the  very  letter  of  all  that  Christ  taught 
and  did,  he  also  brought  out  the  spirit  of  the  whole, 
in  new  forms  of  argument  and  appeal,  of  power 
and  glory,  which  set  aU  the  Saviour's  "  apples  of 
gold,  in  pictures  of  silver." 

The  experimental  design  of  this  little  treatise 
requires  now,  that  the  office  of  tlie  Spirit  as  a 
remembrancer,  be  traced  in  the  well  known  fact, 
that  he  still  suggests  and  applies  the  things  of 
Christ  unto  the  mind.  "  He  shall  take  of  mine," 
said  the  Saviour,  "  and  show  it  unto  you."  This 
he  did  to  the  apostles  ;  and  the  gospels  were  the 
first  fruits,  and  the  epistles  the  full  harvest  of  his 
revealing  love.  He  did  not,  however,  cease  to 
suggest  nor  to  apply  the  truth,  when  he  closed 
the  canon  of  Scripture.  No ;  he  closed  the  canon, 
to  open  the  heart  to  understand  and  enjoy  it. 
Accordingly,  every  Christian  recollects  well,  many 
timely  and  useful  suggestions  of  both  promises 
and  warnings,  which,  if  they  had  not  been  brought 
to  his  remembrance  by  the  Spirit,  he  must  have 
sunk  under  trials  or  fallen  before  strong  tempta- 
tions. How  true  it  is,  that  "when  the  enemy 
Cometh  in  as  a  flood,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  lifts 
up  a  standard  against  him  !"  That  repelling  and 
protecting  standard  is  never  a  new  truth,  ui  the 
sense  of  revelation  ;  but,  in  the  sense  of  applica- 
tion, it  is,  although  brought  from  the  old  armory, 
as  new  to  the  mind,  as  if  it  were  created  at  the 
moment.  For  then,  we  see  m  some  promise  what 
we  never  saw  before.  It  suits  and  soothes  us, 
just  as  if  it  had  been  made  for  no  other  purpose 
or  person.  It  takes  a  place  in,  and  exercises  a 
power  over,  the  mind,  which  could  hardly  be 
greater,  were  it  a  direct  communication  from  hea- 
ven, or  an  entirely  new  gift  from  the  Spirit.  I  do 
not  wonder,  whoever  else  does,  that  such  timely 
and  tender  applications  of  suitable  promises,  have 


been  mistaken  for  revelations.  This  was  a  mis- 
take :  but  it  is  no  mistake,  to  regard  that  applica- 
tion as  the  direct  and  immediate  work  of  the  Spi- 
rit. There  is  new  loork,  although  only  the  old 
word. 

I  have  not  a  little  sympathy  even  with  the  more 
questionable  experience,  which  speaks  of — '■'■get- 
ting a  promise" — lighting  upon  a  promise — hav- 
ing a  promise  wonderfully  borne  in  upon  the  mind." 
When  the  promise  itself,  and  not  the  manner  of 
obtaining  it,  is  the  source  of  comfort,  I  see  no 
harm  nor  weakness  in  ascribing  to  the  Spirit,  the 
timing  of  its  application.  Getting  hold  of  a  pro- 
mise at  a  critical  moment,  is  no  small  blessing. 
In  the  case  of  those  who  have  but  little  know- 
ledge, or  weak  faculties,  it  is  a  very  great  bless- 
ing. Yes  ;  and  even  those  who  are  mightiest  in 
the  Scriptures,  and  strongest  in  mind,  are  glad  at 
times  to  plead  before  God,  like  David,  "  the  word 
in  season,"  upon  which  God  had  "  caused  them 
to  hope,"  in  the  day  of  former  calamity  or  dark- 
ness. 

I  am  fully  aware  that  the  Spirit  has  often  been 
dishonored  by  having  ascribed  to  him,  visionary 
and  crude  applications  of  insulated  passages  of 
Scripture.  He  apphes  nothing  but  the  meaning 
or  the  sense  of  the  word ;  and  that,  only  in  its 
holy  design.  He  whispers  no  sweet  promise  in 
the  ear  of  the  disobedient  or  the  backsliding,  ex- 
cept to  remind  them,  that  they  dare  not  appro- 
priate it  to  themselves.  He  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  comforts  which  those  get  from  "dark 
sayings,"  who  refuse  to  take  comfort  from  the 
plain  glad  tidings  of  the  gospel.  It  is  an  evil  spi- 
rit, not  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  leads  into  fanciful 
interpretations  of  Jewish  history  or  ceremony, 
which  the  apostles  have  not  spiritualized. 

In  like  manner,  it  may  be  laid  down  as  a  univer- 
sal maxim  in  the  teaching  of  the  Spirit,  that  he 
never  stops  at  one  lesson.  Whenever,  therefore, 
any  person  takes  up  with  one  promise,  suddenly 
or  signally  brought  home  to  him,  and  then  rests 
his  hope  of  pardon  upon  that  promise,  to  the  ne- 
glect of  all  other  truth,  it  is  quite  certain  that  the 
Spu-it  of  truth  did  not  apply  the  comfort :  for  he 
leads  into  all  truth,  whoever  he  leads.  This,  in- 
deed, he  does  gradually  in  almost  all  cases  ;  but 
in  no  case  does  he  begin  the  lesson  which  does 
not  go  on,  or  which  is  not  followed  up  by  others. 
But  whilst  I  readily  allow  and  proclaim,  that  tliey 
are  all  duping,  and  thus  ruining  their  souls,  who 
are  satisfied  with  having  had  a  promise  brought 
home  to  them  at  one  time,  whilst  ever  since  they 
have  paid  no  attention  to  the  Scriptures,  and  but 
little  to  personal  rehgion,  I  must  contend  for  the 
experimental  fact,  that  the  Spirit  docs,  from  time 
to  time,  open  and  apply  the  Scriptures  to  the 
emergencies  of  the  divine  light,  and  according  to 
the  wants  of  the  prayerful.  A  standing  proof  of 
this  occurs  in  the  sanctuary  from  Sabbath  to 
Sabbath.  It  is  always  the  case,  that  experimen- 
tal sermons  seem  to  some  of  the  audience,  actu- 
ally made  for  them  ;  and  as  much  to  the  point,  as 
if  "the  man  of  God"  had  heard  their  family  con- 
versation in  their  secret  prayers,  in  the  morning. 
He,  of  course,  Imcw  nothing  of  either ;  but  the 
Spirit,  who  led  them  to  desire  and  pray  for  a  word 
in  season,  led  liim  to  the  word  they  wanted. 

There  are  only  two  things  farther,  which  my 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


39 


fepace  will  allow  me  to  hint  at.  The  first  is,  that 
t  would  be  a  sad  abuse  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit, 
to  depend  on  his  suggestions,  to  the  neglect  of 
searching  the  Scriptures,  and  treasuring  up  the 
word  of  Christ  in  our  hearts.  Those  who  neglect 
this  duty,  will  not  find  the  Spirit  to  be  their  re- 
membrancer for  comfort,  in  the  day  of  trouble. 
He  wUl  not  supersede  the  use  of  the  Bible  by 
suggesting  any  thing,  but  warnings,  to  them  who 
do  not  use  it ;  for  he  is  tlie  Spirit  of  truth,  not  of 
impulse  ;  and  only  "  the  Spirit  of  wisdom,"  to 
those  who  honor  him  as  "  the  Spirit  of  revela- 
tion." 

The  other  hint  is,  (and  it  might  be  expanded  to 
a  volume,)  that  we  should  find  it  almost  as  useful 
to  go  over  the  New  Testament,  looking  for  the 
mind  of  the  Spirit,  as  the  apostles  found  it  to  lis- 
ten to  the  Spirit,  when  they  wrote  from  his  dicta- 
tion. How  differently  the  words  of  Christ  sound- 
ed to  them,  when  the  Holy  Gliost  repeated  and 
explained  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  !  How  often 
they  must  have  said,  whilst  hearing  the  Spirit, 
"  Hoio  foolish  and  igimraiU  was  I,  when  I  first 
heard  these  wonderful  things  from  the  lips  of 
Christ !" 

Why  should  you  not  go  over  your  Testament 
again,  marking,  from  page  to  page,  the  new  light 
and  lovehness,  which  you  now  see,  in  parts  that 
once  made  no  impression  upon  you  ?  Why  not 
number  and  review  every  part,  which  you  have 
found  experimentally  true  and  sweet  ?  Do  mark 
in  the  margin  of  your  closet  or  family  Bible,  every 
passage  which  the  Spirit  has  ever  shone  upon. 
You  wUl  thus  increase  your  own  evidences  of  hav- 
ing been  led  by  the  Spuit ;  and  confirm  your  con- 
fidence in  his  teacloing;  and  meet  his  love  to 
yourself  by  more  ardent  love  to  him  than  you 
have  yet  cultivated.  And  all  this,  he  would  soon 
and  amply  repay,  by  witnessing  to  and  sealing  his 
own  work  on  your  soul. 


No.  XII. 


THE   LOVE   OF   THE   SPIRIT   AS   A   COMFORTER. 

When  the  Saviour  promised  to  send  the  Spirit  as 
a  comforter,  he  called  him,  "  another  Comforter  ;" 
not  a  different  one  to  what  he  himself  had  been. 
It  is  by  overlooking  this  fact,  or  by  not  consider- 
ing wliat  kind  of  a  comforter  tlie  Saviour  liimself 
was  whilst  in  the  world,  that  so  many  of  the  seri- 
ous and  the  suffering  are  uncomfortable.  They 
look  for  more,  or  for  another  kind  of  comfort,  than 
was  promised  ;  and,  not  finding  it,  they  are  thsap- 
pointed,  and  thus  tempted  to  reckon  the  consola- 
tions of  the  Spirit  "few or  small."  This  is  a  sad 
mistake  !  The  Spirit  is  always,  in  the  case  of 
all  believers,  just  such  a  comforter  as  Christ  liim- 
self was,  when  he  comforted  his  disciples. 

Look  at  this  fact.  What  kind  of  a  comforter 
was  the  Saviour  to  his  friends,  whilst  he  remained 
with  them  on  earth "?  Not  a  "  miserable"  com- 
forter, certainly  :  but  still,  as  cautious  as  he  was 
kind  ;  as  prudent  as  he  was  tender,  he  comforted 
his  disciples,  just  as  he  taught  them : — as  they 
could  bear  it,  and  not  always  as  they  wished  for 
It.  Accordingly,  when  they  would  have  called 
TO  Clti) 


down  "  fire  from  heaven,"  to  punish  their  enemies, 
he  not  only  refused  their  wish,  but  also  reproved 
tlieir  spirit  thus,  "  Ye  know  not  what  manner  of 
spirit  ye  are  of."  Luke  Lx.  55.  In  like  manner, 
when  they  gave  way  to  an  ambitious  spirit,  and 
strove  which  of  them  should  be  greatest  in  his 
kingdom,  Jesus  rebuked  them  both  by  words  and 
significant  actions.  All  this,  and  much  more,  he 
did  and  said,  whenever  they  fell  into  wrong  tem- 
pers or  habits.  But,  was  he  not  their  comforter, 
notwithstanding  all  the  reproofs  and  warnings  he 
thus  gave  them  ft-om  time  to  time!  They  them- 
selves felt  that  he  was  so,  in  the  best  sense :  a 
comforter,  who  neither  spoiled  them  by  indul- 
gence, nor  disappointed  tliem  by  caprice.  Peter, 
no  doubt,  felt  very  uncomfortable  at  first,  when 
Christ  said  to  him,  "  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan, 
for  thou  savorest  not  the  tilings  which  be  of  God ;" 
and  equally  so,  when  told  that  he  would  deny  his 
Lord.  The  mother  of  Zebedee's  children,  and 
her  two  sons  also,  tiiought  it  any  thing  but  com- 
forting them,  when  Jesus  refused  to  maternal  so- 
j  licitude,  the  right  and  left  hand  seats  in  his  king- 
dom. Martha,  too,  found  him  any  tiling  but  the 
kind  of  comforter  she  wished  and  expected,  when 
she  was  absorbed,  beyond  all  reason  and  neces- 
sity, with  worldly  tilings.  But  still,  none  of  these 
chastised  children,  thought  his  consolations  few 
or  small  upon  the  whole.  Accordingly,  "  sorrow 
filled"  all  their  hearts,  when  Jesus  began  to  ex- 
plain to  them  his  approaching  return  to  heaven. 
The  sad  prospect  of  losing  his  endeared  company 
even  for  a  time,  soon  revealed  to  them,  what  a 
comforter  he  had  always  been  ! 

Now  it  was  whilst  they  thus  remembered,  and 
appreciated,  and  felt,  both  the  kind  and  tjie  de- 
gree of  the  comfort  they  had  enjoyed  for  years, 
that  he  promised  the  Spirit  as  "  another  comfort- 
er," or  just  such  another  friend  as  he  himself  had 
been  ;  a  very  present  help  in  all  real  trouble  :  a 
very  gentle  reprover  of  all  imaginary  fears ;  and  a 
very  faithful  monitor  against  whatever  was  sinful 
in  conduct  or  temper.  You  thus  see,  that  they 
could  not  mistake  his  meaning.  It  must  have 
been  as  obvious  to  them,  from  their  own  experi- 
ence of  his  comforts,  as  his  promise  of  "  Peace" 
was  to  them,  when  he  quaUfied  the  words,  "  Peace 
I  leave  with  you,"  by  the  additional  clause,  "  My 
peace  give  I  unto  you ;  let  not  your  heart  be  trou- 
bled, neither  let  it  be  afraid."  This  timely  appeal 
to  his  own  peace,  was  intended  to  prevent  all  vi- 
sionary dreams  of  earthly  ease.  The  disciples 
knew  well  what  his  peace  had  been  !  Not  peace 
arising  from  the  absence  of  trials  or  temptations ; 
but  peace  under  them,  and  notwithstanding  them 
all.  And  equally  well  did  they  know  what  kind 
of  a  comforter  the  Saviour  had  been :  and  thus 
they  were  prepared  to  look  only  for  similar  com- 
fort, when  the  Spirit  was  given. 

You  now  see  at  a  glance,  that  Peter  would  not 
expect  the  Holy  Ghost  to  comfort  him,  when  he 
gave  way  to  his  fiery  and  rash  temper ;  nor  Mar- 
tha, when  she  cumbered  herself  miduly  with  bus- 
tle ;  nor  James  and  John,  if  they  became  ambi- 
tious again  ;  nor  any  of  them  expect  the  cheer- 
ing and  sealing  comforts  of  the  Spirit,  apart  from 
walking  in  the  Spirit.  In  a  word,  they  would  all 
lay  their  accoimt,  with  finding  the  Holy  Spirit  of 
God  just  Buch  a  comforter,  as  they  had  found,  by 


40 


THE    MARTHAS. 


is  not  true  of  all  your  fellow-Christians  on  earth. 
Some  of  them  need  both  sympathy  and  help,  iii 
order  to  be  faithful  unto  death  ;  and  all  of  them 
deserve  aflectionate  notice,  in  order  to  be  useful 
in  life.  And,  what  am  I — or  who  are  you — tliat 
we  should  care  nothing  about  our  brethren  ?  If 
those  we  stand  aloof  from  have  faults, — so  have 
■we  :  and  if  God  were  to  treat  us  for  our  offences 
against  himself,  as  we  treat  them  for  their  offences 
against  us,  how  should  we  like  it — what  would  he 
the  consequence  1 

Besides  ;  are  there  none  in  yom-  neighborhood, 
very  low  in  life — very  straitened  in  circumstances 
— very  much  exposed  to  temptation,  just  because  of 
heavy  trials  ;  but  who  really  have  "  the  root  of  the 
matter"  in  them,  notwithstanding  all  these  things  ? 
And,  are  you  ashamed  or  afraid  to  notice  and  own 
them,  as  Christians?  True;  they  may  not  do 
much  credit  to  Christianity,  whilst  they  hardly 
know  how  to  "  make  the  ends  meet"  in  life.  But 
if  you  look  down  on  them — if  you  withhold  from 
them  all  countenance  and  counsel, — if  they  may 
sink  or  swim  for  any  thing  you  care, — who  risks 
the  credit  of  Christianity  most  ? 

Do,  ask  yourself  often,  how  you  could  meet  in 
heaven,  without  shame,  some  whom,  notwithstand- 
ing all  their  faults,  you  expect  and  wish  to  meet 
there  1     True  ;  they  will  not  upbraid  you  when 
they  meet  you  before  the  throne.     The  neglected 
will  not  say — You  used  to  pass  me  even  at  the 
sacrament,  without   condescending  to  speak   or 
look  to  me.     Those  who  «  came  out  of  great  tri- 
bulation," will  not  say, — "  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visit- 
ed me  not ;  hungry,  and  ye  gave  me  no  meat ; 
thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  no  drink ;  naked,  and  ye 
clothed  me  not."     This  will  never  be  repeated, 
after  Christ  has  said  it  from  the  Judgment-seat : 
but,  should  it  even  be  pardoned  by  him  in  your 
case,  how  could  you  ever  forgive  yourself,  when 
you  see  the  poor  of  the  flock  at  his  right  hand  ? 
Why,  their  very  silence  and  cordiality  will  then 
be  more  humiliating  to  you  (although  not  at  all 
intended  to  be  so)  than  the  most  cutting  reproofs. 
Sympathy  witii  poor  and  afflicted  Christians  is, 
remember,  as  much  a  leading  as  it  is  a  lovely  fea- 
ture of  heavenly  character.     It  is  the  very  bright- 
est feature  of  tlie  social  character  of  the  angels  of 
God.     We  know  more  about  their  sympathy  with 
tlie  penitent,  the  suffering,  and  the  dying,  than  of 
their  nature  or  their  history.     I  have  sometimes 
come,  in  thought,  to  "  the  innumerable  company 
of  angels,"  saying  to  myself,  without  any  difficul- 
ty, until  I  saw  them  in  the  vision  of  John,  "  Are 
they  not  all  ministering  spirits  to  the  heirs  of  sal- 
vation?"     Whilst    I   thought   of  them   only   as 
a   whole,   I    was    not   much   humbled   by    their 
ministry.     But  when  I  began  to  observe  them, 
one  by  one,  in  the  glass  of  the  Apocalypse,  I  have 
been  compelled  to  exclaim, — What,  all  minister- 
ing spirits  to  the  heirs  of  salvation?     That  angel 
— "  having  the  Seal  of  the  living  God  ?"     Yes  ; 
he  has  it  to  seal  his  servants  on  earth.     What, 
those  four  angels  "  having  the  four  winds  of  the 
earth?"     Yes;  "that  the  winds  should  not  blow 
to  hurt"  the  trees  in  the  garden  of  God !     But 
that  angel,  "  clothed  with  a  cloud,  and  a  rainbow 
around  his  head,  and  his  face  as  it  were  the  sun," 
is  he  too  a  ministering  spirit  to  men?     Yes;  and 
well  pleased  to  hold  in  his  hand  "a  little  book!" 


But  that  angel,  "  having  the  key  of  the  bottomless 
pit,  and .  a  great  chain  in  his  hand,"  is  he  too  a 
ministering  spirit  to  man?  Yes;  he  shall  bijid 
Satan,  and  shut  him  up  for  a  thousand  years,  that 
he  may  "  not  deceive  the  nations." 

Truly,  they  are  all  ministering  spirits .'  Yes  ; 
and  any  of  them  would  have  gloried  to  carry  La- 
zarus to  heaven.  All  of  them  rejoiced  when  yait 
repented  :  and  is  there  any  heir  of  salvation,  you 
are  ashamed  to  own,  or  unvi'illing  to  aid  ?  Woman  ! 
"  know  thyself ;"  thy  duty  ;  thy  destiny. 


No.  VII. 


VARIETIES,   FROM   FRETFULNESS. 

Any  one  can  expose  or  reprove  that  feverish  and 
fretful  care,  which  is  always  foreboding  the  worst, 
or  embittering  hfe  by  complaints,  and  suspicions, 
and  clamor. 

It  is  peculiar  to  the  Saviour,  to  treat  undue 
care  with  equal  tenderness  and  fidelity.  He 
makes  the  fretful  and  the  foreboding  feel,  that  he 
knows  thoroughly  "what  is  in  them,"  and  yet 
that  he  feels  for  them.  Whilst  he  measures  and 
weighs  their  unbehef  so  minutely,  that  we  lay  our 
account  with  Jiearing  him  say,  "They  have  no 
faith  at  all  in  Providence,"  to  our  surprise,  he  only 
says  to  them,  "  O,  ye  of  little  faith."  Thus,  just 
when  he  seems  about  to  disown  th'.m  entirely,  for 
their  distrust  of  Providence,  he  lays  his  hand  upon 
them  as  gently  as  upon  sinking  Peter,  asking, 
"  Wherefore  didst  thou  doubt?" 

Did  you  ever  mark  the  inimitable  skill  with 
which  the  Saviour  met  the  over-anxiety  of  his 
first  disciples,  when  they  began  to  dwell  too  much, 
and  too  peevishly,  upon  the  questions,  "What 
shall  we  eat,  and  what  shall  we  drink,  and  where- 
withal shall  we  be  clothed  ?" 

For  a  moment  he  almost  identified  their  "cark, 
ing  care"  about  hfe  and  the  means  of  life,  with 
the  clamorous  solicitude  of  the  heathen,  for  tem- 
poral things  :  "  after  all  these  tilings  do  the  Gen- 
tiles  seek  :"  but  he  did  not  leave  them  to  suspect, 
from  this  reproof,  that  they  stood  in  no  nearer  re- 
lation to  God,  than  the  lieathen.  No  ;  lie  imme- 
diately  added,  "  Your  Heavenly  Father  knoweth 
that  ye  have  need  of  all  these  things."  Matt. 
vi.  'S2.  Thus,  in  the  same  breath,  he  rebuked  their 
WTong  spirit,  and  yet  upheld  their  adoption. 
"  This  is  not  the  manner  of  man,  O  Lord  God  !" 

Did  you  ever  observe,  that  he  never  calls  upon 
us  to  compare  our  lot  with  that  of  those  who  are 
above  us,  or  with  that  of  those  who  are  below  us, 
upon  the  ladder  of  providence  ?  Except  in  the 
single  case  of  persecution  or  reproach  for  his  own 
name's  sake,  he  does  not  even  remind  us  of  the 
greater  trials  of  some  others.  "  So  persecuted 
they  the  prophets  which  were  before  you,"  is  the 
only  instance  in  which  he  teaches  patience  or 
contentment,  by  comparisons.  This  is  another 
remarkable  peculiarity  in  the  ministry  of  the  Sa- 
viour. He  taught  providence  from  nature,  not 
from  society.  He  made  the  lilies  of  the  fields,  or 
the  birds  of  the  air,  his  texts,  in  preference  to  all 
the  facts  which  the  varieties  of  life  furnished, 


THE    MARTHAS. 


41 


whether  his  object  was  to  reprove  or  to  soothe,  ] 
the  fears  of  his  disciples. 

There  was  consummate  wisdom  in  this,  whe-  j 
ther  you  see  it  or  not.  It  would  do  you  good,  to 
«  consider  the  lilies  of  the  field  and  the  birds  of 
the  air,"  when  you  feel  the  burden  of  your  cares 
overwhehning.  This  may  seem  very  unhkely  at 
first  sight,  to  you.  Like  myself,  you  may  be  ready 
to  say, — my  cares  are  too  heavy  to  be  alleviated 
by  such  considerations  :  it  seems  almost  mockery, 
or  mere  sentimentahty,  to  send  me  ta  learn  of 
birds  or  UUes.  What  could  the  growth  of  flowers, 
or  the  preservation  of  birds,  teach  me  ?  What 
light  could  such  common  things  throw  upon  my 
uncommon  anxieties  ? 

In  tliis  flippant  way,  and  in  this  wrong  spirit, 
are  we  inclined  to  meet  the  Saviour's  advice  :  for 
there  is  no  sense  in  such  objections.  They  are 
mere  sound.  Accordingly,  we  should  be  con- 
demned out  of  our  own  lips,  were  he  to  press  us 
with  the  single  question, — What  benefit  do  you 
derive  from  brooding  over  your  cares  ?  You  think 
and  say,  that  you  could  derive  neither  hght  nor 
good  from  considering  the  things  I  commend  to 
your  notice.  You  cannot,  however,  say  that  the 
consideration  of  them  would  do  you  any  harm: 
whereas  I  know,  and  you  must  acknowledge,  that 
the  views  you  take  of  your  cares  rather  aggravate 
than  alleviate  them.  You  contrast  your  lot  with 
those  above  you ;  and  that  mortifies  you  ;  you 
compare  it  with  those  below  you :  and  that  dis- 
courao-es  you,  because  you  are  thus  compelled  to 
see  how  you  may  sink  still  lower  in  the  world. 
Thus  when  you  look  ;//)  the  ladder  of  life,  you  are 
dissatisfied  ;  and  when  you  look  down  it,  you  are 
ready  to  despair.  Now,  to  say  the  least,  feehngs 
of  this  kind  would  not  be  produced  by  considering 
how  the  lilies  grow,  and  how  the  birds  are  pro- 
vided for  !  I  readily  grant,  that  such  httle  things 
do  not  appear  capable  of  teaching  much  wisdom  : 
but  still,  what  they  do  teach  gives  no  offence  : 
which  is,  you  know,  more  than  can  be  said  with 
truth,  of  some  of  the  graver  lessons  you  get,  occa- 
sionally,/ro?;j  certain  persons. 

Besides  there  is  a  great  deal  of  pride  in  our  re- 
luctance to  be  "  shut  up"  to  an  exclusive  depend- 
ence upon  God,  and  to  a  complete  deference  to 
his  will.  For,  why  should  we  be  less  dependent 
than  irrational  things  1  We  are  not  so  pure  as 
the  lily,  nor  so  innocent  as  the  bird.  We  can, 
indeed,  do  more  for  ourselves,  and  we  can  think 
much  ;  but  if  both  our  doing  and  thinking  have 
for  their  real  object,  to  try  how  far  we  can  take 
our  affairs  out  of  the  hands  of  God,  into  our  own 
hands,  we  need  not  wonder  that  God  should  cross 
us  at  times,  and  always  leave  us  to  feel  that  we 
cannot  remove  nor  lighten  our  burdens  by  impa- 
tience. 

You  do  not  believe,  perhaps,  that  you  want  to 
take  your  affairs  out  of  the  hands  of  God,  into 
your  own  hands.  There  may  be  only  two  or 
three  things  in  your  lot,  which  you  wish  to  alter : 
and  as  there  are  many  good  things  in  the  lot  of 
others,  which  you  are  content  to  be  without,  you 
think  it  rather  unfair  to  be  charged  with  pride  or 
perverseness,  merely  because  you  want  to  have 
your  own  way  in  a  few  points.  Besides,  you  may 
even  be  con?cious  that  one  great  reason,  why  you 
are  so  dissatisfied  with  some  thi.'.gs,  is,  because 
65  (15) 


they  distract  your  mind,  and  thus  prevent  you  from 
serving  God  so  well  as  you  wish  to  do.  It  is, 
therefore,  you  think,  both  ungenerous  and  unjust, 
to  be  suspected  of,  much  more  to  be  charged  with, 
any  such  impious  design  as  that  of  wanting  to  be 
independent  of  Providence.  You  never  dreamt 
of  such  a  thing — did  you  ? 

Do  not  answer  this  question,  until  you  have 
considered  another  peculiarity  in  the  Saviour's  les- 
sons on  providence.  He  does  not  teach  confi- 
dence in,  nor  resignation  to  Providence,  either  as 
abstract  duties,  or  for  their  own  sake,  as  Christian 
irtues ;  but  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  keeping  up 
the  spirit  and  habit  of  prayer,  and  a  proper  regard 
to  the  eternal  welfare  of  the  soul.  Now  the  fact 
is,  we  really  pray  no  more,  either  for  spiritual  or 
temporal  blessings,  than  just  to  the  extent  of  our 
sense  of  entire  dependence  on  God.  Our  word& 
may  go  beyond  this ;  but  our  praying  stops  where 
our  sense  of  dependence  on  the  divine  good-will 
and  power  ends.  There  may  be  some  worship 
and  some  devotion  in  what  we  say  to  God,  when  we 
no  longer  feel  utterly  helpless,  nor  absolutely  at 
his  disposal ;  but  there  is  no  prayer.  Nothing  is 
prayer,  but  that  asking,  or  seeking,  which  pro- 
ceeds from  a  full  conviction,  that  God  alone  can 
help  or  uphold  us. 

Now  we  are  unable  to  bear  this  deep  sense  of 
utter  helplessness,  in  regard  to  every  thing  we 
need  for  hfe  and  godliness.  Our  spirit  would  sink 
entirely,  if  it  always  felt  all  its  needs,  as  it  feels 
some  of  them.  Our  Heavenly  Father  does  not 
forget  this.  "  He  knoweth  our  frame,  and  remem- 
bereth  that  we  are  but  dust."  He  teacheth  us 
dependence,  as  well  as  other  things,  only  as  we 
are  "  able  to  bear"  the  discovery.  Accordingly, 
it  is  only  at  a  few  points  in  the  circle  of  our 
wants,  or  of  our  weaknesses,  that  we  are  com- 
pelled to  cry  out,  "  Lord  save,  or  I  perish."  It  is 
only  now  and  then  that  the  fiill  truth  of  the  ora- 
cle, "  vain  is  the  help  of  man,"  is  forced  deeply 
home  upon  us.  We  are  not  left,  however,  to  for- 
get this  oracle,  nor  to  give  up  that  prayer.  God 
will  have  us — by  some  means — sensible  of  our 
absolute  dependence  on  his  will. 

Now,  what  if  the  hardship,  the  cross,  or  the 
burden,  which  you  and  I  so  want  to  get  rid  of, 
and  which  we  bear  so  ill,  be  the  very  best  thing, 
indeed  the  only  tiling,  that  could  keep  us  at  the 
feet  of  God?  Remember;  we  must  be  kept 
there  by  something.  It  is  also  but  too  true,  that 
those  things  in  our  lot  which  please  us  most,  do 
not  send  us  oftenest  mto  our  closets,  even  for 
thanksgiving — to  say  nothing  of  supplication  for 
their  continuance.  Might  not,  therefore,  the  re- 
moval of  the  cross  which  we  fret  under,  remove 
us  from  the  closet  altogether  ! 

Now  this  is  just  the  secret  of  our  case.  That 
one  thing  in  our  lot,  which  we  are  so  anxious  to 
get  rid  of,  is  the  very  thing  which  makes  us  feel 
that  we  cannot  control  providence,  nor  do  with- 
out help  from  God.  Were,  therefore,  that  "  cup 
to  pass  away,"  this  feeling  would  pass  away 
with  it. 

It  is  all  fallacy  or  fancy,  to  reckon  otherwise. 
We  may  mean  well,  but  we  judge  ill,  when  we 
take  for  wranted  that  we  should  serve  God  bet- 
ter, if  our  chief  an.\iety  were  taken  away.     I  do 


42 


THE    MARTHAS. 


not,  of  course,  intend  by  this  remark,  to  convey 
the  idea,  tliat  no  other  cross  could  keep  us  aware 
of,  or  awake  to,  our  entire  dependence  on  God. 
He  could  make  any  cross  or  crook  in  our  lot,  an- 
swer the  same  purpose.     But,  why  should  he 


change  the  rod  which  check  us  ;  or,  why  whould 
we  wish  it  changed  for  another  1  Another  must 
be  sent  in  its  place  ;  and  must  be  heavy  enough 
to  produce  in  us,  as  in  Paul,  the  settled  conviction 
that  God  is  Master. 


THE     END. 


THE 


LOVE    OP    THE    SPIRIT; 


TRACED   IN   HIS  WORK 


A  COMPANION  TO  THE 


'^  EXPERIMENTAL    GUIDES." 


BY   ROBERT   PHILIP, 

OF  MABERLT  CHAPEI.. 


"  Why  do  those  who  speak  much  of  the  love  of  God  and  of  Christ,  say  so 
little  about  the  love  of  the  SPIRIT  r'—Z^r.  Henderson. 

"  He  comes  to  us  with  the  love,  and  upon  the  condescension,  of  all  the 
blessed  TRINITY."- /)r.  Owen. 


NEW-YORK  : 

THOMAS  GEORGE,  JR.  SPRUCE  STREET. 

1  8  3  G . 


INTRODUCTION 


It  is  a  singular  fact,  that  we  liave  no  treatise 
on  the  Love  of  the  Spirit.  The  British  pulpit  and 
press  have  covered  tiiemselves  with  glory,  by  their 
exhibitions  of  the  wonders  of  Redeeming  Love,  as 
these  characterise  the  good  will  of  the  Father, 
and  the  mediatorial  work  of  Christ ;  and  by  un- 
rivalled demonstrations  of  the  personality  and 
agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit :  but  no  writer,  that  I 
know  ot  (and  I  have  searched  diligently,)  has 
traced  the  wonders  of  the  Spirit's  love,  in  Re- 
demption. OwxN  has  certainly  done  much  to  en- 
dear the  Spirit  to  believers,  in  his  brief  treatise 
on  "Fellowship  with  the  Holy  Ghost,"  at  the 
close  of  his  masterly  work  on  "  Communion  with 
God."  The  Spirit  is,  however,  the  gift  of  God 
and  Christ  to  the  world,  as  well  as  to  the  church. 
His  mission  embraces '  both  the  world  and  the 
church,  just  as  the  love  of  God  and  the  death  of 
Christ  embrace  them.  John  xvi.  8.  According- 
ly, quite  as  much  is  said  in  Scripture,  to  commend 
him  to  the  confidence  of  both,  as  to  demonstrate 
their  absolute  and  universal  need  of  his  holy  in- 
fluences. But  how  many  overlook  this  fact !  In 
general,  the  unconverted  and  the  undecided,  turn 
their  need  of  the  Spirit,  into  apologies  for  delay. 
They  think  of  his  grace  as  power,  rather  than  as 
love ;  and  thus  imagine  that  they  may  safely  wait 
for  it.  Many  of  the  penitent  also,  although  pene- 
trated with  a  sense  of  their  need  of  the  Spirit,  are 
yet  very  doubtful  whether  he  will  work  all  that  in 
them,  which  they  feel  to  be  necessary  for  them. — 
They  are  afraid  to  calculate  upon  tlie  exercise  of 
his  power,  in  their  own  case.  And  not  a  few. 
even  of  those  who  can  hardly  doubt,  that  he  will 
carry  on  the  good  work  he  has  begun  in  them, 
are  evidently  more  influenced  in  their  hopes,  by 
his  power,  and  faithfulness,  than  by  his  delight  in 
his  work,  or  his  love  to  the  subjects  of  it.  They 
are  not  so  much  at  home, — when  they  speak  of 
the  love  of  the  Spirit  to  their  souls,  as  when  they 
speak  of  the  love  of  God  or  of  the  Lamb.  They 
dwell  with  solicitude  and  solemnity,  upon  their 
need  of  the  grace  of  the  Spirit ;  but  not  with  rap- 
ture, or  complacency,  on  the  richness,  freeness, 
and  gloiy  of  his  grace.  They  do  not  exactly 
question  its  fulness,  its  freeness,  or  its  tenderness ; 
but  neither  do  they  rejoice  in  them,  as  in  the  ten- 
der love  of  the  Father,  or  the  intense  love  of  the 
Son.  The  Father's  promise  of  the  Spirit,  or  the 
Son's  gift  of  the  Spirit,  rather  than  the  grace  or 


the  glory  of  the  Spirit  himsfif,  is  most  relied  on, 
and  rejoiced  in  by  believers  in  general.  They  ra- 
ther plead  the  promises  of  his  help,  than  lean  di- 
rectly upon  his  own  good  will  and  great  power  for 
help.  Their  confidence  and  complacency  are  thus 
less  in  himself,  than  in  the  covenant  which  pledges 
his  influences ;  although  his  place  in  that  covenant 
was  his  own  choice  from  eternity,  and  has  been 
his  chief  deliglit  ever  since  he  entered  upon  its 
duties,  and  will  be  the  "  rest"  of  his  love  until  the 
end  of  time ! 

I  have  seen  and  felt  so  much  of  this,  and  found 
so  little  to  counteract  it,  in  our  theology,  that  I 
was  compelled,  for  my  own  sake,  to  trace  out,  step 
by  step,  the  love  of  the  Spirit  in  the  work  of  the 
Spirit.  How  far  I  have  succeeded  in  restoring 
this  old  truth  to  its  original  place,  it  is  not  for  me 
to  say.  My  object  was  gained  when  it  took  its 
proper  place  in  my  own  mind  and  ministry  ;  and, 
therefore,  my  conversational  essays  on  the  sub- 
ject, are  addressed,  not  at  all  to  theologians,  as 
such,  but  entirely  to  private  Christians ;  and  thus 
they  have  no  critical  or  theological  pretensions 
whatever.  Indeed,  they  are  merely  experimental 
hints,  brought  home  to  the  bosom  and  business  of 
those  who,  like  myself,  cannot  forget,  that  unless 
we  have  "the  Spirit  of  Christ,  we  are  none  of 
his."  We  thus  require  to  see  the  love  of  the  Spi- 
rit, in  order  to  see  how  we  can  obtain  and  retain 
the  Spirit  himself,  as  proof  of  our  personal  inter- 
est in  Christ.  Tlie  hold  we  need  upon  the  power 
and  grace  of  the  Comforter,  we  can  only  get,  by 
getting  hold  of  his  love  ;  for  until  we  see  how  he 
loves  our  souls,  we  cannot  see  how  he  can  abide 
with  them,  either  as  a  consoler  or  as  a  sanctifier. 

It  has,  therefore,  been  my  sole  aim  to  engage 
the  attention  and  wm  the  confidence  of  all  who 
apply  to  themselves  the  question,  "  Have  ye  re- 
ceived the  Holy  Ghost  since  ye  believed  ?"  I 
have  tried  to  seat  myself  at  their  side,  and  to  en- 
ter into  their  difficulties,  and  to  whisper  in  their 
ear;  that  thus  they  may  judge  for  themselves, 
whilst  interchanging  experience  with  a  "brother 
and  companion,"  in  the  spiritual  tribulation  arising 
from  the  fear  of  "not  having  the  Spirit."  And 
if  I  have  ever  been  enabled  to  help  the  perplexed 
or  the  doubting,  I  would  fain  hope  that  this  Com- 
panion to  my  Experimental  Guides,  will  increase 
that  help,  as  wefl  as  confirm  it. 

Newington  Geeen,  1836. 


THE   LOVE  OF  THE    SPIRIT. 


No.  I. 

THE    LOVE   OF   THE    TRINITY   COMPARED. 

It  is  by  comparing  the  revealed  perfections  and 
works  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  that  wg  ar- 
rive at  the  sublime  conclusion,  that  these  three 
are  one  ;  the  same  in  substance  ;  equal  in  power 
and  glory.  The  mystery  of  this  fact  is  not  at  all 
increased,  nor  is  the  sublimity  lessened  at  all,  by 
the  circumstance,  tliat  less  is  said  concerning  the 
divinity  of  the  Spirit,  than  concerning  that  of  the 
Father  and  the  Son.  Tiliis  can  only  surprise  those 
who  forget  or  overlook  the  fact,  that  the  Saviour 
expressly  guarded  his  disciples  against  expecting 
much  information  from  the  Spirit  concerning  the 
nature  of  the  Spirit.  "  When  he  is  come,  he  shall 
not  speak  of  himself."  John  xvi.  13.  "  He  shall 
testify  of  Me."  John  xv.  26.  "  He  shall  glorify 
Me."  John  xvi.  14.  After  these  assurances  from 
the  lips  of  Christ,  it  is  unreasonable  to  expect  so 
many  declarations  of  the  divinity  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  as  of  the  divinity  of  the  Son  of  God.  Be- 
sides, it  is  not  the  number  of  texts,  which  proves  a 
point  of  this  kind,  but  their  explicitness.  One 
explicit  declaration  of  the  Godhead  of  the  Spirit, 
b  just  as  conclusive  as  a  thousand,  when  Scrip- 
ture is  concerned.  It  is  not,  indeed,  so  satisfactory 
to  the  eye,  nor  so  imposing  to  the  ear  in  contro- 
versy, as  a  host  of  passages ;  but  as  all  the  validity 
and  value  of  a  host  of  proofe  depends  on  their  in- 
dividual truth,  one  ought  to  be  as  decisive  as  any 
number  ;  for  if  we  cannot  depend  on  the  truth  of 
one,  many  cannot  give  us  certainty. 

I  readily  grant  that,  in  a  matter  of  such  infinite 
importance  as  the  divinity  of  any  bemg,  who  claims 
our  supreme  homage  and  confidence,  we  have  a 
right  to  know  his  title  before  we  yield  to  his 
claims.  Although,  therefore,  I  have  maintained 
the  sufficiency  and  satisfactoriness  of  even  one 
text  of  revelation  on  this  subject,  I  quite  feel  that 
it  is  natural,  and  not  unreasonable,  to  expect,  that 
such  a  truth  as  the  Godhead  of  the  holy  Spirit, 
would  be  frequently  introduced  in  Scripture.  And 
it  is  so.  His  personality  and  divine  agency  are 
not  only  imphed  in  all  the  revealed  accounts  of 
creation,  providence,  and  redemption,  but  are  also 
often  (some  hundred  times)  and  unequivocally  ex- 
pressed. In  fact,  as  much  is  revealed  concerning 
his  divinity,  as  concerning  the  divinity  of  Christ, 
although  less  is  said. 

This  is  not  a  distinction  without  a  difFerence, 
nor  without  a  cause.  Repeating  a  truth  is  not 
adding  to  its  sum  or  certainty,  however  it  may  en- 
hance its  importance  to  us.  The  divinity  of  Christ 
is  true,  not  because  it  is  often  repeated  ;  but  it  is 
often  repeated  because  the  first  mention  of  it  was 


true  ;  and  because  it  is  a  truth  of  supreme  im- 
portance ;  and  because,  in  his  case,  human  ap- 
pearance had  to  be  counterbalanced  and  counter- 
acted by  divine  declarations.  He  took  upon  him 
"  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the  hke- 
ness  of  man ;"  and,  therefore,  according  to  the 
depth  of  that  humiliation,  had  to  be  the  height  of 
the  proof  of  his  equality  with  God  ;  and  according 
to  the  number  of  his  privations  and  woes,  had  to 
be  the  number  of  distinct  attestations  to  his  origi- 
nal riches  and  glory.  But  in  the  case  of  the  holy 
Spirit,  his  advent  involved  nothing  which  veiled 
his  glory,  or  contrasted  with  his  godhead,  or  seem- 
ed to  contradict  his  claims  ;  and,  therefore,  as  no 
counterbalance  was  wanted,  none  was  given. — 
Enough  was  said  to  declare  him  to  be  the  eternal 
Spirit :  and,  in  order  to  prove  the  supreme  im- 
portance of  this  truth,  his  divine  agency  runs 
through  the  whole  fabric  of  divine  truth,  and  is  so 
interwoven  with  the  entire  Scriptures,  that  it  can- 
not be  separated  from  them  without  tearing  them 
to  pieces. 

I  would  not  have  touched  this  subject  at  all, 
had  I  not  felt  it  necessary  to  justify  my  attempt  at 
a  comparison  between  the  love  of  the  Father,  Son, 
and  Spirit,  in  redemption  ;  for  it  is  quite  unneces- 
sary to  multiply  books  upon  the  divinity  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  "  What  can  the  man  do  who  cometh 
after  (Owen)  the  king,"  except  to  simplify  or 
condense  1  My  simpler  object  is,  to  compare  the 
love  of  the  Trinity,  just  as  others  have  compared 
the  natural  perfections  of  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Spirit ;  in  order  that  their  equably  in  love  may  be 
as  familiar  as  the  unity  of  their  essence.  And 
there  is  need  of  this  argument :  for,  although  no 
Trinitarian  would  hesitate  for  a  moment  to  say, 
that  the  Spirit  as  well  as  the  Father,  "is  love;" 
nor  to  add,  that  the  persons  of  the  Godhead  must 
be  as  much  one  in  heart  as  in  glory ;  yet,  no  wri- 
ter, that  I  know  of,  dwells  with  complacency,  or 
appeals  with  triumph,  or  argues  with  power,  on 
theloveof  the  Spirit.  Christ  does  so.  The  apos- 
tles do  so.  And  Owen  evidently  saw  and  felt  the 
capabilities  and  claims  of  the  subject.  In  general, 
however,  theologians  do  not.  They  content  them- 
selves with  taking  it  for  granted ;  and  thus  leave 
the  fact  in  an  abstract  or  indefinite  form,  which 
neither  touches  the  heart,  nor  tells  upon  the  cha- 
racter of  plain  Christians.  Indeed,  many  of  the 
serious  "  suffer  loss,"  through  this  inadvertency. 
They  are  somewhat  afraid  of  the  Spirit.  I  mean, 
they  do  not  see  that  his  heart  is  as  warm,  and  his 
hand  as  willing,  to  do  his  work  in  redemption,  as 
the  heart  and  hand  of  the  Father  and  the  Son 
were  to  do  their  part.  They  have  thus  less  confi- 
dence in  the  Spirit,  and  less  love  to  him,  than  to- 
wards God  and  the  Lamb.  They  do  not,  however, 

(5) 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


give  less  attention  to  him.  Happily  that  is  pre- 
vented ;  our  theology,  both  from  tlie  pulpit  and  the 
press,  being  rich,  beyond  comparison,  in  glorious 
exhibitions  of  the  necessity,  the  fulness,  and  the 
freeness  of  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Both 
the  lesser  and  the  greater  stars  of  evangelism  are 
all  culminating  in  the  grand  scriptural  point,  that 
the  influences  of  the  Spirit  are  just  as/ree  as  they 
are  necessasy,  and  as  accessible  as  they  are  indis- 
pensable. This  is  as  it  should  be.  And  nothing 
is  wanted  in  order  to  complete  this  "  demonstra- 
tion of  the  Spirit,"  but  to  enshrine  and  crown  it 
with  the  wonders  of  liis  love.  That,  I  am  quite 
miequal  even  to  attempt :  because  my  own  mind 
can  only  deal  with  an  individual  mind,  and  not 
with  a  general  subject,  in  religion.  I  never  could 
theologize  nor  generalize  at  all,  apart  from  trying 
to  carry  a  practical  or  experimental  point,  with  a 
supposed  person,  to  whom  I  write,  just  what  I 
should  say  in  conversation.  I  am,  however,  on 
this  occasion,  more  than  usually  reconciled  to  this 
weakness  or  defect  of  my  own  mind  ;  because 
my  conversational  hints  upon  the  love  of  the 
Spirit,  will  in  no  wise  forestall  the  subject ;  but 
may,  perhaps,  create  a  taste  for  it  in  the  circle  of 
my  "guides"  and  "closet  library;"  and  thus 
help,  at  least,  to  call  forth  some  "  Master  of  Is- 
rael," to  complete  our  theology,  on  the  doctrine  of 
"The  Comforter."  Why  does  not  the  author  of 
"  The  Official  Glory  of  the  Son  of  God,"  bring 
out  that  of  the  Spirit  ? 

Having  thus  stated  how  the  subject  stands  at 
present,  I  proceed  in  my  own  way.  Did  you  ever 
notice  the  emphatic  brevity  of  apostolic  language, 
when  divine  love  is  the  subject  ]  "  God  is  love," 
says  John.  "  The  love  of  Christ  passeth  know- 
ledge," says  Paul.  With  the  same  sublime  brevi- 
ty, Paul  says,  "  I  beseech  you  by  the  love  of  the 
Spirit."  Thus  in  all  the  three  instances,  we  are 
evidently  thrown  upon  a  fact,  which  words  cannot 
express,  and  which  needs  no  epithets  to  commend 
it.  Accordingly,  it  is  always  illustrated  by  otjier 
facts,  and  not  by  descriptive  words.  Thus,  when 
John  says,  "  God  is  love,"  he  immediately  adds, — 
"  In  this  was  the  love  of  God  manifest  towards  us, 
because  God  sent  liis  only-begotten  Son  into  the 
world,  that  we  might  live  through  him.  Herein  is 
love,  not  that  we  loved  God,  but  that  he  loved  us, 
and  sent  his  Son  to  be  tlie  propitiation  for  our 
sins."  1  .John  iii.8.  Here  facts  are  every  thing, 
and  pliraseology  is  nothing  but  the  bare  statement 
of  them.  Thus  also  Paul  writes,  when  illustrating 
the  love  of  Christ,  "He  loved  me,  and  gave  him- 
self for  me."  Gal.  ii.  20.  "  He  loved  us,  and 
washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood,"  says 
John,  to  the  seven  churches  in  Asia.  Rev.  i.  5. 
Even  in  heaven,  the  language  of  eternit}',  either 
does  not  supply  descriptive  words  to  saints  or  an- 
gels, or  they  prefer  ficts,  in  celebrating  the  love 
of  Clu-ist ;  for  there  are  no  epithets  in  the  new 
song:  "Thou  art  worthy;  for  thou  wast  slain, 
and  hast  redeemed  us  to  God  by  thy  blood."  Rev. 
V.  9. 

Now  exactly  in  this  way,  or  by  facts,  and  not 
by  descriptions,  is  the  love  of  the  Spirit  illustrated 
iri  Scripture.  When  Paul  pleaded  with  the  Ro- 
mans by  "  the  love  of  the  Spirit,"  he  had  just  be- 
fore reminded  them,  that  "  the  Spirit  helpeth  our 
infirmities,  and  rnaketh  intercession   for  us"  in 


prayer ,  that  the  Spirit  "  led"  the  children  of 
God,  "  dwelt  in"  them,  and  "  witnessed"  with  their 
spirit  to  their  adoption.  Rora.  viii.  In  like  man- 
ner, when  the  Saviour  commended  the  Spirit  to 
the  confidence  of  the  church,  as  "  another  Com- 
forter," it  was  not  by  eulogizing  or  explaining  his 
love,  but  by  stating  what  he  would  do  when  he 
came :  the  Comforter  shall  lead  you  into  all  truth ; 
shall  bring  all  things  to  your  remembrance  ;  shall 
abide  with  you  for  ever. 

Thus,  it  is  not  from  words,  but  from  his  toorks, 
that  the  love  of  the  Spirit  should  be  estimated, 
when  it  is  brought  into  comparison  with  the  love 
of  the  Father,  or  the  love  of  the  Son :  nor  is  it 
any  valid  objection  against  the  equality  of  their 
love  to  the  world  and  the  church,  that  there  is  no 
suffering,  nor  any  humiliation,  in  the  whole  history 
of  the  Spirit's  love.  This  is  equally  true  of  the 
Father's  love.  That  too  involved  no  suffering  nor 
privation  :  but  no  one  doubts,  on  this  account,  the 
reality,  the  greatness,  or  the  strength  of  the  love 
of  God.  No  one  suspects  it  of  being  at  all  less 
than  the  love  of  Christ,  because  Paul  does  not  say 
of  it,  as  of  Christ's,  that  it  "  passeth  knowledge." 
The  absence,  therefore,  of.^his  epithet  in  his  ap- 
peal to  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  impHes  no  inferiority 
in  that  love.  In  a  word,  its  measure  is  to  be  found 
in  what  the  Spirit  does,  just  as  the  measure  of  the 
Father's  love  is  to  be  found  in  what  he  gave,  and 
the  measure  of  the  Son's  love,  in  what  he  en- 
dured. 

Let  us  then  contemplate  the  love  of  the  Father. 
It  is  amazing !  But  for  it,  there  would  have  been 
no  Redeemer,  no  Sanctifier;  and,  therefore,  no 
salvation  on  earth,  just  as  there  is  none  in  hell. 
The  love  of  God  is,  therefore,  the  real  and  original 
fountain  from  which  all  the  streams  of  mercy  and 
grace  flow  to  us,  in  a  river  of  the  water  of  life. 
That  river  could  flow,  however,  only  upon  chan- 
nels of  "  everlasting  righteousness,"  or  in  full  con- 
sistency with  law  and  justice  ;  and  nothing  but 
the  atonement  of  Christ  could  be  such  an  honor- 
able medium.  Divine  love  could  become  re- 
deeming love,  only  by  a  sacrifice  which  magnified 
the  law,  and  glorified  the  divine  character.  The 
love  of  God  is  not,  therefore,  irrespective  of  the 
work  of  Christ.  It  both  required  and  provided  an 
atonement,  to  legitimate  and  charter  the  reign  of 
grace  in  the  divine  government.  And  all  this  the 
death  of  Christ  did. 

Law  and  justice  were  not,  however,  all  that  had 
to  be  satisfied  and  glorified  in  the  highest,  before 
divine  love  could  become  redeeming  love,  honora- 
bly and  consistently.  Holiness,  also,  had  to  be 
satisfied,  and  magnified,  and  glorified  in  the  high- 
est ;  and  that  could  only  be  done  by  making  the 
redeemed  holy,  or  the  pardoned  perfect. 

Here  there  was  room — occasion — necessity,  for 
the  love  of  the  Spirit.  The  saved  had  to  be 
sanctified  on  earth,  and  perfected  for  heaven  :  and 
what  but  love — infinite  love — could  have  led  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  undertake  the  sanctification  of  the 
Church,  which  Christ  purchased  with  his  own 
blood?  This  he  did  undertake;  and  he  will  so 
consummate  its  perfection,  that  divine  Holiness 
shall  be  as  much  satisfied  and  glorified  with  the 
eventual  purity  of  the  redeemed,  as  justice  is  with 
their  escape,  or  law  with  their  acquittal.  If, 
therefore,  the  love  of  God  passeth  knowledge,  m 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


pitying  our  misery  as  sinners,  and  in  bringing  all 
his  sympathies  to  bear  honorably  and  effectually 
upon  our  salvation,  is  not  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  in 
pitying  both  our  weakess  and  depravity,  and  in 
bringing  all  his  grace  and  strength  to  bear  upon 
our  nieetness  for  heaven,  love  that  passeth  know- 
ledge in  its  warmth  and  wonders  !  Where  is  the 
difference,  between  the  love  which  ^is  sinners  for 
heaven,  and  the  love  which  opened  heaven,  by  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb  1     Both  are  infinite  ! 

Let  us  now  contemplate  the  love  of  Christ.    If 
the  comparison   fail  at  all,  it  will  fail  here.     It 
shall  not  succeed,  however,  by  any  forcing  or  stra- 
tagem on   my   part.     It  will   fail   unnecessarily, 
however,  if  you   determine  to  think  only  of  the 
sufferings  of  Christ;  for  as  there  was  no  penal 
tests  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  there  can,  of  course, 
be   no  comparison  on  this  point.     Christ  stands 
alone,  in  all  the  glory  of  suffering  and  dying  love  ! 
The  Father's  love  endured  nothing  penal  or  pain- 
ful, for  the  world  or  the  church.     That  it  would, 
however,  have  done  so,  had  any  paternal  suffer-  j 
ing  been  either  proper  or  necessary,  we  can  hard-  j 
ly  doubt.  Well ;  why  not  judge  in  this  way  of  the  I 
love  of  the  Spirit  also  ?     There  was  no  more  oc-  i 
casion  for  him  to  suffer  at  all,  in  proof  of  his  love, 
than  for  the  Father  to  do  so  in  proof  of  his  love. 
Doing  any  thmg  unnecessary,  is  not  a  demonstra- 
tion of  love.     Doing  what  is  ivanted  most  is  the 
demonstration  of  that ;  and  nothing  of  suffering 
was  wanted,  in  order  to  atone,  when  the  sacri- 
fice  of  Christ   was   finished.     His   love   left   no 
room  in  Gethsemane,  or  on  Calvary,  for  the  love  of  I 
the  Father  or  of  the  Spirit  to  redeem  by  price ;  ! 
because    he   left  no  drop  in   the   cup   of  wrath, 
shrunk  from  no  stroke  of  the  sword  of  justice,  and 
refused  no  demand  of  the  law.     So  far,  therefore, 
the  love  of  the  Father,  and  the  love  of  the  Spirit, 
stand  in  the  same  light  and  relation  to  redemption 
by  price. 

You  are  prepared  to  go  a  step  farther  towards  a 
comparison,  now  that  you  see  how  the  facts  stand. 
The  real  question  is  now, — what  was  wanted,  after 
Christ  finished  his  atoning  work?  There  was 
his  sacrifice — perfect,  all  sufficient,  and  glorious ! 
Nothing  could  be  added  to  its  merits,  or  its  effica- 
cy, or  its  acceptableness,  before  God,  as  a  ransom 
for  souls.  But  still,  around  that  sacrifice,  when 
it  was  "  finished,"  stood  a  world,  yea,  a  church, 
which  knew  neither  its  merits  nor  its  meaning  ; 
and  which  never  could  have  understood  them,  had 
not  the  Spirit  explained  them  ;  and  never  would 
have  employed  them,  had  he  not  applied  them. 
Thus,  although  tlie  fountain  for  sin  and  unclean- 
ness  was  opened  by  the  death  of  Christ,  tliere 
were  none  to  wash  their  robes  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb,  until  tlie  love  of  the  Spirit  enlightened  and 
led  them.  But  for  his  love,  therefore,  the  love  of 
Christ  would  have  remained  unappreciated  and 
unknown,  both  to  the  world  and  the  church.  But 
for  what  the  Spirit  did,  all  that  Christ  endured 
would  have  had  no  saving  effect  upon  man  on  earth, 
although  its  instantaneous  effect  in  heaven,  was 
the  confirmation  of  all  the  angels  in  their  holiness, 
and  the  ratification  of  all  the  salnis  in  their  hap- 
piness,  and  the  complacent  "  rest  of  God"  in  his 
love.  O,  surely,  if  God  is  love  because  he  so 
loved  the  world  as  to  give  his  Son  to  be  the  pro- 
pitiation  for  our  sins,  the  Spirit  must  be  love  also, 
ee  (V:,) 


in  the  same  sense,  and  to  the  same  degree ;  see- 
ing he  gave  all  the  light  which  revealed  that  "un- 
speakable gift,"  and  all  the  will  and  power  by 
which  any  and  every  sinner  applies  to  the  Saviour. 
The  Son  is  thus  as  much  the  free  and  unspeaka- 
ble gift  of  the  Spirit  to  individuals,  as  he  was  the 
gift  of  God  to  the  world. 

It  is  desirable  on  this  subject,  that  our  thoughts 
and  feelings  should  run  occasionally  in  the  same 
channel,  and  at  the  same  rate  they  do,  Avhen  we 
realize  to  ourselves  vividly  what  must  have  been 
the  condition  of  the  world,  had  no  Christ  un- 
dertaken its  cause.  In  that  case,  the  world  would 
either  have  been  another  hell,  or  the  gate  of 
"  the  place  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels  ;" 
conscience  would  have  had  no  peace,  and  hope 
no  anchor  ;  hfe  no  charms,  and  death  no  antidote  : 
for  man  could  not  have  been  even  what  heathen 
man  is,  either  in  condition  or  character,  had  there 
not  been  a  mediator  between  God  and  man  from 
the  very  moment  of  the  fall.  No  ;  even  the  hea- 
then are  not  a  specimen  of  what  the  world  would 
have  been  "  without  Christ :"  for,  bad  and  abo- 
minable as  idolatry  is,  it  has  some  moral  laws,  and 
proclaims  some  hopes,  however  vague  or  fallacious ; 
whereas,  there  would  have  been  nothing  but  "  a 
fearful  looking  for  of  judgment  and  fiery  indigna- 
tion"  every  where  on  earth,  as  every  where  in  hell, 
had  not  Christ  interfered  on  our  behalf.  This  fact, 
in  common  with  many  others,  renders  the  love  of 
Christ  unspeakable. 

Well ;  just  ask  yourself,  what  would  the  world 
have  been  without  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ? 
I  will  not  allow  myself  to  answer  this  question,  by 
supposing  the  worst.  Say,  if  you  will,  that  we 
should  have  gone  all  the  length  in  morals  and 
hope,  which  they  reach  who  resist  the  Spirit.  It 
certainly  would  have  been  something,  to  have  even 
a  form  of  godliness,  and  a  ceremonial  of  worship, 
and  a  theory  of  Christianity.  These,  without  the 
Spirit,  are  useful.  Christianity,  however  nominal, 
exalts  the  character  of  nations ;  and  however 
corrupted,  is  still  the  most  powerful  check  upon 
immorality.  But  what  is  civilization  or  morality, 
were  they  even  universal,  whilst  the  heart  is  un- 
changed, and  heaven  not  desired,  and  God  not 
loved,  and  the  Saviour  not  prized  ?  All  this — 
would  have  been  the  case,  every  where  and  all 
along,  had  not  the  Spirit  loved  the  world,  and 
sanctified  the  church ! 

These  hints  do  not,  I  am  aware,  call  up  a  horrid 
scene  before  the  imagination :  it  is,  however,  an 
appalling  scene  to  a  sober  mind.  Only  think! — 
had  all  churches  in  all  ages  been  churches  only  in 
name;  all  ministers  mere  functionaries  tor  hire; 
all  Christians  mere  formalists ;  then,  all  hope 
would  have  been  delusion :  all  faith  presumption  ; 
all  death  damnation !  This  has  not  been  the  case. 
But  why  ?  No  church  would  ever  have  become 
spiritual,  by  its  own  power  or  choice.  No  man  could 
have  become  wise  unto  salvation,  by  unaided  ef- 
forts, however  arduous.  No  sufferer  could  have 
extracted  solid  comfort  from  the  promises,  by  mere 
pondering  What  do  we  not  owe  to  the  love  oi 
the  Spirit !  But  for  that,  tlie  thief  saved  on 
Calvary  would  have  been  the  onh/  tro|jhy  of  Ihe 
cross  of  Christ.  Yes  ;  Paradise  might  have  been 
barred  at  once  and  for  ever,  when  lie  entered  :  for, 
without  Uie  Spirit,  no  man,  afterward,  cguld  either 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


have  gloried  in  the  cross,  or  understood  it.  O,  if 
we  love  Christ,  the  love  of  the  Spirit  to  us,  should 
be  an  inspiring  theme  1  It  is,  remember,  a  part 
of  the  greatness  of  the  great  mystery  of  godli- 
ness, that  Christ  was  "justified  by  the  Spirit." 
Yes  ;  had  not  tlie  Spirit  justified  the  claims  of  the 
Saviour,  by  clearing  up  the  glory  of  his  person 
and  work  ;  and  endeared  him,  by  applying  his  sa- 
crifice and  grace,  even  his  disciples  could  not  have 
done  so,  and  we  should  not  have  attempted  it.  I 
have  been  chiefly  influenced  and  regulated  in 
these  hints,  by  the  ^iress  which  the  Saviour  him- 
self laid  upon  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He 
had,  evidently,  as  nmch  reference  to  it,  in  dying 
for  us,  as  the  Father  had  to  him  in  pardoning. 

Consider  this  fact.  You  say,  and  justly,  that 
but  for  the  love  of  Christ  in  dying  for  us,  the  pa- 
ternal love  of  God  could  not  have  saved  us,  con- 
sistently with  all  the  perfections  of  the  divine 
character  and  government.  Now,  this  is  no  re- 
Heciion  upon  the  love  of  God.  It  is,  in  fact,  the 
very  glory  of  his  love,  that  it  thus  required  to  be 
in  full  and  everlating  harmony  with  all  righteous- 
ness. Well ;  in  this  perfect  harmony  with  eternal 
rectitude,  the  love  of  Christ  placed  the  love  of 
God  :  and  just  so,  did  the  love  of  the  Spirit  place 
the  love  of  Christ.  For,  it  is  the  very  glory  of 
the  Saviour's  redeeming  love,  that  it  depended  as 
much  on  the  sanctifying  love  of  the  Spirit,  as  the 
paternal  love  of  God  did  on  the  blood  of  the  lamb. 
Without  the  work  of  the  Son  as  a  mediator,  the 
Father  could  not  have  honorably  become  our 
Father ;  and  without  the  work  of  the  Spirit  as  a 
sanctifier,  the  Son  could  not  have  honorably  be- 
come our  mediator.  Christ  himself,  therefore, 
looked  as  much  to  what  the  love  of  the  Spirit 
would  do  for  us,  as  God  looks  to  what  Christ  has 
done  for  us.  Thus,  as  our  redemption  by  price 
required  the  death  of  Christ,  so  our  redemption  by 
pov^er  required  the  agency  of  the  Spirit. 

These  remarks  are,  I  am  aware,  but  general,  if 
not  somewhat  vague.  They  are  purposely  very 
general ;  because  the  love  of  the  Spirit  is  traced, 
in  this  little  volume,  throughout  all  the  work  of 
the  Spirit,  from  its  beginning  as  the  good  work  of 
grace,  on  to  its  consummation  in  glory.  I  con- 
clude this  essay,  therefore,  by  remindmg  you  that 
the  love  of  the  Trinity,  although  not  brought  into 
competition,  is  so  far  brought  into  comparison  in 
Scripture,  that  the  name  of  Father,  Son,  and  Spi- 
rit, is  equally  connected  with  baptism,  and  equally 
associated  in  the  benediction  upon  the  churches ; 
and  in  heaven,  the  Spirit  appears  as  "  seven  spi- 
rits before  the  throne,"  that  we  may  know  and 
acknowledge  the  all-perfect  Godhead  of  his  na- 
ture, and  the  all-suflicient  power  and  freeness  of 
his  grace.     Rev.  i. 

Who  can  read  the  following  passage  fi-om  Dr. 
Owen,  without  regretting  that  his  purpose  was  "to 
number  rather  than  to  unfold"  the  actings  of  the 
Spirit?  "The  principle  or  fountain  of  all  his  act- 
ings for  our  consolation,  is  his  own  great  love  and 
infinite  condescension.  He  willingly  proceedeth, 
or  comes  forth  from  the  Father,  to  be  our  com- 
forter. He  knew  what  we  were,  and  what  we 
could  do,  and  what  would  be  our  dealings  with 
him.  He  knew  we  would  grieve  him,  provoke 
him,  quench  his  motions,  defile  his  dwelling-place ; 
and  yet  he  would  come  to  be  our  comforter  ! 


"  Want  of  a  due  consideration  of  this  great  love 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  weakens  all  the  principles  of 
our  obedience.  We  lose  both  the  power  and 
pleasure  of  our  obedience  for  want  of  this  consi- 
deration. Let  the  soul  lay  due  weight  on  it :  'The 
Holy  Ghost,  in  his  infinite  love  and  kindness  to- 
wards me,  hath  condescended  to  be  rny  Comfort- 
er. He  doth  it  willingly,  freely,  powerfully! — 
What  have  I  received  from  him?  In  the  multi- 
tude of  my  perplexities,  how  hath  he  refreshed 
my  soul  !  Can  I  live  one  day  without  his  conso- 
lations ?  And  shall  I  grieve  him  by  negligence, 
sin,  or  folly  ?  Shall  not  his  love  constrain  me  to 
walk  before  him  in  all  well  pleasing  V  " — Owen  on 
Communion  with  God,  3d  Pari. 


No.  XL 


THE   LOVE   OF    THE   SPIRIT   IN   CONVERSION. 

"  The  work  of  Christ,  and  the  work  of  the  Spirit," 
says  Dr.  Wardlaw,  "are  nmtually  necessary  to 
each  other's  efficacy  and  are  thus  both  alike  in- 
dispensable to  the  salvation  of  the  sinner.  With- 
out the  work  of  Christ,  the  Spirit  would  want  the 
means  or  the  instrument  of  his  operation  ;  and 
without  the  work  of  the  Spirit  these  means  would 
remain  inefficacious  and  fruitless.  Without  the 
work  of  Christ,  there  would  not  have  been,  for  any 
sinner,  a  foundation  of  hope  towards  God ;  with- 
out the  work  of  the  Spirit,  no  sinner  would  have 
been  induced  to  buUd  upon  this  foundation.  Christ 
has  opened  the  way  of  access  to  God ; — the  Spi- 
rit brings  sinners  to  God  in  the  way  which  Christ 
has  opened." 

This  bringing  of  sinners  to  God,  by  "  the  new  and 
living  way"  opened  by  Christ,  is  conversion. — 
None  are  brouglit,  nigh  unto  God,  nor  turned  from 
the  error  of  their  ways,  by  the  power  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  but  those  who  are  led  "  in  the  way  ever- 
lasting ;"  or,  as  Paul  expresses  the  transition  from 
the  broad  to  the  narrow  way,  "made  nigh  by  the 
blood  of  Christ."  Without  this,  there  may  be  de- 
partures from  sin,  and  approaches  to  righteous- 
ness, in  soiue  things,  and  for  a  short  time ;  but, 
without  this  there  is  no  saving  conversion.  The 
heart,  until  affected  by  the  cross,  does  not  follow 
the  feet,  however  fast  or  far  they  may  run  in  the 
path  of  general  duty,  by  the  impulse  of  ordinary 
motives. 

You  have,  no  doubt,  observed  and  felt  this. — 
Perhaps  you  can  recollect  instances  in  your  own 
history,  when  you  made  considerable  improve- 
ments in  your  conduct,  and  resolved  to  make  still 
greater ;  but  neither  with  good-will.  It  was  com- 
pulsion, not  choice  ;  fear,  and  not  love,  which  pro- 
duced these  reformations.  Had  they  even  been 
greater,  therefore,  and  all  lasting,  they  were  desti- 
tute of  the  very  first  principle  of  true  religion, 
good-will.  Forced  or  slavish  obedience  is  not 
service  rendered  to  God,  but  a  tax  paid  to  the 
conscience  to  moderate  its  uneasiness. 

What  a  mercy  it  is,  that  the  gospel  contains 
and  presents  motives  which  can  win  the  heart  as 
effectually  as  the  law  can  work  upon  the  con- 
science !  Were  not  this  the  case,  we  should  ne- 
ver yield  to  God  any  cheerful  or  willing  obedience, 
and  thus  never  please  or  be  pleased :  for,  as  it  is 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


impossible  to  please  God  at  all  "without  faith"  in 
Christ,  so  it  is  impossible  to  find  pleasure  long  in 
works  without  faith. 

Well ;  if  you  are  thankful  that  Christ  is  « the 
way"  to  the  Father,  you  ought  to  bo  equally 
thankful  that  the  Holy  Spirit  is  the  guide  to  and 
tn  that  way.  Did  you  ever  pause  to  consider  how 
much  love  the  Spirit  displays  in  thus  leading  sin- 
ners to  God  by  Christ  ?  It  is  worthy  of  your  spe- 
cial notice  and  gratitude.  It  will  not  divert  nor 
divide  your  attention  from  the  love  of  God  in  giv- 
ing his  Son,  nor  from  the  love  of  Christ  in  giving 
himself,  for  us.  It  will  increase  your  love  to  God 
and  to  the  Lamb,  to  trace  the  love  of  the  Spirit  as 
that  shines  in  the  conversion  of  sinners. 

Now  there  is  no  conversion  from  sin  until  there 
be  conviction  of  sin  :  and  there  is  no  conviction  of 
sin,  which  tends  to  Christ  or  to  holiness,  but  that 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  implants  in  the  soul.  Thus, 
there  is  great  love  even  in  the  severest  part  and 
form  of  the  work  of  the  Spirit. 

We  forget  this,  or  overlook  it,  whilst  conscience 
is  either  as  unquenchable  fire,  or  as  a  gnawing 
worm,  within  us.  Such  convictions  seem,  then, 
to  be  sent  in  judicial  anger,  not  in  judicious  love. 
It  is,  however,  in  love,  that  they  are  sent:  wit- 
ness the  design  of  them  at  Pentecost.  Had  not 
Peter's  audience  been  cut  to  the  heart,  they  would 
not  have  cried  out  for  mercy,  much  less  have  look- 
ed to  Christ  for  it. 

Natural  conviction,  however  strong,  never  looks 
to  the  cross  ;  nor,  when  very  strong,  ventures  to 
hope  or  pray  for  mercy.  It  is  supernatural  when- 
ever it  tries  to  relieve  itself  at  the  feet  of  the  Sa- 
viour. It  is  sent  in  love,  whenever  it  sends  us  to 
the  gospel  to  search  for  hope,  or  to  the  mercy-seat 
to  seek  for  hope,  or  to  the  cross  to  wait  for  hope. 
Conviction  is  then  the  Spirit  wounding,  that  he 
may  heal ;  casting  down,  that  he  may  lift  up  again. 
It  is  evidently  his  work  even  when  there  is  only  a 
desire  for  salvatian  ;  and  although  the  way  of  sal- 
vation be  almost  unknown  at  first.  Accordingly, 
both  Peter  and  Paul  recognised,  in  that  trembling 
inquiry,  "What  shall  we  do?"  the  quickening 
power  of  the  Spirit.  Neither  the  Jews  at  Pente- 
cost, nor  the  jailer  at  Philippi,  knew  what  to  do 
when  they  were  awakened  to  a  sense  of  their 
guilt  and  danger.  The  sacred  fire  that  inflamed 
their  conscience  did  not  enlighten  their  under- 
standing equally  at  the  same  time.  It  only  re- 
vealed danger,  and  originated  the  desire  to  escape, 
in  the  first  instance ;  and  did  not  shed  guiding 
light  nor  cheering  warmth  upon  any  mind,  until 
the  apostles  proceeded  to  unfold  "  the  fulness  of 
the  blessing  of  the  gospel." 

Here,  if  any  where,  we  may  learn  to  distinguish 
between  natural  conscience,  and  supernatural  con-  ' 
viction.  The  latter  (as  might  be  expected)  is  not  ] 
reckless  nor  desperate,  even  when  most  over-  ' 
whelming.  The  sinner  quickened  by  the  Spirit, ' 
may  see  no  way  of  escape  at  first ;  but  he  desires  1 
one,  and  is  looking  and  inquiring  for  one.  He  | 
may  have  no  hope  for  a  time ;  but  he  wishes  to  | 
hope.  Like  .Jeremiah's  penitent,  he  is  wiUing  to  ! 
"put  his  mouth  in  the  dust,  if  so  be  there  may  be  i 
hope."  In  a  word,  his  sufferings  do  not  irritate 
his  spirit  against  God.  The  agony  of  his  con-  \ 
science  does  not  harden  his  heart.  There  may  j 
be  a  passing  thought,  or  a  momentary  feeling  of  a  ' 


dark  and  desperate  character ;  but  neither  is  in- 
dulged or  welcomed.    Both  are  dreaded  and  hated. 

This  is  not  the  case  with  mere  conscience, 
when  it  breaks  loose  upon  a  sinner.  It  can  sear 
as  it  suffers,  just  as  some  sores  mortify  as  they 
spread;  or  it  can  madden  against  God  and  man, 
untd  the  opinion  of  both  is  despised,  and  the  pow- 
er of  both  defied.  Such  reckless  remorse  ought 
not  to  be  ascribed  to  the  strivings  of  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit.  It  is  not,  indeed,  natural  nor  common  for  even 
a  very  guilty  conscience,  to  make  a  man  a  terror 
to  himself,  or  to  those  around  him.  Indeed,  this 
occurs  so  seldom,  that  it  has  been  the  chief  cause 
of  confounding  natural  and  supernatural  convic- 
tion. It  is  so  very  rare,  to  find  even  a  very  wick- 
ed man  trembling  or  despairing;  and  so  common 
to  see  many  as  wicked  as  he  is,  yet  quite  fearless, 
that  Christians  iiave  been  tempted  by  the  anoma- 
ly, to  ascribe  all  awakenings  of  conscience  to  the 
work  of  the  Spirit. 

This  may  be  well  meant ;  but  it  is  ill  judged. — 
All  the  conviction  wrought  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  is 
intended  to  "  glorify"  Christ,  by  rendering  his  pre- 
cious blood,  precious  in  the  sinner's  estimation  : 
and,  therefore,  all  hardening  horrors,  and  all  ter- 
ror which  has  no  tendency  towards  the  cross  or 
the  mercy-seat,  should  either  be  left  altogether 
une.xplained,  or  referred  to  any  thing  but  the 
agency  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  for  he  can  have  no- 
thing to  do  with  the  production  of  alarm,  which 
either  steels  the  heart  against  God,  or  drives  the 
soul  away  from  the  Saviour.  It  is  "the  sorrow 
of  the  world,"  and  not  "godly  sorrow,"  that  work- 
eth  death  and  despair,  in  every  instance,  where 
there  is  no  insanity  :  and  whenever  there  is  rea- 
son to  suspect  insanity,  (of  which  vice  is  not  the 
cause,)  there  is  no  reason  for  putting  a  harsh  con- 
struction even  upon  despair  itself. 

These  distinctions  ought  not  to  be  lost  sight 
of:  and  yet,  they  ought  not  to  be  hastily  appUed. 
The  first  aspect  of  an  av>-akened  conscience,  how- 
ever awful,  should  not  be  treated  as  mere  re- 
morse. The  Spirit,  as  in  the  case  of  the  jailer, 
may  have  much  to  do  with  convictions,  which,  at 
first,  are  altogether  terrific,  and  almost  desperate. 
He  had,  of  course,  nothing  to  do  with  the  rash- 
ness of  the  jailer;  but  he  evidently  had  much  to 
do  with  the  "trembling,"  which  followed  it. — 
Whilst  the  jailer  drew  his  sword  to  kill  himself, 
the  Holy  Spirit  was  certainly  not  convincing  him 
of  sin :  but  when  he  called  for  a  light,  and  sprang 
in  trembling"  and  inquiring,  Paul  treated  him  as 
a  man  quickened  by  divine  power.  However, 
therefore,  an  awakening  may  open,  or  express  it- 
self, for  a  time,  it  ought  to  be  met  promptly,  fully, 
and  even  kindly,  by  the  glad  tidings  of  a  free  sal- 
vation ;  and  never  reckoned  mere  remorse,  until  it 
has  defeated  all  the  means  of  grace. 

If  these  hints  throw  any  hght  upon  the  way  in 
which  we  should  judge  and  act  in  the  case  of 
others,  they  throw  still  more  light  upon  our  own 
convictions,  of  the  evil  and  danger  of  sin.  These 
are  more  than  natural,  yea,  more  than  providen- 
tial, if  they  have  either  endeared  the  Saviour  to 
us,  or  led  us  to  pray  fervently  for  an  interest  in 
his  atonement  and  intercession.  Convictions 
which  lead  to  this,  are  the  leadings  of  the  Spirit ; 
and  all  in  love,  however  painful  they  may  be. — 
Had  the  "  hold"  which  the  angel  took  of  Lot,  left 


10 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT, 


its  marks  upon  Lot,  lie  certainly  would  not  have 
thought  it  too  hard,  when  he  saw  the  fire  burst 
on  Sodom,  and  found  himself  safe  in  Zoar.  It 
was  the  gTasjj  of  an  angel's  hand ;  firm,  because 
friendly ;  and  unrelaxing,  because  resolved  to  save. 
Well,  therefore,  may  we  trace  to  the  love  of 
the  Spirit,  any  and  every  conviction,  which  drew 
our  attention  to  the  love  of  Christ.  Well,  may 
we  sing,  however  we  have  smarted, 

"  Eternal  Spirit,  we  confess, 
And  sing  the  wonders  of  thy  grace." 

Another  signal  proof  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit  in 
conversion,  is,  that  he  convinces  chiefly  of  the 
sin  of  UNBELIEF.  Remember  the  Saviour's  own 
account  of  this  characteristic  feature  of  the  work 
of  the  Spirit :  "  When  he  is  come,  he  shall  re- 
prove the  world  of  sin  :  of  sin,  because  they  be- 
lieve not  in  me."  This  being  the  point  on  which 
the  Holy  Spirit  chiefly  plies  tiie  conscience,  the 
Saviour  does  not  hesitate  to  call  him  "the  Com- 
forter," even  whilst  he  is  only  convincing  of  sin. 
Conviction,  like  affliction,  is,  indeed,  any  thing  but 
comfort  in  itself;  it  "is  not  joyous,  but  grievous  ; 
nevertheless,  afterward,  it  yieldelh  the  peaceable 
fruits  of  righteousness  unto  them  who  are  exer- 
cised thereby."  Thus,  although  not  comfort,  it 
is  preparation  for  it,  and  the  only  way  to  it. 

This  is  no;,  however,  the  most  striking  fact  of 
the  case.  There  is  love — love,  wonderful  in  its 
tenderness  and  strength,  in  thus  making  unbelief 
the  point  at  which  his  sword  pierces  deepest  and 
oftenest.  We  could  not  bear  its  "  piercing,  to  the 
dividing  asunder  of  soul  and  spirit,  and  of  the 
joints  and  marrow,"  in  the  case  of  any  other  sin. 
No  human  mind  could  sustain  a  full  discovery  of 
the  entire  evil  of  sin,  either  as  it  affects  the 
whole  character  and  government  of  God,  or  as  it 
entails  misery  on  others.  Nothing  but  the  two- 
fold iinmortality  of  soul  and  body  conjoined,  could 
endure  to  see  how  one  sin  can  perpetuate  itself 
along  all  the  line  of  a  man's  posterity,  unto  the 
very  end  of  time  ;  and  run  its  consequences,  even 
in  a  visible  stream,  through  the  bottomless  pit  for 
ever  !  I  doubt  very  much,  if  there  be  one  man  or 
woman  on  earth,  who  could  bear  to  see  the  influ- 
ence of  even  their  folly,  upon  all  who  witnessed 
their  example,  whilst  they  were  unconverted. 
Yes  ;  put  vicious  example  out  of  the  question  en- 
tirely for  a  moment ;  our  mere  indecision  and  for- 
mality, for  years,  told  upon  every  one  around  us, 
who  were  on  the  outlook  for  excuses,  with  harden- 
ing effect ;  and  they  are  now  hardening  those 
around  them  ;  and  thus  originating  a  line  of  ruin 
which  shall  never  stop. 

The  CDNViNCER  of  sin  sees  this  ;  but  he  does 
not  show  it.  In  mercy  he  conceals  it,  and  singles 
out  the  sin  of  unbelief  for  the  fullest  exposure, 
because  that  is  the  only  hinderance  to  the  pardon 
of  all  other  sins,  and  because  the  conscience  it- 
self has  no  natural  tendency  to  take  alarm  at  mere 
uubelief. 

The  love  manifested  in  this  is  unspeakable.  We 
both  require,  and  can  bear,  to  see  a  great  deal  of 
the  sinfulness  of  neglecting  the  Saviour;  for,  al- 
though no  discovery  of  the  evil  of  sin  is  more 
humbling,  or  so  melting,  no  discovery  brings  with 
it  vn  much  to  balance  itself.     A  clear  sight  of  un- 


belief comes  from  a  still  clearer  sight  of  the  glory 
and  grace  of  Christ ;  and  tlius  the  disease  and 
the  remedy  are  seen  together  at  the  same  time. 
The  light  that  reveals  the  baseness  and  ingrati- 
tude of  unbelief,  comes  pouring  down  from  the 
face  of  Jesus  upon  the  face  of  the  sinner  ;  and 
although  it  almost  blinds  him  for  a  little,  as  it  chd 
Saul  of  Tarsus,  it  also  enables  him  to  cry,  "  Lord, 
what  wouldest  thou  have  me  to  do  !" 

You  will  enter  into  the  spirit  of  this  hint,  when 
you  pause  to  notice  the  point  at  which  real  con- 
viction settles  down  into  habitual  penitence.  It 
may  begin  at  our  besetting  sin,  and  run  like  iire 
from  crime  to  crime,  through  all  the  catalogue  of 
our  transgressions,  until  the  conscience  is  in 
flames.  But  this,  although  it  burns  ilercest,  is 
not  what  abides  longest,  nor  what  humbles  most. 
It  is  the  cahn,  solemn,  weighty  consideration,  that 
all  sin  was  against  grace  as  well  as  law  ;  which, 
like  the  small  still  voice?  at  Horeb,  wraps  the  face 
in  the  mantle  of  humility,  and  lays  tlie  spirit  in  the 
dust  before  God.  The  agonizing  sense  of  indi- 
vidual sins  subsides  before  the  hope  of  pardon  ; 
but  we  never  can  forgive  nor  forget  our  long  ne- 
glect of  the  great  salvation  !  Nothing  shames  or 
shocks  us  so  deeply  and  lastingly,  as  the  recollec- 
tion of  having  lived  without  Christ  in  the  world. 
We  see  our  hearts  laid  bare  in  that  guilt  and  folly. 
We  cannot  palliate  or  soften  our  disregard  of  the 
Saviour. 

Thus  the  abiding  conviction,  by  which  abiding 
humility  is  produced  in  the  soul,  is,  what  Christ 
said — "of  sin,  because  of  unbelief." 

My  fellow  penitent !  we  cannot  tell  nor  con- 
ceive how  much  suffering  the  Spirit  of  grace  has 
saved  us  from,  by  making  us  feel  cliiefly  the  ex- 
ceeding sinfulness  of  unbelief.  Had  he  shed  and 
kept  as  much  light  upon  any  other  sin,  our  spirits 
would  sink  for  ever  under  it.  Perhaps  we  must 
be  far  down  in  eternity,  before  we  are  capable  of 
bearing  a  full  sight  of  all  sin  ! 

If  you  understand  these  hints  as  I  intend  them, 
they  will  suggest  to  you  a  very  satisfactory  rea- 
son why  conviction  is  so  calm  and  gentle  in  the 
case  of  many  converts.  Do  you  not  see  at  a 
glance,  that  the  Spirit's  point  (which  is  to  glorify 
Christ)  is  gained,  when  unbelief  gives  way'? 
Tliere  is,  then,  no  occasion  to  set  "  on  fire  the 
whole  course  of  nature."  Its  pride  and  self- 
righteousness  are  demolished  when  Christ  be- 
comes precious  to  the  soul. 

Were  this  duly  considered,  you  would  not  be 
afraid  lest  your  convictions,  if  they  have  been 
gradual  and  gentle,  be  not  the  work  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  He  does  not  work  for  the  sake  of  work- 
ing ;  but  in  order  to  bring  the  sou!  to  the  Saviour 
as  its  only  refuge,  and  as  its  supreme  example : 
and  therefore,  if  you  have  given  your  heart  to 
Christ,  you  have  as  little  occasion  to  doubt  your 
own  conversion  as  to  question  Lydia's,  whose 
heart  the  Lord  opened  without  tempest  or  ter'-or. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  your  convictions  were 
deep  and  distracting,  that  only  shows  how  deep 
and  stubborn  your  unbehef  was.  The  Spirit  shot 
no  more  arrows  into  your  conscience  than  just  the 
number  necessary  to  subdue  your  aversion  or  in- 
difference to  the  Saviour.  He  woimded  only  in 
order  to  heal ;  and,  therefore,  only  deep  enough 
to  make  the  cure  certain.     It  was  all  bad  blood 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


11 


you  lost,  however  much  you  bled  under  his  opera- 
tions. 

What  do  you  think  now  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit 
in  conversion — in  your  own  conversion  ]  Are 
you  not  ashamed,  as  well  as  astonished,  that  you 
should  never  have  traced  nor  marked  his  love  thus 
minutely  before  7  If  so,  do  follow  out  the  mani- 
festation of  it  by  reviewing  still  more  closely  his 
dealings  with  yourself.  You  are  only  on  the 
threshold  of  his  love  yet,  even  as  conversion 
shows  it :  your  own  conversion  can  furnish  more 
iamps  to  illuminate  it. 

Consider;  what  but  Jove  could  have  induced 
the  Holy  Spirit  to  strive  with  you  at  all  1  There 
was  nothing  about  your  heart  to  attract  his  hand. 
He  might  have  justly  passed  you  by :  he  might 
have  left  you  for  ever  when  you  resisted  his  first 
strivings.  Oh,  were  not  the  Spirit  love,  equally 
with  God  and  the  Lamb,  he  would  never  have 
tried  to  make  a  holy  temple  of  your  heart  or 
mine! 

Again ;  what  but  love  gave  power  enough  to 
your  convictions,  to  render  them  strong  enough 
to  send  you  fnlly  to  the  Cross  of  Christ  for  relief] 
There  are  terrors  and  stings  of  conscience  which 
drive  some,  like  Judas,  away  from  Christ,  and  on 
to  destruction :  yours  have  brought  you  to  your 
right  mind,  and  set  you  down  where  a  sinner  never 
yet  perished, — at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  under 
the  shadow  of  the  mercy-seat. 

Do  speak  well  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  those  of 
your  friends  who  have  not  yet  asked  for  him. 
Some  of  them  may  be  afraid  of  him.  So  little  is 
said  of  his  love  by  many  who  say  much  of  his 
power,  and  the  need  of  it,  that  not  a  few  are  dis- 
couraged. Do  speak  a  word  in  season  to  those 
who  are  thus  weary  and  heavy  laden.  It  will  in- 
crease your  own  love  to  the  Spirit,  and  tlie  Spirit's 
love  to  vou,  to  commend  him  as  love  to  others. 


No.  III. 

THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT    IN    JUSTIFICATION. 

To  justify  a  sinner  is  more  than  pardoning  his 
Bins,  much  as  that  is  :  it  is  also  to  accept  and 
treat  him  as  righteous,  or  as  if  the  righteousness 
of  Christ  were  his  own  personal  virtue. 

This  is  a  wonderful  plan  of  saving  the  guilty  ! 
Well  may  it  be  called  "  the  manifold  wisdom  of 
God."  How  sublime,  and  yet  how  simple,  is  this 
plan !  Paul  felt  all  this,  when  lie  said  of  God, 
"  For  he  hath  made  him  to  be  sin  for  us,  who 
knew  no  sin ;  that  we  (who  knew  nothing  but  sin) 
might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him." 
As  if  the  apostle  had  said, — For  the  sake  of  sin-  j 
ners,  God  treated  his  own  Son  as  it  he  had  been 
guilty;  and  now,  for  the  sake  of  Christ,  he  treats 
sinners,  when  they  beheve.  as  if  they  were  inno- 
cent ;  not  imputing  unto  them  their  trespasses, 
but  giving  them  the  full  advantage  of  the  righte-  \ 
ousness  of  Christ,  just  as  if  it  were  their  own 
property.  "  Behold  what  manner  of  love  the 
Father  hatli  bestowed  on  us,  that  we  should  be 
called  the  tons  of  God." 

It  will  not  divert  you  from  admiring  the  love  of 
the  Father  or  of  the  Son  in  justification,  to  behold 


also  the  love  of  the  Holy  Spirit  m  it.  His  love, 
too,  reigns  conspicuously  in  that  great  act  of 
grace,  although  not  exactly  in  the  same  way. 
He  does  not,  indeed,  pass  the  act  of  justification  : 
"  It  is  God  that  justifieth."  Nor  does  he  furnish 
any  •part  of  the  righteousness,  for  the  sake  of 
which  we  are  treated  as  righteous  :  it  was  Christ 
that  died  and  rose  again  "  for  our  justification." 
But  still  the  Spirit  do-s  something,  whatever  it 
be,  which  so  connects  both  his  hand  and  heart 
with  the  reign  of  justifying  grace,  that  the  apos- 
tles do  not  hesitate  to  identify  him  with  the  Fa- 
ther and  the  Son  in  this  transaction.  Paul  said 
to  the  Corinthians,  "  Ye  are  justified  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  by  the  Spirit  of  our  God!" 
to  the  Gaiatians,  "  We,  through  the  Spirit,  wait 
for  the  hope  of  righteousness  by  faith."  The 
Saviour  himself  said  of  the  Spirit,  "  He  shall  con- 
vince the  world  of  righteousness."  Observe, 
also,  how  prominent  the  place  is  which  Paul  gives 
to  the  work  of  the  Spirit,  when  explaining  to 
Titus  tlie  process  by  which  believers  are  justified 
by  grace,  in  order  that  they  may  be  heirs  of  glory  : 
'•  Not  by  works  of  righteousness  which  we  have 
done  ;  but  according  to  his  mere)',  God  saved  us, 
by  the  washing  of  regeneration  and  the  renewing 
of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  which  he  shed  on  us  abun- 
dantly, through  Jesus  Christ  om-  Saviour."  Why  ? 
"That,  being  justified  by  his  grace,  we  should  be 
made  heirs  according  to  the  hope  of  eternal  life." 
Tit.  iii.  4-7.  In  like  manner,  Peter  connects 
"  the  sanctification  of  the  Spirit"  with  the  "sprink- 
ling of  the  blood  of  Christ,"  which  is  the  merito- 
rious cause  of  justification.     1  Pet.  i.  2. 

Thus,  it  is  not  without  the  warrant  of  precept 
or  of  example,  that  I  invite  you  to  trace  the  love 
of  the  Spirit  in  justification.  The  apostles  never 
overlooked  or  forgot  it ;  nor  can  any  believer  be 
unaftected  by  it  when  he  studies  it.  It  may  not 
strike  you  at  a  glance,  but  it  will  amply  repay 
fixed  attention. 

Now,  it  is  no  part  of  the  official  work  of  the 
Father  or  of  the  Son,  to  convince  sinners  of  their 
need  of  a  justifying  righteousness.  The  Son  has 
brought  in  an  everlasting  righteousness  by  his  me- 
diation, and  the  Father  hath  set  it  forth  by  his 
authority  ;  but  neither  officially  apply  it  to  the  soul, 
nor  stir  up  the  soul  to  apply  for  it ;  that  is  left  to 
the  love  of  the  Spirit  to  do ;  and  the  love  which 
does  t!iat  cannot  be  weak  or  wavering.  It  is  a 
task  which  nothing  but  real  love  would  undertake, 
and  which  nothing  but  great  love  could  accom- 
plish ;  for  we  are  not  soon  nor  easily  convinced  of 
our  need  of  either  an  imputed  or  a  personal 
righteousness  :  both  are  against  the  grain  of  our 
nature.  Indeed,  except  a  man's  character  be 
very  bad,  it  is  not  easy  to  convince  him  of  the  ne- 
cessity of  being  better.  Many  speak  as  if  they  ac- 
tually dreaded,  as  well  as  disliked,  to  be  very  righte- 
ous; thus  deeiiiiiig  it  not  only  unnecessary,  but  in 
some  way  dangerous,  or  discreditable,  to  be  so. 
No  wonder,  therefore,  that  a  justifying  righteous- 
ness should  be  fai  from  their  thoughts,  :-eeing  a 
personal  one  is  thus  lightly  valued,  and  even 
laughed  at,  when  it  is  zealous  of  good  works. 

Tiiis  is  the  bent  of  human  nature  :  I  cannot, 
therefore,  but  trace  much  of  both  the  love  and 
power  of  the  Spirit  even  in  convincing  us  of  the 
necessity  of  being  more  righteous  than  the  aver- 


12 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT, 


age  of  our  neighbors.  This  is  not  a  natural  con- 
viction, nor  a  convential  maxim :  it  is  a  divine 
persuasion  wherever  it  is  a  deep  feeling.  It  is  a 
transition,  not,  indeed,  into  "marvellous  light," 
but  still  out  of  that  gross  darkness  w^hich  covers 
the  people  (and  they  are  many)  who  are  satisfied 
with  not  being  worse  than  others. 

I  would  not  attach  undue  importance  to  even  a 
deep  conviction  of  the  necessity  of  being  better 
than  others  ;  but  I  must  say,  that  it  is  a  march 
(and  not  a  dead  march  either)  gained  upon  mere 
conscience,  and  thus  a  good  sign. 

The  man  wlio  is  led  thus  far  in  judging  for  liim- 
self  how  good  he  ought  to  be,  is,  to  say  the  least, 
in  the  fair  way  to  discover  his  need  of  a  better 
righteousness  than  his  own.  Indeed,  this  disco- 
very is  usually  made  by  trying  to  be  good.  That 
effort  is  either  so  unsuccessful,  or  its  success,  in  a 
few  small  things,  is  accompanied  with  such  fail- 
ures in  great  things,  and  with  such  a  sight  of  the 
many  things  wliich  must  be  added,  that  the  re- 
forming man  becomes  afraid,  and  begins  to  doubt 
whether  his  own  power  is  able  to  carry  out  his 
own  purposes. 

it  is  often  at  this  point  that  the  need  of  a  per- 
fect righteousness  begins  to  be  felt.  The  sinner, 
with  all  his  trying,  cannot  make  his  own  robe 
broad  enough  nor  long  enough  to  cover  him. 
Place  it  and  stretch  it  as  he  may,  it  leaves  some 
part  naked  ;  and  the  more  it  is  drawn  upon  one 
point,  the  more  naked  others  are  made.  He  may 
not  yet  think  it  a  "  filthy"  rag,  but  he  cannot  help 
feeling  that  it  is  only  a  "  rag,"  both  in  its  dimen- 
sions and  strength  ;  for  it  tares  when  it  is  stretch- 
ed, and  falls  off  when  let  alone.  This  is  not  more 
quaintly  expressed  than  it  is  literally  true.  We 
try  to  establisli  our  own  righteousness  until  we 
weary  or  despair  of  it :  and  tlien,  did  not  the  Spirit 
of  God  turn  our  attention  to  Christ,  we  should 
give  up  religion  altogether,  as  a  hopeless  under- 
taking, in  our  own  case.  It  is  only  by  seeing 
something  suitable  or  encou-raging  in  the  Saviour 
that  this  is  prevented.  Religion  would  be  aban- 
doned by  every  man  who  had  tried  hard  and  fail- 
ed utterly,  did  not  the  Spirit  step  in  at  the  moment 
of  extremity,  and  show  him  something  of  the  per- 
son and  work  of  Christ. 

"  Tliere  may  be  help  for  me  yet,  in  him  who  is 
mighty  to  save,"  is  the  candle  which  Peradven- 
ture  holds  to  Hope,  and  Hope  to  Resolution,  at 
this  crisis. 

Our  first  cheering  views  of  Christ  seldom  amount 
to  more  than  this.  It  is  not  at  once  that  the 
Spirit  convinces  the  soul  that  Christ  is  "  the  end 
of  the  law  for  righteousness  ;"  nor  is  it  exactly  in 
the  way  we  expected,  even  when  he  does  so.  Pie 
leads  us  into  all  truth  now,  very  much  in  the  same 
manner  as  he  made  the  apostles  and  disciples 
wise  unto  salvation,  step  by  step,  as  we  can  bear 
the  truth.  Every  Christian  both  needs  and  finds 
a  day  of  Pentecost,  to  enlarge,  mature,  and  con- 
firm, his  knowledge  of  justification  through  faitli. 
Perhaps  no  one  ever  understood  this  grand  truth 
of  the  gospel  at  once.  Even  when  it  is  under- 
stood, it  can  hardly  be  believed  for  joy  !  It  seems 
ton  good  news  to  be  true. 

This  is,  I  have  no  doubt,  one  reason  why  it  is 
so  gradually  opened  up  to  the  penitent.  They 
must  be  kept  penitent.    Their  safety  must  be  more 


consulted  than  their  comfort,  at  first.  Full  submis- 
sion to  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  as  well  as  count- 
ing all  things  but  loss  to  be  found  in  it,  must  be 
produced,  before  we  are  prepared  to  sing  meekly 
or  prudently,  "  Thou  hast  covered  me  with  the 
robes  of  righteousness  and  the  garments  of  sal- 
vation." No  hps  ever  sung  this  well,  until  they 
had  often  sighed  in  the  dust  of  self-abasement, 
and  breathed  in  fervent  prayer,  the  cry,  "  Unclean, 
unclean  !     God  be  merciful  unto  me  a  sinner." 

The  Spirit  is,  however,  convincing  of  righte- 
ousness, when  he  convinces  of  sin,  because  of 
unbelief :  for  then,  our  felt  need  of  pardon,  and 
our  felt  unworthiness  of  the  pardon  we  need, 
equally  tends  to  draw  and  fix  our  attention  upon 
the  question — how  can  a  just  and  Holy  God  par- 
don me']  We  are  not  far  from  being  convinced 
of  righteousness,  when  we  are  convinced  that 
God,  for  Christ's  sake,  can  pardon  us,  without  dis- 
honoring his  law,  or  his  character.  More  seals 
than  one  or  two,  of  the  book  of  righteousness  are 
opened  to  us  by  the  Spirit,  if  we  see  clearly  that 
God  can  be  just,  and  yet  the  justifier  of  the  un- 
godly, when  they  believe  in  Jesus.  Any  ons  can 
say  thus :  but  he  who  can  see  its  truth  in  his  own 
case,  whilst  looking  at  all  his  own  ungodliness, ' 
sees  "  afar  off,"  and  has  had  the  eyes  of  his  un- 
derstanding enlightened  by  the  Spirit  of  wisdom 
and  revelation. 

Can  you  see  "  this  great  sight,"  after  looking 
at  all  the  greatness  of  your  guilt  and  unworthi- 
ness ]  Does  your  eye  turn  to  it,  and  repose  upon 
it,  even  with  hope,  after  having  read  the  catalogue 
of  your  sins  from  top  to  bottom,  and  seen  all  the 
plagues  of  your  heart,  and  all  the  weakness  of 
your  character?  Is  this  your  Goshen  of  light, 
when  aU  around  you  is  Egyptian  darkness  1  If  so, 
you  may  well  admire  tlie  love  of  the  Spirit,  and 
waiTantably  believe  that  he  has  convinced  you  of 
righteousness,  in  no  small  or  superficial  degree. 

But,  perhaps,  your  conviction  of  it  does  not  go 
all  this  length  yet.  You  may  rather  be  looking  at 
your  own  need  of  a  justifying  righteousness,  than 
at  the  sufficiency  or  fi-eeness  of  the  righteous- 
ness of  Christ.  Well ;  even  in  that  case,  the 
love  of  the  Spirit  towards  you,  is  no  doubtful  mat- 
ter. For,  who  opened  and  salved  thine  eyes  to 
see  the  need  of  "  tvhiie  raiment,"  to  clothe  tliy 
naked  soul  ?  The  time  was, — when  you  did  not 
see  that  you  were  naked,  or  poor,  or  wretched. 

You  once  took  for  granted,  that  you  had  only  to 
try,  in  order  to  be  as  good  as  the  best ;  or,  at  least, 
as  good  as  could  be  expected  in  your  case.  You 
expected  to  look  well,  and  to  feel  very  warm  too, 
in  the  robe  you  were  manufacturing  for  yourself. 
And  now  you  are  as  much  ashamed  of  your  righte- 
ousness, as  of  your  unrighteousness ;  and  more 
afraid  of  being  judged  by  yonr  good  works,  than 
the  natural  man  is  of  being  judged  by  his  evil 
works. 

This  is  no  accident.  It  is  a  conviction  which 
even  your  utter  failure,  when  trying  to  establish 
your  own  righteousness,  did  not,  and  could  not 
produce.  He  is  convinced  by  the  Spirit,  who  is 
convinced  that  he  himself  can  do  nothing  towards 
his  own  justification.  He  is  "taught  of  God," 
who  sees  and  feels  that  God  must  justify  him,  en- 
tirely and  freely,  if  ho  ever  be  justified  at  all. 
This  is  not  untrue  nor  doubtful,  even  if  the  con- 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT 


13 


victed  sinner  lias  but  a  veiy  slender  hope,  at  first, 
of  being  clothed  with  the  righteousness  of  Christ. 
His  deep  sense  of  his  need  of  that  "spotless  robe," 
and  his  strong  desire  to  be  clothed  with  it,  are 
both  produced  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
That  power  has  wrought  mightily  and  graciously 
in  the  man,  who  hes  self-condemned  and  self-emp- 
tied at  the  feet  of  God,  saying  nothing  but, 
"  Guilty,  guilty ;  vile,  vile  ;  unworthy,  unworthy  : 
— mercy,  mercy  !  for  the  sake  of  Christ !"  The 
Spirit  is  not  exactly  his  comforter  then  ;  but  even 
then,  he  is  as  much  his  friend,  and  as  truly  his 
helper,  as  when  he  commanded  the  angel  to  "  take 
away  the  filthy  garments"  from  Joshua,  the  high 
priest,  and  to  "cfothe  him  with  change  of  raimenf," 
and  to  "  set  a  fair  mitre  upon  his  head."  It  is  in- 
deed, other  work,  to  humble  and  empty  the  soul : 
but  it  is  the  same  mighty  hand,  guided  by  the 
same  warm  heart,  that  lays  the  soul  down  at  the 
foot  of  the  rock  of  ages,  and  that  lifts  it  up  to  the 
summit,  or  into  the  munitions  of  that  rock.  The 
weeping  penitent,  and  the  rejoicing  saint,  are 
equally  the  "  workmanship"  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
They  are  stars,  differing  from  each  other,  in  the 
degree  of  grace ;  but  showing  equally  the  glory 
of  the  Spirit's  love. 

You  would,  of  course,  prefer  such  a  conviction 
of  righteousness,  as  would  enable  you  to  sing, 
"  He  hath  covered  me  with  the  robe  of  righteous- 
ness." This  is  a  very  natural,  and  not  at  all  an 
improper  desire,  after  having  passed  through  many 
painful  exercises  of  mind,  by  turning  over  and  over 
the  question, — how  can  I  be  just  with  God  1  It  is 
not  wrong,  after  having  thus  suffered  awhile  from 
the  terrors  of  law,  and  the  sting  of  conscience,  to 
wish,  even  very  much,  to  be  established,  strength- 
ened, and  settled  in  the  hope  of  pardon,  and  ac- 
ceptance through  the  beloved.  They  have  not 
suffered  much  yet,  from  law  or  conscience,  who 
are  not  very  anxious  to  "  know"  that  they  "have 
eternal  life." 

Let  us  not  forget,  however,  that  hope  would 
never  have  been  so  very  dear  to  us,  had  we  not 
suffered  a  good  deal  from  the  want  or  from  the 
weakness  of  it.  We  should  have  been  farther  off 
from  "  a  good  hope  through  grace,"  than  we  now 
are,  had  we  not  been  led  so  far  down  into  the  val- 
ley of  humiliation.  The  Spirit  has  led  and  kept 
us  there,  not  for  the  sake  of  paining  us,  nor  yet  to 
try  our  patience  merely;  but  chiefly,  that  we 
might  be  driven  out  of  all  refuges  of  lies,  and  even 
out  of  sight  of  them  all,  until  we  saw  nothing  be- 
tween us  and  perishing,  but  just  the  cross  of  Christ. 
For  his  work,  be  it  for  ever  remembered,  is  to 
"glorify  Clirist ;"  and  Christ  is  not  fuEy  glorified 
in  us  or  by  us,  until  he  becomes  "all  in  all,"  in 
our  hope  and  desire  :  and  that,  we  do  not  make 
liini,  until  we  come  fully  to  the  point  and  spirit  of 
the  cry,  "  Lord,  save  ;  I  perish." 

Have  you  come  to  this  point  and  spirit  often, 
and  yet  never  been  able  to  lay  hold  upon  "  the 
hope  of  righteousness  by  faith  V  Are  you  still, 
after  all  your  renunciations  of  your  own  righte- 
ousness, and,  after  all  your  prayers  to  be  justified 
freely  by  grace,  quite  uncertain  whether  you  have 
found  mercy  to  pardon  I  Is  it  the  case  that, 
whilst  you  can  hardly  doubt  that  you  have  found 
"  grace  to  help  iu  time  of  need,"  you  yet  doubt 
very  much  whether  you  are  "justified  by  grace  J" 


I  can  sympathise  with  you,  in  this  uncertainty  and 
suspense.  Let  us  not,  however,  question  the  love 
of  the  Spirit,  even  if  he  has  not  yet  been  our 
comforter  in  this  matter.  There  may  be  love  in 
his  delay.  There  is  love  in  delaying  comfort,  on 
the  question  of  justification,  if  the  kind  of  comfort 
we  have  been  seeking  is  not  promised,  or  if  the 
promised  comfort  is  looked  for  from  a  wrong  quar- 
ter. The  comfortable  hope  of  our  justification, 
can  only  come  from  the  same  source,  that  our  con- 
viction of  the  need  of  a  justifying  righteousness 
came  fi-om.  Now  that  conviction  came  from  the 
word  of  God.  The  Holy  Spirit  fastened  our  at- 
tention upon  the  revealed  fact,  "that,  by  the  deeds 
j  of  the  law,  no  flesh  hving  can  be  justified  ;"  and 
!  thus  upon  the  experimental  fact,  that  all  our  own 
!  righteousness  is  as  filthy  rags.  Thus  it  was  truth, 
!  — that  he  plied  our  understanding  and  conscience 
with,  in  convincing  us  of  our  need  of  justification 
by  grace.  He  made  our  belief  of  this,  stand  on 
tlie  word  of  God.  He  showed  us  our  guUt,  and 
danger,  and  weakness,  as  we  had  never  seen  them 
before :  but  still,  only  as  they  are  depicted  in  the 
Bible.  He  did  not  reveal  to  us  a  law,  not  written 
there  ;  nor  a  curse,  not  threatened  there ;  nor  a 
want,  not  declared  there  :  he  just  made  us  wise 
up  to  "what  is  written"  of  sinners,  and  against 
smners  ;  and  led  us  to  apply  that  to  ourselves. 

Well ;  is  it  not  likely,  yea,  more  than  probable, 
that  he  comforts,  just  as  he  convicts,  on  the  sub- 
ject,— by  the  truth  l  Consider !  The  facts  and 
promises  of  the  gospel  are  as  able  to  comfort,  as 
the  demands  and  threatenings  of  the  law  to  alarm. 
Why  then  should  not  the  Spirit  speak  peace  to 
the  conscience  by  the  gospel,  as  well  as  terror  to 
the  conscience  by  the  law  ?  The  glad  tidings  of 
the  former,  are  as  true  as  the  sad  tidings  of  the 
latter.  The  heart  can  be  healed  by  cheering 
truth,  as  well  as  broken  by  awful  truth. 

Has  this,  however,  been  the  way  in  which  you, 
"through  the  Spirit,"  have  "waited  for  the  hope 
of  righteousness  by  faith?"  Have  you  not  rather 
waited  for  some  impulse — emotion — or  inward 
sense  of  pardon,  apart  from  the  outward,  or  writ- 
ten promise  1  Have  you  not  waited  for  the  Spi- 
rit, rather  than  on  the  Spirit  ]  Have  you  "  minded 
the  things  of  the  Spirit,"  (which  are  chiefly  his 
promises  and  counsels)  as  much  as  you  have  mind- 
ed his  sweet  influences,  which  are  the  dew  of 
them?  Have  you  sown  to  the  Spirit  the  good 
seed  of  hope  and  holiness,  as  well  as  looked  for 
the  early  and  latter  rain  of  his  grace,  to  make  it 
fruitful  ? 

This  is  close,  almost  cross,  questioning :  but  it 
is  wanted.  For,  hov/  unlike  the  Saviour's  own 
account  of  the  way  of  bringing  home  the  hope  of 
righteousness  to  the  heart,  is  the  creed — the 
scheme  (what  shall  I  call  it?) — the  notion  of 
many,  who,  in  other  respects,  are  as  willing  as 
Paul  or  Peter,  to  be  entire  debtors  to  Christ  for 
justification  !  The  whole  soul  is  set  upon  owing 
every  thing,  as  to  the  ground  of  their  acceptance, 
to  his  cross ;  but,  as  to  the  knowledge  of  tlieir 
acceptance,  they  seem,  somehow,  unwilling  to  be 
indebted  to  his  word  for  that ;  or  doubt  whether 
his  word  be  warrant  enough,  for  taking  up  and 
cherishing  a  good  hope  through  grace. 

Do,  look  again,  to  the  Saviour's  own  account  of 
the  process  by  which  the  Comforter  is  promised  to 


14 


THE    LOVE    OP^    THE    SPIRIT. 


convince  of  righteousness.  "  He  shall  convince 
of  righteousness,  because  I  go  to  my  Father,  and 
ye  t-ee  me  no  more."  John  xvi.  10.  This  refers, 
unquestioniibly,  to  the  sufficiency,  perfection,  and 
freeness  of  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  to  justify 
all  who  believe,  from  all  sin.  The  proof  that  such 
a  righteousness  was  needed,  lies  'in  the  solemn 
fact,  that  Christ  came  from  the  Father,  into  the 
world,  to  magnify  the  law  by  his  obedience,  and 
to  make  it  honorable  by  his  death ;  and  the  proof 
that  his  obedience  and  death  did  work  out  a  per- 
fect righteousness,  lies  in  the  sublime  fact,  that  he 
was  welcomed  back  to  the  Father  by  all  the  armies 
of  heaven,  and  by  the  Father, — who  was  well- 
pleased  for  his  righteousness'  sake  !  Nov/  "  by 
this  fact,"  Christ  says,  "  shall  the  Spirit  convince 
of  righteousness ;  or  lodge  in  the  mind,  such  a 
persuasion  of  the  infinite  merits  of  his  work,  and 
of  the  infinite  good-will  of  the  Father,  that  no 
new  or  different  revelation  of  the  love  of  the 
Father  or  tlie  Son,  can  be  wanted,  (in  order  to 
warrant  the  hope  of  salvation,)  by  any  one  who 
desires  a  holy  salvation,  and  is  willing  to  be  in- 
debted to  Christ  for  it. 

Now,  I  will  not  ask,  what  feeling,  impulse,  or 
inward  sense,  can  compare  with  this  outward  fact. 
I  durst  no  more  allay  your  solicitude  to  feel  aright 
than  I  dare  refrain  from  calling  upon  you  to  judge 
aright.  Whoever  has  no  concern  to  feel  hope, 
peace,  and  comfort,  is  not  much  concerned  about 
his  guilt  or  danger.  I  want  you  and  myself, — and 
I  avow  it,  and  proclaim  it,  without  apology  to  the- 
ological stoics  or  worldly  maxims, — to  feel  the 
good  hope  of  pardon  and  acceptance :  I  should, 
however,  only  perplex  or  mortify  you,  were  I  to 
call  for  such  feelings,  without  reminding  you  that 
the  facts  and  promises  of  the  gospel,  both  create 
and  warrant  them.  By  nothing  else  does  the  holy 
Spirit  produce  in  tlie  heart,  love,  joy,  peace,  or 
any  of  the  peaceful  fruits  of  righteousness.  He 
is  too  much  a  comforter — too  concerned  for  our 
real  comfort — and  has  too  much  love  to  the  Sa- 
viour's glory  and  our  good, — to  make  impressions 
on  our  minds  by  mysterious  impulses,  when  he 
can  make  them,  equally  well,  by  plain  and  glorious 
truths,  which  are  always  at  hand  to  be  read,  and 
always  easy  to  be  understood. 

Besides;  he  will  "glorify"  Christ;  and  not 
your  faith,  nor  your  feelings.  You  want  to  have 
a  very  high  opinion  of  your  own  faith — as  living — 
and  saving — and  of  divine  "operation:"  and  he 
wants  you  to  have  a  very  high  opmion  of  Christ ; 
without  whom  faith  would  just  be  as  unequal  to 
your  justification,  as  works.  And  as  the  Spirit 
will  "  not  testify  of  himself,'"  he  will  not, — depend 
on  it— testify  of  you,  (even  to  yourself,)  liiat 
there  is  any  thing  in  the  nature  or  the  degree  of 
your  taith,  which  is  any  cause  of,  or  claim  for,  your 
justitication  :  but  he  will  so  shut  you  up  to  the  ful- 
ness, and  freeness,  and  sufficiency  of  Christ  to 
save,  that  Clirist  himself,  and  not  your  faith,  shall 
have  all  the  glory  ;  and  you,  yourself,  shall  attach 
no  importance  to  your  faith,  but  just  as  it  thinks 
of  nothing — realizes  nothing — rests  upon  nothing  j 
but  the  doing  and  dying  of  Christ. 

I  will  not,  therefore,  mediate  for  you,  upon  the 
Saviour's  reason  for  tlie  hojje  of  justification.  It 
is  before  you,  as  before  myself.  Pie  returned  to 
the   Father  and  was  welcomed  by  him,  as  the 


grand  proof  that  we  may  "  return,  and  welcome" 
— to  the  Father  by  him.  I,  therefore,  leave  you 
with  the  word  and  the  Spirit  before  you,  to  ponder 
and  pray  over  that  oracle — "He  that  believeth  is 
justified :"  for  the  righteousness  of  God  "  is  unto 
all,  and7<|)on  all,  them  who  believe."  Rom.  iii.  22. 


No.  IV. 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT    IN    KECONCILIATION. 

Paul  says,  that  "  the  carnal  mind  is  enmity 
against  God :"  and  it  is  neither  a  contradiction 
nor  an  exception  to  this  awful  truth,  that  some 
persons,  who  make  no  pretensions  to  spiritual- 
mindednesF,  and  others  who  deny  the  very  being 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  yet  profess  a  high  regard  and 
veneration  for  God.  For,  it  is  not  God,  as  he  has 
revealed  himself  whom  they  admire  or  love  ;  and, 
therefore,  the  more  they  admire  and  love  the  cha- 
racter they  ascribe  to  God,  the  more  they  hate  his 
real  character. 

It  is  not  very  easy  to  see  this,  when  men  of 
genius,  science,  or  taste,  pay  high  compliments  to 
the  wisdom,  power,  and  benevolence  of  the  Deity 
— for  the  same  language  from  the  lips  of  a  Chris- 
tian, would  be  an  expression  and  a  proof  of  his 
love  to  God.  How,  then,  is  it  a  proof  of  enmity 
against  God,  when  a  mere  philosopher,  poet,  or 
sentimentalist  utters  if?  God  is  as  wise,  as 
mighty,  and  as  glorious  as  they  say.  His  eternal 
power  and  godhead  are  to  be  seen  in  all  the 
works  of  creation,  which  they  examine  and  ad- 
mire. And  they  do  admire  and  enjoy  what  they 
praise.  They  are  not  pretending,  when  they  say, 
"  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and  the 
firmament  showeth  his  handiwork."  How,  then, 
can  they  be  traitors,  whilst  they  utter  truth  ? — 
Why  does  revelation  class  them  with  the  haters 
of  God,  seeing  they  love  the  works  of  God,  and 
speak  well  of  the  divine  perfections  displayed  in 
these  works  ?  Are  they  not,  at  least,  less  averse, 
and  more  reverential  to  God,  than  those  who  study 
neither  the  Bible  nor  nature  ? 

Now  there  certainly  is  a  difference  o^  form,  be- 
tween the  enmity  of  the  philosopher  to  God,  and 
that  of  the  sensualist ;  and  between  the  enmity  of 
the  man  of  taste,  and  that  of  the  worldling.  The 
latter  are  "  enemies  in  their  minds  by  wicked 
works  ;"  and  the  former,  "  by  vain  and  evil  imagi- 
nations:"— a  difference,  however,  amounting  to 
nothing  more,  so  far  as  God  and  eternity  are  con- 
cerned, than  that  which  subsisted,  in  ancient 
times,  between  the  idols  of  savage  and  civilized 
nations.  The  polished  Greeks  and  Romans,  who 
worshipped  no  idols  but  such  as  were  cut  from 
Parian  marble,  with  statuesque  perfection,  were 
as  much  idolaters,  as  the  barbarians  who  bowed 
down  to  hideous  monsters,  and  vile  reptUes. — 
"The  glory  of  the  incorruptible  God"  was  equally 
changed,  whether,  as  in  Athens  and  Rome,  it  was 
"changed  into  an  image  made  like  unto  corrupti- 
ble man;"  or,  as  in  Egypt  and  Babylon,  "unto 
birds,  and  beasts,  and  creeping  things."  The  Ju- 
piter of  Rome,  and  the  Juggernaut  of  India;  the 
Apollo  of  ancient  Greece,  and  the  Thor  and  Wo- 
den of  ancient  Britain,  are  equal  proofs,  that  the 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


15 


men  who  invented  them,  and  the  men  who  wor- 
shipped them,  "  did  not  like  to  retain  God  in  their 
knowledge  ;"  but  were,  in  fact,  equally  haters  of 
God." 

So  it  is  still.  There  is  as  much  real  enmity  to 
the  revealed  character  of  God,  in  natural  and  sen- 
timental religion,  as  in  the  grossest  superstition. 
The  former  despises  the  Bible,  or  dispenses  with 
it ;  and  the  latter  neutralizes  or  makes  it  void  by 
the  traditions  of  men.  Be  not  misled  nor  amazed, 
therefore,  when  you  read  or  hear  high  eulogiums 
upon  the  Divine  Character,  from  men  who  reject 
Divine  Truth.  That  Truth  pays  all  the  homage, 
they  can  do,  to  God  as  a  Creator :  and,  therefore, 
they  must  dislike  the  homage  it  pays  to  him,  as  a 
lawgiver,  and  as  the  God  of  Salvation.  For,  they 
cannot  pretend,  (at  least  they  cannot  prove,)  that 
the  Bible  does  less  justice  to  the  glories  of  crea- 
tion, than  philosophy.  They  have  produced  no 
poetry  yet,  that  rivals,  in  natural  beauty  or  sublimi- 
ty, the  psalms  and  hymns  of  inspiration.  In  re- 
jecting the  Bible,  therefore,  their  reason  cannot 
be  found  in  the  spirit  or  the  style,  in  which  it  ce- 
lebrates the  natural  perfections  of  Deity.  Indeed, 
by  their  own  confession,  nothing  is  so  lofty  in  sen- 
timent or  language  as  sacred  poetry. 

We  thus  get  at  the  real  cause  of  their  unbe- 
lief: it  is  enmity  against  the  moral  perfections  of 
God,  as  these  are  revealed  in  the  Bible.  How  in- 
veterate then  is  the  enmity  of  the  human  heart, 
seeing  it  can  admire  the  divine  goodness  in  na- 
ture, and  hate  it  in  grace :  trace  it  in  creation  with 
enthusiasm,  and  trample  on  it  in  redemption,  with 
contempt :  laud  it  in  a  star,  and  laugh  at  it  in  the 
"  Sun  of  Righteousness  !" 

This  is  fallen  human  nature,  when  it  raises  it- 
self highest,  without  the  gospel.  It  merely  re- 
fines its  enmity,  and  systematizes  its  pride.  No 
wonder,  therefore,  if  the  gospel  pour  as  much 
scorn  upon  human  wisdom,  as  upon  human  crime. 
Both  hate  God  alike,  although  for  different  rea- 
sons. 

Thus  the  necessity  of  reconciliation  to  God  is 
universal.  And  as  the  best  forms  of  the  human 
mind  are,  by  nature  and  tendency,  the  proudest, 
no  wonder  that  reconciliation  is  always  by  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  well  as  by  the  blood 
of  the  Cross.  "  The  Ministry  of  Reconciliation" 
succeeds  in  its  Beseechings,  because  it  is  "the 
ministration  of  the  Spirit." 

It  will  increase  your  love  to  the  Spirit,  to  trace 
the  love  of  the  Spirit,  in  reconciling  you  to  God, 
by  the  Cross.  Now,  by  it,  he  has  reconciled  you 
to  the  incomprehensible  mysteries  of  the  divine  es- 
sence. You  do  not  cavil  with  them,  nor  turn  them 
into  excuses  for  neglecting  the  divine  will.  This 
is  done,  however,  by  many.  They  entrench  them- 
selves amongst  the  mysteries  of  the  trinity,  when 
they  are  plied  with  the  claims  of  the  gospel ;  and 
demand  explanations  of  the  twofold  nature  of 
Christ,  when  they  are  blamed  for  unbelief.  They 
wield  all  the  "  things  hard  to  be  understood," 
against  both  "the  one  thing  needful,"  and  the 
things  which  belong  to  their  eternal  peace  ;  and 
because  they  cannot  comprehend,  refuse  to  obey. 

Mystery  is  not,  indeed,  the  sole,  nor  the  real 

reason  of  their  aversion  to  the  gospel.     That  lies 

deeper  than  they  choose  to  acknowledge.     It  is 

no  calumny  to  say  so  :  for  there  is  nothing  in  the 

6t  (15) 


trinity  of  the  Godhead,  merely  as  trinity,  to  pro- 
voke or  offend,  however  it  may  baffle.  The  mind 
does  not,  indeed,  like  to  be  baffled :  but  then,  it 
does  not  escape  from  this  mortification,  by  taking 
up  with  the  absolute  unity  of  God.  The'  incom- 
prehensible prevails  in  that,  to  a  degree  which,  if 
as  much  dwelt  upon,  would  be  equally  baffling. — 
What  offends,  therefore,  is  not  the  mystery  of  the 
trinity,  as  mere  mystery  ;  but  the  redemption  in- 
volved in  the  fact.  Accordingly,  the  Unitarian  al- 
ways discards  redemption  from  his  theory  of  the 
divine  nature  and  government.  He  rids  himself 
of  more  than  mystery  by  rejecting  the  trinity.  He 
throws  ofij  along  with  that,  the  fear  of  perishing, 
the  need  of  a  mediator,  and  the  use  of  a  sancti- 
fier. 

Why  have  you  not  done  sol  You  do  not  com- 
prehend the  trinity  you  believe :  but  it  does  not  of- 
fend you.     You  can  both  say  and  sing, 

"  I  love  the  incarnate  mystery !" 

Why  7  Because  there — you  can  put  your  "  trust." 
It  is  the  trust-worthiness  of  the  Lamb  of  God, 
which  reconciles  you  to  the  trinity  of  the  God- 
head. The  Holy  Spirit  has  thus  shown  you  the 
need  of  a  salvation,  which  no  theory  of  Unitarian- 
ism  furnishes ;  and  satisfied  you  that  Trinita- 
rianism  alone,  provides  for  the  wants  of  your  soul. 

This  is  from  the  love  of  the  Spirit !  Had  he 
not  convinced  you  of  sin,  and  of  righteousness, 
and  of  judgment,  you  too  might  have  rejected  the 
gospel,  under  the  pretence  of  its  mysteriousness. 
Many  are  left  to  do  so :  and,  who  can  wonder  ? — 
They  will  not  take  the  word  of  the  Spirit,  upon 
the  subject  of  their  sin  or  danger ;  and,  therefore, 
he  will  not  work  for  their  conversion.  They  will 
not  take  truth  just  as  he  has  written  it ;  and  he 
will  not  do  that  for  them,  which  they  can  do  for 
themselves. 

Observe,  now,  how  the  Holy  Spirit  has  recon- 
ciled you,  by  the  Cross,  to  the  sovereignty  of  the 
divine  will.  Nothing,  perhaps,  is  more  appalling 
or  repulsive  to  the  natural  mind,  than  the  idea  of 
being  entirely  and  eternally  at  the  disposal  of  the 
mere  will  of  God !  The  heart  rises  and  writhe.s 
at  such  absolute  dependence.  It  would  shake  it 
off,  if  it  could.  To  have  no  claim  to  be  saved, 
and  no  vote  or  voice,  but  the  voice  of  begging 
prayer,  in  the  matter  of  our  own  salvation,  is  a 
galling  chain  to  the  spirit  of  man.  Nothing  but 
the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God  could  reconcile  any 
man  to  this  chain.  But  that  power  does  recon- 
cile to  it !  When  we  are  convinced  of  the  evil  of 
sin,  we  are  soon  convinced  that  God  is  not  neces- 
sarily bound  to  pardon  it,  and  that  he  would  not 
be  unjust,  even  if  he  refused  to  pardon  it.  This 
is  both  felt  and  confessed,  whenever  the  evil  of  sin 
is  thoroughly  brought  home  to  the  conscience. — 
Then,  our  difficulty  is,  to  see  how  God  can  do  any 
thing  else  than  allow  the  law  to  take  its  course 
against  us.  We  have  not  only  nothing  to  say  for 
ourselves,  in  bar  of  its  sentence ;  but  we  are  even 
afraid  to  plead  the  death  of  Christ  against  the 
curse ;  because  we  feel  that  we  deserve  condem- 
nation, quite  as  much  for  our  sins,  against  Christ, 
as  for  our  sins  against  law.  And  there  is  no  pre- 
tence in  all  this  !  We  do  not  aggravate  our  guilt 
or  danger,  in  order  to  conciliate  God  by  an  excess 


16 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


of  humility.  We  do  not  take  the  worst  view  of 
our  case,  in  the  hope  of  inducing  God  to  take  the 
best  view  of  it  We  are  not  bribing  mercy,  when 
we  declare  our  utter  unworthiness  of  any  mercy. 
No ;  whatever  homage  the  selt-condemnation  of 
a  penitent  pays  to  the  majesty  of  law  or  justice,  is 
disinterested.  It  is  the  Iionest  verdict  of  con- 
science, and  in  nowise  a  stratagem  to  evade  pun- 
ishment. 

So  it  is  also  in  the  submission  of  a  real  penitent, 
to  the  sovereignty  of  divine  grace.  His  professed 
submission  to  the  good  will  of  God,  is  not  a  clever 
nor  covert  plan  of  rnaking  that  will  good  in  his 
own  case.  He  knows  that  he  cannot  force  God 
to  save  him — nor  bribe  God — nor  circumvent  God, 
in  the  matter  of  salvation.  All  that  he  knows, 
even  when  he  thinks  most,  is,  that  self-condemna- 
tion is  a  becoming  spirit  on  the  part  of  a  sinner, 
and  the  only  spirit  at  all  likely  to  find  mercy.  All 
that  he  hopes,  when  he  hopes  most,  at  this  stage 
of  his  e.xperience,  is,  that  his  sense  of  utter  un- 
worthiness may  be  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
shutting  him  up  to  the  worthiness  of  the  Lamb 
slain.  Accordingly,  ho  casts  himself  simply  upon 
the  good  will  of  God.  He  is  reconciled  to  have  no 
other  warrant  for  hoping  in  Christ.  He  may  wish 
for  some  clue  to  the  divine  will — for  some  sign  or 
token  of  eventual  success :  but  lie  lies  down  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross  without  them,  leaving  the  issue 
m  the  hands  of  God. 

It  is  no  objection  against  the  simplicity  or  disin- 
terestedness of  this  submission  to  the  divine  will, 
that  the  penitent  would  not  be  thus  meek,  if  he 
thought  that  the  issue  would  be  against  him.  God 
has  not  called  on  him  to  think  so.  The  Holy  Spi- 
rit does  not  work  on  the  heart,  to  reconcile  the 
heart  to  condemnation,  or  to  the  loss  of  the  soul. 
He  convinces,  only  in  order  to  save  the  soul ;  and, 
therefore,  it  is  no  part  of  a  penitent's  duty,  and 
no  part  of  a  penitential  spirit,  to  be  willing  to  pe- 
rish. It  is  a  sin,  to  despair.  It  cannot,  therefore, 
be  a  virtue,  nor  a  mark  of  grace,  to  be  willing  to 
be  lost. 

This  is  so  obvious,  that  I  kniow  not  how  to  ex- 
plain the  conduct  of  those,  who  make  "  willing- 
ness to  be  lost,"  the  test  of  real  humility.  True ; 
they  qualify  the  requirement  of  such  humility  by 
adtoig,  "  if  it  would  be  for  the  glory  of  God,  that 
you  should  perish."  I  do  hope  that  we  mismider- 
stand  those  who  speak  thus !  They  must,  surely, 
mean  less  than  their  words  imply.  The  loss  of  a 
soul  can  bring  no  glory  to  God.  He  has  "no 
pleasure  in  the  death  of  a  sinner."  Judgment  is 
his  strange  work:  and,  therefore,  although  God 
will  be  perfectly  just  in  the  condemnation  of  the 
impenitent,  he  will  never  consider  himself  glorified 
by  it.  Goodness  is  the  glory  of  God !  Accord- 
ingly, when  Moses  requested  to  see  his  glory,  he 
said,  "I  will  make  all  my  goodness  pass  before 
thee." 

But  I  will  not  argue  this  point ;  for  I  cannot  be- 
lieve we  understand  the  local  meaning  of  the  im- 
scriptural  expression  I  refer  to. 

Observe  now,  how  the  Holy  Spirit  has  recon- 
ciled you,  by  the  cross,  to  the  exchisiveness  of  the 
divine  plan  of  saving  sinners.  He  has,  indeed, 
taught  you  nothing  upon  this  subject,  but 
what  is  written.     What  is  written, 


very  obnoxious  to  the  natural  mind. 


however, 
It  is, — that 


there  is  no  other  name  given  under  heaven,  where- 
by we  can  be  saved,  but  the  name  of  .Tesus.  It 
is, — that  other  foundation  (of  hope)  can  no  man 
lay,  than  that  is  laid ;  even  Christ.  Now  the  ut- 
most that  unrenewed  nature  will  cordially  allow, 
is,  that  this  may  be  one  way  of  salvation,  and  a 
very  good  way  for  those  who  like  it.  But,  that 
it  is  the  only  way  of  getting  to  heaven,  is  denied 
by  more  than  one  half  of  those  who  have  the  Bi- 
ble in  their  hands.  The  popular  maxim  is,  that 
there  are  as  many  ways  to  heaven,  as  there  are 
roads  to  London ;  and  all  equally  safe,  if  the  tra- 
vellers are  only  sincere. 

This  is  said,  indeed,  good-humoredly  ;  but  it  is 
a  malignant  sarcasm  upon  the  character  of  God, 
and  a  bitter  reflection  upon  his  word.  Accord- 
ingly the  good  humor  with  which  it  is  uttered  in 
company,  soon  gives  place  to  anger  or  scorn,  when 
the  maxim  is  flatly  denied.  Then,  it  comes  out, 
both  by  words  and  looks,  that  a  God  who  would 
only  save  in  one  way  is  not  at  all  to  the  taste  of 
the  majority.     They  hate  "such  strictness  !" 

I  speak  of  this  maxim,  not,  of  course,  as  it  is 
applied  to  the  forms  or  discipline  of  churches, 
(but  as  it  is  extended  to  all  creeds,  and  no  creed. 
It  is  perfectly  true,  that  there  are  as  many  ways 
to  heaven  as  there  are  churches,)  in  which  Christ 
is  made  "  all  in  all"  in  salvation.  The  diflference 
of  their  government,  does  not  hinder  the  Holy 
Spirit  from  blessing  the  preaching  of  the  cross  ; 
and,  therefore,  it  cannot  prevent  the  "crown  of 
glory."  But  this  is  not  true  of  all  creeds.  It  is 
not  true  of  any  creed,  in  which  the  cross  is  not 
the  only  refuge  of  the  guilty,  and  grace  the  only 
principle  of  piety.  It  is  false,  if  the  Bible  be  true. 
But  how  popular  is  this  maxim,  amongst  those 
who  do  not  think,  and  amongst  those  who  plume 
themselves  upon  thinking  freely  and  liberally ! 
And  you  and  I  have  been  saved  from  it  by  the 
teaching  of  the  Spirit !  We  are  glad  to  be  "  shut 
up"  to  Christ,  for  all  our  hope.     Well  we  may  ! 

And  now  observe,  how  the  Holy  Spirit  has  re- 
conciled you,  by  the  cross,  to  the  revealed  charac- 
ter of  God.  The  substance  of  that  character  is, 
that  "  God  is  love."  And  yet,  strange  to  say,  this 
is  the  chief  reason,  why  the  natural  mind  is  en- 
mity  against  God.  It  hates  his  love  far  more  than 
his  holiness.  And  for  an  obvious  reason  :  the 
real  love  of  God  is  paternal ;  and  thus  is  seen  to 
claim  the  heart :  it  is  redeeming  love  ;  and  thus 
is  seen  to  be  humbling :  it  is  sovereign  love ;  and 
thus  is  seen  to  be  unmeritable.  Were  it  love  that 
asked  for  little  return  of  affection,  and  accepted  of 
still  less  obedience,  men  woidd,  perhaps,  be  rather 
pleased  with  it  than  otherwise  ;  but  claiming,  as 
it  does  their  supreme  love,  and  their  immediate 
confidence,  they  hate  it  because  it  leaves  them 
without  excuse.  They  can  question  authority 
and  cavil  at  justice,  under  the  pretence  of  strict- 
ness or  severity  :  but  they  cannot  resist  love,  but 
by  resenting  it  as  needless  or  humiliating. 

Why  else  are  sublime  and  lofty  ideas  of  God, 
so  much  more  popular  in  the  world,  than  gentle 
and  lovely  ideas  of  his  character  1  O,  it  is  not 
from  nobility  of  mind,  nor  from  refinement « f  taste, 
that  the  grand  is  preferred  to  the  gracious,  and  the 
sublime  to  the  tender.  The  former  let  the  heart 
alone — let  the  conscience  alone — let  their  sins 
alone.    The  majestic  and  magnificent  play  arounc' 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


17 


the  head  and  amuse  the  imagination :  but  the  fact 
that  God  is  love,  cannot  be  trifled  with,  and,  there- 
fore, it  is  hated. 

■\A^liilst,  therefore,  I  admire  the  grace  of  the 
Spir>..  in  reconciling  the  heart  to  the  strictness  of 
divine  justice,  and  to  the  scrutiny  of  divine  omni- 
science, and  to  the  glory  of  divine  holiness,  I  adore 
it  for  reconcihng  the  heart  to  the  fulness  of  divine 
love — because  that  is  so  full  of  claims  upon  our 
affections,  and  confidence,  and  obedience.  It 
brings  all  duty  with  it,  in  irresistible  forms.  It 
makes  all  sin  appear  as  ungrateful,  as  criminal. 
It  places  us  so,  that  the  bare  idea  of  refusing  any 
part  of  the  divine  wiil,  becomes  monstrous,  as 
well  as  base.  Accordingly,  Paul  says,  "Hope 
maketh  not  ashamed,"  when  "  the  love  of  God  is 
shed  abroad  in  the  heart  by  the  Holy  Ghost." 
Then  it  begets  the  love  which  is  » the  fulfilling  of 
the  law  ;"  and  thus  leaves  us  to  act  on  David's 
principle,  "  I  shall  not  be  ashamed  when  I  have 
respect  to  all  thy  precepts." 

And,  now,  observe  how  the  H->ly  Spirit  has  re- 
conciled you,  by  the  cross,  to  the  dispensations  of 
Providence.  Our  reconciliation  to  God  is  not 
complete,  even  when  we  are  both  quite  willing 
and  thankful  to  be  entue  debtors  to  Christ  and 
grace  for  all  our  salvation.  Indeed,  we  are  not  a 
httle  inclined  to  calculate,  that  surely  Providence 
will  not  press  very  hard  upon  our  patience,  when 
our  faith  is  thus  cordially  given  to  the  Saviour. 
We  lay  our  account  with  having  some  trials  in  the 
world,  but  take  for  granted  that  they  will  not  be 
many  nor  mysterious.  They  turn  out,  however, 
to  be  of  a  kind,  or  in  a  degree,  we  did  not  expect : 
and  then  the  Holy  Spirit  has  to  begin  the  work  of 
reconcihation  anew.  For  it  is  no  uncommon  thing 
to  be  so  unhinged  by  worldly  reverses  or  disap- 
pointments, that  the  very  form  as  well  as  spirit  of 
piety  goes  to  wreck  for  a  time. 

It  is  all  very  well,  for  it  is  very  true,  to  say  that 
the  path  of  the  just,  hke  the  light,  "  shineth  more 
and  more,  to  the  perfect  day."  Those,  however, 
who  think  before  they  speak,  and  whilst  speaking, 
say  this,  remembering  that  the  sun  is  often  cloud- 
ed, and  sometimes  totally  eclipsed.  And  the 
clouds  of  calamity,  owing  to  the  weakness  of  our 
faith,  and  from  our  proneness  to  walk  by  sense, 
can  so  liide  the  wisdom  of  Providence,  that  we 
soon  lose  sight  of  both  the  work  and  worth  of 
grace  for  a  time.  It  is  not,  in  general,  the  first 
heavy  pressure  of  "the  mighty  hand  of  God," 
which  we  bear  humbly,  or  interpret  fairly.  We 
are  but  too  ready  to  judge  of  his  heart  by  his 
hand ;  and  thus  our  owti  hearts  rebel  or  murmur 
agamst  him,  until  we  seem,  even  to  -jurselves,  to 
have  no  submission  to  his  will. 

Tliis  is  the  state  of  mind  which  the  Spirit  has 
to  subdue.  We  have  not  only  to  be  reconciled  to 
the  crosses  we  groan  under,  but  also  to  the  cross 
of  Christ,  which  permits  them,  and  to  the  govern- 
ment of  God,  which  appoints  them. 

How  many  will  join  me  in  wondering  and  ador- 
ing, that  the  love  of  the  Spirit  has  reconciled  us 
to  privations  and  sorrows,  which,  at  first,  seemed 
to  harden  our  hearts  against  God,  and  to  ahenate 
them  from  the  Saviour,  and  to  make  them  reck- 
less of  eternal  consequences  ?  Our  troubles  would 
have  done  all  this,  had  not  the  Spirit  lifted  up 
a  standard  in  the  midst  of  them,  which  claimed  us. 


No.  V. 

THE   LOVE   OF   THE   SPIKIT   IN   ADOPTION. 

It  does  not  at  all  lessen  our  admiration  of  the 
love  of  Christ  in  redemption  that  God  "  sent  Him 
forth"  to  redeem  them  who  were  under  the  law, 
that  they  might  receive  the  adoption  of  sons.  He 
was  sent  forth  by  the  Father  ;  but  he  also  ^^came 
forth"  as  wilUngly  as  the  Father  sent  him.  The 
fulness  of  time  could  scarcely  be  heard,  when 
saying,  "Go,"  so  promptly,  cheerfully,  and  loudly, 
did  he  say,  "  Lo,  I  come ;  I  delight  to  do  thy  will, 
O  my  God."     Psa.  xl. 

Well ;  just  in  the  same  way  the  love  of  the 
Spirit,  in  adoption,  is  brought  before  us.  He,  too, 
was  "  sent  forth ;"  not,  indeed,  to  adopt  or  redeem 
children  to  God  ;  but  to  regenerate  all  the  adopt- 
ed, and  to  sanctify  all  the  redeemed  family  of  God. 
And  to  do  this,  the  Eternal  Spirit  came  forth,  at 
his  Pentecostal  fulness  of  time,  as  promptly  and 
willingly  as  the  Father  sent  him  or  as  Christ 
came  at  the  fulness  of  his  mediatorial  time. 

Very  different,  indeed,  was  the  kind  of  work 
which  the  Father  gave  them  to  do  in  the  world. 
The  Spirit  had  not,  like  the  Son,  to  come  forth  in 
the  likeness  of  man,  nor  in  the  form  of  a  servant, 
nor  at  all  in  the  capacity  of  a  sufferer.  No  man- 
ger, with  its  privations ;  no  Gethsemane,  with  its 
cup  of  wrath  ;  no  Calvary,  with  its  cross,  await- 
ed his  advent.  Humiliation,  agony,  and  death, 
were  the  tests  and  trials  of  the  love  of  Christ 
alone.  Only  his  heart  bled  or  broke  for  the  re- 
demption of  the  adopted.  "In  bringing  many  sons 
to  glory,"  Christ  alone  had  to  be  made  "perfect 
through  suffering." 

This  creates  a  distinction  all  but  infinite  be- 
tween the  work  of  Christ  and  the  work  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  It  does  not,  however,  create  such 
a  wide  distinction  between  their  love  as  there  is 
between  their  ivork ;  nor  such  a  marked  distinc- 
tion as  to  forbid  the  mention  of  the  love  of  the 
Spirit  when  the  love  of  Clu-ist  is  celebrated :  for, 
there  is  no  more  danger  of  detracting  from,  or  of 
hiding,  the  love  of  the  Saviour,  by  exhibiting  the 
love  of  the  Spirit,  than  by  exhibiting  the  love  of 
the  Father  ;  except,  indeed,  the  exhibition  be  un- 
fair, or  disproportionate,  or  designing. 

It  must,  however,  be  confessed,  and  should 
never  be  forgotten,  that  the  love  of  God  has  been 
exalted  and  exaggerated,  by  some  writers,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  hiding  all  the  glorious  peculi- 
arities of  both  the  love  and  work  of  Christ.  Such 
love  is  ascribed,  by  modern  Socinians,  to  the  Fa- 
ther, as  would,  if  true,  render  the  atonement  un- 
necessary, and  the  love  of  Christ  but  human. 
And  we  have  lately  seen  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit 
exalted  above  the  preaching  of  the  cross,  even 
when  nothing  beyond  "  unknown  tongues"  was 
pretended  to.  It  is,  therefore,  possible  to  have  a 
sinister  purpose  in  emblazoning  the  love  of  the 
Spirit.  It  may  be  employed  sometimes,  as  the 
love  of  God  has  been  already,  to  eclipse  the  glory 
and  grace  of  the  Saviour.  Indeed,  the  light  of 
the  Spirit  is,  at  present,  made  of  more  importance 
by  some,  than  the  death  of  Christ  and  the  word 
of  God.  I,  therefore,  write,  and  would  have  you 
read  and  judge,  with  a  jealousy  equally  scrupulous 
and  scrutinizing.     I  have  taken  my  place,  in  stu- 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


living  tliis  subject,  in  tlic  very  centre  of  "the 
h'ei.'hts  and  depths,  tlie  lengtlis  and  breadths,"  of 
the"  love  of  Christ,  which  passeth  knowlcdjre  ; 
that  tlius  I  inav  ascribe  notliin«rto  the  Spirit  wlmh 
bvlongs  to  Chrisi  ;  nor  so  present  what  belonrrs 
to  the  Spirit  as  to  hide  any  of  the  wonders  of  re- 
deeming love. 

On  the  other  hand,  however,  equal  care  ouglit 
to  be  taken  tliat  wo  neither  overlook  nor  under- 
rate any  part  of  the  work  of  the  Spirit,  or  of  the 
wondrous  love  which  distinjruislies  his  operations. 
Now,  in  r.-'.'anl  to  adoption,  all  the  children  of 
(i,Kl  are  "bom  ;i|raiii  of  the  Spirit,"  "led  by  the 
Si)irit,"  and  •'  seiUcd  by  the  Spirit."  In  Ukc  man- 
n.-r,  all  tlu-ir  knowledge  and  enjoyment  of  their 
adoption  comt-s  from  his  witness  to  its  truth. 
Hence  I'aul  says  "  The  Spirit  beareth  witness 
with  our  spirit  that  we  are  the  children  of  God." 
Rom.  viii.  Hi.  For  these  and  similar  reasons,  the 
Comforter  is  expressly  and  emphatically  called 
"  the  Spirit  of  .\doption." 

With  such  fee ts  before  us,  there  can  be  neither 
danger  nor  difficulty  in  tracing,  even  minutely,  the 
lo*e  of  the  Spirit,  as  iliat  is  manifested  in  connec- 
tion with  adoption.  It  shines  brightly  even  in  the 
preliminary  step  of  convincing  us  that  our  natural 
relationship  to  ( Jod,  as  "  the  Father  of  our  spirits," 
in  not  soiiship.  We  arc  all,  indeed,  by  creation, 
"hiH  offspring."  Yes;  and,  by  nature,  we  should 
all  trust  to  th;it,  as  enough  for  safety.  So  prone 
in  the  human  mind  to  rest  satisfied  with  mere  na- 
tur.il  and  nominal  relations  to  God,  that  the  Jews 
reckoned  themselves  the  children  of  God  because 
they  were  tin;  "  seed  of  Abraham,"  and  although 
tlus  pn-sumpturnm  fallacy  was  met  and  uinnasked 
by  the  startling  oracle,  "  God  is  able  of  these 
Mom-H  to  raise  up  children  to  Abraham,"  many 
have  taught,  and  more  believed,  even  in  the  f;ic"o 
of  John  tlie  Haptist's  protest,  that  baptism  makes 
an  infant  a  child  of  God,  and  an  lieir  of  the  king- 
dom of  heavi-n. 

We  may  never  have  attached  any  such  impor- 
tance to  our  baptism,  nor  founded  any  claim  or 
hopi.'  ujKin  our  (lescent  from  pious  parents :  but 
»hc  time  was  wh«'n  we  tfwk  for  granted  that  we 
nerded  no  nrarcr  rel.uioimhii)  to  God  than  our 
birth  in  a  Christian  land  gave  us.  When  we 
8prik«  of  God.  it  was  a.s  our  maker  chiefly,  if  not 
only.  We  .iddressed  him,  indeed,  as  "our  Father," 
when  we  r<|)iMi..d  the  Ixird's  prayer;  but  we 
lliouifht  of  him  only  as  our  creator  and  preserver; 
»nd  never  dr-anit,  that  he  who  made  us  could 
have  '•  no  mercy  upon  us,"  apart  from  redeeming 
m  from  t|ic  curse  of  the  law  by  the  death  of  hi 
Hon. 

Thw  delubion  did  not  end  with  our  childhood.- 
It  would  never  have  ended  by  age  or  e.\perience, 
had  not  tlie  Holy  Spirit  convinced  us,  that  "we 
were  bji  nature  the  children  of  wrath,  .la  well  as 
othcni.  •  K|)li.  li.  3.  This  conviction  is  his  work 
upon  llie  Houl.  wlierever  it  is  an  humbling  convic- 
tion.    .And  whit  but   love, — even  great  love, 

could  havt-  induced  him  to  implant  it  in  any  eoul  ] 
P'or  no  truth,  perhaps,  is  more  hateful  to  the  natu- 
ral mind  ;  it  exasjwrates,  as  well  as  mortifies,  our 
pndo  Oh,  It  w;ui  "a  night  much  to  be  remcm- 
ber.-d  before  the  Lord,"  when  we  first  applied  this 
humbling  truth  to  ourselves,  and  said  of  ourselves, 
•*  \Vc  arc  the  children  if  wrath  as  well  as  others  T 


There  was  more  than  our  Bible  with  us  in  our 
closet  then :— "  Verily,  God  was  in  thai  place," 
whether  we  knew  it,  or  not,  at  the  time.  We,  in- 
deed, were  reading,  or  praying,  or  pondering  ;  but 
it  was  the  Spirit,  working  mightily,  who  unveiled 
to  us  the  solemn  fact,  that  we  were  both  aliens 
and  outcasts  from  the  special  family  of  God.— 
Thus,  it  is  owing  to  the  love  of  the  Spirit  that  we 
came  to  know,  so  as  to  feel  and  confess,  the  ne- 
cessity of  being  "  born  again,"  before  we  could 
be  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Lord  Almighty. 
It  will  be  easy  and  delightful  now  to  trace  the 
love  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  creating  the  desire  to  be 
the  children  of  God.  Did  you  ever  observe  how 
that  desire  arises  in  the  mind  of  a  penitent?  It 
is  not  the  Jirst  wish  of  a  broken  and  contrite 
spirit. 

"  Call  me  a  child  of  thine !" 

is  not  tnc  first  prayer  which  springs  from  the  heart 
to  the  lips,  when  we  feel  ourselves  to  be  children 
of  wrath  by  nature.  Penitents,  in  general,  adopt 
instinctively  the  prayer  of  the  prodigal,  "Make 
me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants,  lor  1  ain  no  more 
worthy  to  be  called  tliy  son." 

You  remember  that  you  would  have  been  con- 
tent, yea,  well  pleased,  to  be  restored  to  the  favor 
of  God,  in  any  capacity,  or  relation,  which  would 
have  placed  your  soul  in  safety.  To  he  on  the 
right  hand,  at  the  judgment-seat,  however  far  off 
from  the  spot  where  crowns  of  glory  were  falling  : 
to  be  in  heaven  for  ever,  however  obscure  or  un- 
noticed, would  have  more  than  satisfied  your  soul, 
at  first.  You  could  not  sec  then,  how  God  could 
"put  you  among  the  children,  and  give  you  a 
goodly  heritage,"  in  the  general  assembly  and 
church  of  the  first-born,  whose  names  are  written 
in  heaven,  and  whose  mansions  are  near  the 
throne.  You  would  have  counted  it  "joy  unspeak- 
able and  full  of  glory"  for  you,  to  have  had  the 
prospect  of  serving  the  servants  of  God,  by  car- 
rying their  harps  after  them  on  the  sea  of  glass, 
or  by  helping  them  to  cast  their  crowns  at  the  feet 
of  the  Lamb.  Y'ou  thought  of  no  crown  nor  harp 
for  yourself;  but  felt,  that  you  could  adore  the 
Lamb  for  ever  without  either,  if  only  permitted  to 
be  where  he  is. 

Now  there  was  real  humility  in  all  this :  but  it 
was  not  so  wise,  as  it  was  well-meant,  nor  so  very 
humble  as  it  seems.  P^or,  as  this  is  not  the  form 
in  which  eternal  life  is  promised  or  presented  to 
any  one  by  the  gospel,  so  it  is  not  a  form  in  which 
It  should  be  sought  or  desired,  by  any  one.  It  is, 
remember,  "many  sons,"  or  only  as  children,  that 
God  wiU  bring  to  glory.  Hob.  ii.  10.  Accordingly, 
the  Holy  Spirit  did  not  allow  your  hopes  or  de- 
sires to  rest  satisfied  with  the  bare  prospect  of 
just  escaping  hell,  and  entering  heaven  at  last.— 
He  led  them  out,  however  gradually,  to  seek  for 
an  interest  in  the  great  atonement— for  the  re- 
generating power  of  grace— for  conformity  to  the 
divme  image ;  and  thus  led  them  on  to  embrace 
the  prospects  of  the  gospel,  as  well  as  the  promises 
ot  It ;  and  to  lay  hold  of  eternal  hfe,  just  as  Christ 
has  revealed  it. 

Do  you  not  see  the  love  of  the  Spirit  in  this  1 
Consider ;  had  you  been  left  to  take  up  with  the 
mere  liope  of  escaping  hell,  or  of  being  merely  "a 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


19 


hired  servant,"  in  your  father's  house,  you  would  : 
soon  have  relaxed  in  prayer  to  God,  and  in  de- 
pendance  on  Christ.  Tliere  is,  alas,  but  too  little  ; 
of  both  maintained,  even  when  a  hope  full  of  im-  \ 
mortality  is  takea  up :  and  there  would  be  still 
less,  if  less  than  "  the  glory  to  be  revealed"  were  ' 
permitted  to  become  the  final  object  of  desire  or  ^ 
pursuit.  i 

Besides ;  it  is  of  immense  importance,  yea,  ab-  ! 
solutely  necessary,  to  be  led  on  to  the  desire  of  i 
full  adoption  into  the  family  of  God.  WiUingness  j 
to  be  a  servant  is  all  very  weE,  as  a  feeling  ;  but 
as  a  principle,  it  does  not,  and  cannot,  produce  i 
either  the  kind  or  the  degree  of  service  which 
God  requires.  Indeed,  when  it  is  thoroughly  sift-  ' 
ed,  as  a  principle,  it  will  be  found  somewhat  un- 
holy as  well  as  slothful.  Our  hearts,  remember, 
are  very  deceitful,  and  quite  capable  of  preferring 
that  relationship  to  God,  which  involves  the  fewest 
sacrifices,  and  the  least  serving.  It  is,  therefore, 
just  as  possible  to  hold  back  from  embracing  the 
hope  of  souship,  m  order  to  avoid  the  duties  of 
children,  as  to  keep  back  from  the  sacrament,  in 
order  to  stand  clear  of  its  pecuhar  moral  obliga- 
tions and  responsibilities.  More  is  expected  from 
children  than  from  servants,  in  life  :  and  in  godli- 
ness, this  is  soon  discovered  to  be  still  more  true. 
O,  it  is  well  that  the  Comforter  is  "the  Spirit  of 
adoption!"  By  tliis,  he  proves  himself  to  be  the 
Spirit  of  sanctification  and  holiness.  For  it  is 
sonship  alone,  that  is  seen  and  felt  to  call  for  filial, 
cheertul,  and  impartial  obedience.  It  is  the  duty 
of  being  "  followers  of  God  as  dear  children," 
,  that  explains  and  enforces  "  following  the  Lord 
I  fully." 

Consider  now  the  love  of  the  Spirit  in  fixing 
and  exercising  the  mind  of  penitents,  with  God's 
solemn  question, — "  How  shall  I  put  thee  amongst 
the  children'!"  Jer.  iii.  29.  It  is  a  remarkable 
fact,  that  all  the  truly  penitent,  however  intent 
upon  escaping  the  wrath  to  come,  are  yet  deeply 
concerned  for  the  honor  of  God  in  their  salvation. 
I  mean,  that  they  wish  to  see  how  a  holy  and  just 
God  can,  consistently,  save  them.  Their  chief 
difficulty  lies  here. 

This  is  not  what  might  naturally  be  expected 
from  a  sinner,  when  he  is  shrinking  from  "  a  fear- 
ful looking  for  of  judgment  and  fiery  indignation." 
Then,  it  might  be  supposed,  that  he  would  care  for 
nothing  but  his  own  safety — that  he  would  catch 
at  any  hope  of  escape,  without  one  thought  about 
the  glory  of  God — that  he  would  count  any  kind 
of  salvation,  in  any  way,  enough  for  him.  But  a 
penitent  does  not.  The  louder  he  cries,  "  Who 
can  dwell  with  devouring  fire  and  everlasting  burn- 
ings V  the  oftener  he  asks,  "  How  can  man  be 
just  with  God?"  The  more  he  feels  his  danger, 
the  more  he  wishes  to  be  honorably  deUvered 
from  the  wrath  to  come. 

There  is  more  in  this  concern  for  the  honor  and 
consistency  of  God,  than  can  be  explained  fully 
by  the  fact,  that  we  know  him  too  well  to  suppose 
that  he  could  show  mercy  at  the  expense  of  law 
or  justice.  This  consideration  has,  of  course,  no 
small  influence  upon  us.  It  ought  to  have  much. 
But  still,  there  is  more  m  this  state  of  mind,  than 
the  conviction  that  God  must  act  in  character,  or 
in  harmony  with  all  the  perfections  of  his  nature, 
and  principles  of  his  government.    There  is,  also, 


an  anxious  and  honest  desire  to  see  God  just,  in 
justifying :  to  see  God  glorified,  in  saving.  Ac- 
cordingly, until  something  of  this  is  seen,  no  peni- 
tent ventures  to  answer  God's  question, — "  How 
can  I  put  thee  amongst  the  cliUdren  V 

This,  however,  is  just  the  question,  for  drawing 
us  to  search  the  Scriptures,  that  we  may  ascer- 
tain whether  there  be  any  way  in  which  God  can 
be  merciful  to  us,  without  injury  to  his  character. 
And  is  not  the  love  of  the  Spirit  illustrious,  in  thus 
throwing  us  upon  an  inquiry,  that  throws  us  di- 
rectly upon  the  gospel?  Were  our  great  question 
only — how  shall  I  become  better,  or  how  shall  I 
resist  temptation  in  future?  we  might,  and  most 
likely  should,  stop  short  of  the  cross  of  Christ,  and 
think  only  of  our  need  of  some  divine  help.  But 
the  question — how  can  I  become  an  adopted,  ac- 
cepted, and  beloved  child  of  God  ?  cannot  be  an- 
swered by  any  prospect  of  mere  help,  however 
great.  It  is  unanswerable,  until  we  discover  that 
for  this  very  purpose,  or  that  we  might  be  "dear 
children,"  Christ  both  died  and  rose  again.  How 
wise  and  kind  it  is,  therefore,  1)0  fix  and  exercise 
our  hopes  and  fears,  with  a  point  upon  which  we 
can  obtain  no  real  satisfaction,  but  by  finding  out 
from  the  word  of  God,  that  he  sent  his  Son  to  re- 
deem them  who  were  under  the  law,  just  "  that 
we  might  receive  the  adoption  of  sons."  Gal.  iv. 
5.  Truly,  the  Spirit  is  often  a  Comforter,  when 
we  do  not  think  liim  so.  Yes  ;  his  work  is  often 
in  tender  love,  when  we  suspect  him  of  desertion 
or  denial.  We,  no  doubt,  thought,  when  turning 
over  and  over  in  our  minds,  the  absorbing  inquiry, 
"  Am  I  a  child  of  God — shall  I  ever  be  one  of  his 
family  ?" — that  it  was  very  trying,  and  somewhat 
strange,  that  we  could  come  to  no  settled  conclu- 
sion !  But  see  now — what  love  regulated  all  the 
work  of  the  Spu-it,  in  this  apparent  "  standing  afar 
off."  He  was  thus  taking  care,  that  we  should 
come  near  enough  to  the  cross,  by  the  Scriptures, 
to  see  in  it,  and  for  ourselves,  that  the  great  sacri- 
fice which  made  mercy  free,  made  adoption  equal- 
ly free ;  that  the  blood  which  cleanseth  from  all 
sin,  cancels  all  unworthiness,  and  gives  power, 
right,  and  welcome,  to  all  who  receive  Christ 
crucified,  to  regard  themselves  as  the  children  of 
God. 

There  is  much  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit  mani- 
fested^ in  thus  shutting  up  penitents  "  to  the  faith" 
of  the  gospel,  for  the  relief  of  their  anxieties 
about  sonship.  No  direct  witness  of  the  Spirit 
with  their  own  spirit  could,  under  orduiary  cir- 
cumstances, do  tliem  so  much  good.  It  might  be 
more  agreeable  to  us,  to  have  a  sense  of  sonship, 
or  the  consciousness  of  adoption,  borne  in  upon 
our  minds  by  an  impulse  ;  but  it  would  neitlier  be 
so  profitable  or  safe.  We  should  be  in  no  small 
danger  of  attaching  more  value  to  it,  than  to  the 
cross  ;  and  in  great  danger  of  makmg  less  use  of 
our  Bibles.  The  Holy  Spirit,  therefore,  does  not 
give  a  sense  of  any  thing,  which  would  set  aside 
or  lessen  the  necessity  of  "  a  life  of  faith"  on  the 
son  of  God.  He  witnesses  to  no  sonship,  but  what 
is  drawn  from  the  cross,  and  held  at  the  cross,  by 
humble  and  prayerful  faith.  Accordingly,  even 
those  cloudless  and  glorious  discoveries  of  sonsliip 
which  hallow  and  enshrine  the  death-bed  of  some 
saints,  are,  most  likely, — indeed  certainly, — all 
made  tlurough  the  medium  of  their  former  experi- 


20 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


mental  knowledge  of  the  ^ace  and  power  of 
Christ ;  then,  (fathered  into  one  full-orbed  sight 
of  tlic  Lamb  slain  !  I  mean,— that  the  Spirit's 
wiuiess  then,  is  not  to  their  worth,  but  to  the 
worthiness  of  the  Lamb.  It  seals,  or  accredits,  of 
coun-c,  tiieir  sincerity  as  the  followers  of  the  Lamb 
— but  It  shines  fromlJie  Sun  of  Righteousness  him- 
Fclf  Yes ;  the  life  of  faitli  is  at  its  height,  when 
even  the  holiest  Christians  are  dying,  whether  in 
triumph  or  Iranquilhty. 

The  witness  of  the  Holy  Spirit  with  the  spirits 
of  the  ciiildrea  of  God,  to  their  adoption,  is,  con- 
ffs«?dly,  a  difficult  subject.  One  thing,  however, 
ta  certain, — and  sheds  great  light  upon  both  his 
love  and  witness, — that  he  does  not  witness 
against  the  testimony  of  our  own  spirits,  but  rvith 
il.  When  our  own  heart  or  conscience  condemns 
as  for  known  sin,  or  for  heartless  prayer — or  for 
allowed  inconsistencies— or  for  the  indulgence  of 
unliallowed  tempers  and  worldly-mindedness, — 
the  Holy  Spint  is  too  holy;  yes,  and  loves  us  too 
well,  to  shine  upog  our  souls.  He  bears  witness 
to  our  adoption,  only  when  our  own  spirit  witnesses 
that  we  are  honestly  trying  to  walk  worthy  of 
our  high  calling.  When  we  cease  to  conduct 
ountelves  as  tJie  children  of  God,  the  Comforter 
ccd.M.-s  to  act  as  the  Spirit  of  adoption,  until  we 
return  to  filial  obedience  and  submission. 

Thi.s  is  real  love  to  us.  For  if  we  could  re- 
t.iin  the  sense  of  sonship,  after  having  lost  the 
►pint  of  prayer ;  or  could  we  carry  the  hope  of 
adoption,  into  the  patiis  of  backsliding,  witliout 
diiiHiung  it,  we  sliould  soon  become  prayerless,  if 
not  apostate. 

So  far,  the  rule  of  the  Spirit's  witness  is  as  plain, 
as  it  in  wise  and  holy.  There  are,  however,  not 
a  few  very  exemplary  Christians,  whose  own  spi- 
ri!«  bear  them  witni'S-s  that  they  are  trying  to 
walk  wiUi  (iod,  and  to  lean  entirely  upon  Christ, 
and  to  act  ai<  children  ;  and  yet  they  say,  that  they 
are  "  utter  strangers  to  the  spirit  of  adoption." 
Now,  what  sliall  I  say  to  this  !  Few;  perhaps, 
have  Been  oftonor,  or  corresponded  more  with  this 
rLisx,  than  mvself.  None  can  tell  the  dilemmas  I 
h.ive  been  placed  in,  by  cases  of  this  kind,  when 
I  have  ha/1  to  answer  startling  questions,  upon  the 
r()ur  of  the  moment,  to  the  victims  of  depression 
and  dr>H[x)ndeiicy :— a  cla-ss  more  numerous  than 
iiisny  HuinKxsf,  and  more  tempted  than  I  sus[>ect- 
•  d.  Often  (and  that  just  in  order  to  throw  their 
ilioiightH  into  a  new  channel,  and  thus  to  gain  a 
li-aring)  have-  I  been  comiwlled,  whilst  my  heart 
w.Ai<  blecdin.'  with  sympafhy,  to  ask  with  a  smile, 
"  \  <!  u\<-n  of  (Jidilee,  why  stand  ye  gazing  up  to 
h.-aven  for  Uie  spirit  of  adoption,  without  gazing 
"ti  your  UihloH,  at  the  same  time,  for  the  law  of 
.■uloption'  I|.,w  can  you  expect  the  Spirit  to 
wiinci«  to  y„ur  sonship,  if  you  will  not  "hear 
what  tho  Sj„r,t  sailh"  to  them  who  have  fled  to 
(  hrwl  ?  Ih..i  m,_ihal  to  as  many  as  have  re- 
<<-ive»l  Christ,  or  Micvcd  on  his  name,  he  ffives 
p-wer  to  ber..mn  (or  empowers  them  to  consider 
lhemi.c.lvc-s)  the  children  of  God.  Here  is  the  re- 
vale,]  and  written  fan,  that  all  who  believe  with 
he  heart,  are  warranted  and  welcome  to  regard 
ihemsrlyes  aij  "  the  children  of  God  by  faitt.  in 
Jos.,.,  Uinst :  and,  if  you  refuse  to  take  the  word 
"t  the  Spirit  tor  tins  fact,  how  ran  you  expect  him 
to  w.u.c«  with  your  spirit!     Wh;;  were  you "o 


reason  in  other  things,  as  you  do  in  thia  matter, 
you  would  render  your  Bible  of  no  use.  But  you 
take  the  word  of  the  Spirit,  for  the  fact  of  your 
sin,  your  danger,  your  weakness,  and  your  de- 
pendance  ;  why  not,  then,  for  your  adoption  ?  It 
is  just  as  true,  that  the  penitents  are  all  the  chil- 
dren of  God  by  grace,  as  that  the  impenitent  are 
all  the  children  of  wrath  by  nature.  You  are  just 
as  welcome  to  consider  yourself  a  child  of  God,  as 
you  are  willing  to  be  a  debtor  to  Christ  and  a  ser- 
vant to  God.  Yes  ;  willing  servants  (made  so  by 
the  cross)  are  welcome  sons  and  daughters  of  the 
Lord  Almighty. 


No.  VI. 


THE  LOVE  OF  THE  SPIRIT   IN   ILLUMINATION. 

It  is  by  far  too  common  to  confine  the  expression, 
"After  ye  were  illuminated," — to  the  first  en- 
trance of  divine  light  into  the  mind.  That,  in- 
deed, is  illumination,  as  contrasted  with  the  former 
blindness  of  the  mind,  just  as  the  dawn  is  light, 
compared  with  darkness ;  but  it  no  more  amounts 
to  the  illumination  of  the  Spirit,  than  the  first  faint 
streaks  of  the  morning,  to  daylight.  It  is  spiritual 
light ;  but  not  spiritual  illumination  ;  for  although 
these  are  the  same  in  kind,  they  differ  as  much  in 
degree,  as  the  second  power  of  vision  given  to 
the  blind  man  at  Bethsaida.  He  saw,  after  the 
first  touch  of  the  Saviour's  hand :  but  he  only  saw 
"men,  as  trees,  walking."  It  was  when  Jesus 
"put  his  hands  again  upon  his  eyes,  and  made 
him  look  up,"  that  he  was  "restored,  and  saw 
every  man  clearly."     Mark  viii.  24. 

Whilst,  therefore,  it  becomes  us  to  say,  from 
the  very  first  entrance  of  the  feeblest  rays  of  di- 
vine light,  "  One  thing  I  know,  that  whereas  I  was 
blind,  I  now  see,"  it  is  very  unwise  to  call  this  il- 
lumination. It  is  a  change  "from  darkness  to 
light ;"  but  not  a  translation  "out  of  darkness  into 
marvellous  light :"  for  when  he  who  commanded 
the  light  of  the  day  to  shine  out  of  the  darkness 
of  chaos,  shines  into  the  mind,  he  gives  "  the  light 
of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face 
of  Jesus ;"  and  that  is  not,  usually,  the  first,  nor 
the  clearest  discovery  of  a  newly  enlightened 
mmd.  Accordingly,  in  general,  our  first  spiritual 
views  of  God  are  somewhat  alarming.  It  is  his 
glory,  not  in  "  the  face  of  Jesus,"  but  rather  in  the 
face  of  the  law,  or  of  the  judgment-seat,  or  o. 
eternity,  that  we  see  then.  Hence  we  say  then, 
like  Isaiah,  "  Wo  is  me ;  for  I  am  undone,  for 
mine  eyes  have  seen  the  king,  the  Lord  of  hosts." 
Isa.  VI.  5.  Or,  with  Job,  "I  have  heard  of  thee 
by  the  heanng  of  the  ear ;  but  now  mine  eye  seeth 
thee :  wherefore  I  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in 
dust  and  ashes."    Job  xhi.  5, 6. 

This  self-abasement,  and  this  self-condemnation, 
are  indeed  felt,  even  more  deeply,  although  less 
painfully,  when  the  mind  discovers  the  glory  of 
t.od  111  the  face  ot  Jesus,  or  sees  how  "  God  is  in 
Christ,  reconciling  the  worid  unto  himself."  No- 
thing melts  or  humbles  like  « this  great  sight."  No 
Avhirlwmd,  earthquake,  or  fire  of  conviction,  brings 
tJie  mantle  of  godly  sorrow  so  fully  or  closely  over 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


21 


the  face,  as  the  small  still  voice  of  a  reconciling 
God.  That  produces  just  the  effect,  and  all  the 
effect,  foretold  in  prophecy, — Thou  shalt  "  remem- 
ber and  be  confounded,  and  never  open  thy  mouth 
any  more  because  of  thy  shame,  vi'hen  I  am  paci- 
fied towards  thee  for  all  that  thou  hast  done,  saith 
the  Lord  God."     Ezek.  xvi.  63. 

This  is  illumination  !  Our  awful  views  of  God, 
as  holy  and  just,  were  light :  but  this  is  "  marvel- 
lous light ;"  sustaining  all  the  majesty  of  liis  hoh- 
ness  and  justice,  and  yet  softening  and  enshrining 
both,  with  pardoning  mercy  and  paternal  love. 
And  until  God  is  seen  somewhat  in  this  lovely 
light,  we  are  not  illuminated  so,  that,  hke  the  He- 
brews, we  could  "  endure  a  great  fight  of  afflic- 
tions," or  even  be  calculated  upon  for  steadfastness 
in  the  faith.  It  is  the  illumination  of  the  Spirit, 
not  the  dawn  of  his  light,  that  produces  well-doing 
and  enduring  Christians. 

This  distinction  between  some  light,  and  con- 
siderable illumination,  will  go  far  in  explaining 
that  sad  oversight  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  which 
is  so  common  amongst  many,  who  are  certainly 
not  strangers  to  the  work  of  the  Spirit.  They 
think  nothiiig  love,  but  comfort ;  nothing  sympa- 
thy, but  consolation  :  and,  as  they  are  uncomforta- 
ble, they  are  ready  to  conclude  that  they  are  un- 
converted, and  thus  not  loved  by  the  Spirit  at  all. 
This  conclusion  is  often  drawn  by  the  weary  and 
heavy  laden,  who,  although  seeking  rest  to  their 
souls,  cannot  find  any  "  quiet  rest ;"  and  it  would 
be  oftener  drawn,  were  they  not  glad  to  cling  to 
any  thing,  which  was  any  proof  or  token  that  they 
are  not  given  up  to  a  reprobate  mind.  It  is  their 
dread  of  being  rejected,  or  "  let  alone,"  by  God 
entirely,  that  makes  them  so  willing  to  hear  the 
best  construction  put  upon  their  fears  and  distress. 
These  are  not  removed,  nor  much  relieved,  but 
they  are  alleviated,  by  the  kind  mterpretations, 
which  ministers  and  pious  friends  give  of  such 
symptoms.  It  is  something,  and  that  something 
is  not  a  little  to  a  trembhng  conscience,  or  a  sink- 
ing heart,  to  be  told  kindly — that  "  God  would  not 
have  showed  you  such  things,  had  he  intended  no 
mercy ; — you  would  not  feel  as  you  do  if  God  had 
given  you  up ; — a  reprobate  mind  is  a  reckless 
mind ;  a  seared  conscience  is  past  feeling.  But 
this  is  not  your  case ;  you  are  in  a  far  more 
liopeful  state  now  that  you  are  afraid  to  hope,  than 
you  were  whilst  you  had  no  fears." 

There  is  not,  indeed,  much  of  the  gospel  in  all 
this  ;  but  still  it  is  "  a  word  in  season  to  the  weary," 
which  often  enables  them  to  "  look  again"  to  the 
gospel,  or  inclines  them  to  try  again  to  find  peace. 
In  like  manner,  they  are  somewhat  encouraged, 
although  not  exactly  comforted,  when  ministers  or 
friends  reason  with  them  "  out  of  the  Scriptures," 
showing,  from  the  case  of  the  Ephesians,  that 
there  is  not  only  love,  but  "great  love,"  manifest- 
ed in  quickening  a  sinner  from  spiritual  death. 
"God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  for  his  great  love 
wherewith  he  loved  us,  even  when  we  were  dead 
in  sins,  hath  quickened  us  toget'  °r  with  Christ." 
Eph.  ii.  4,  5. 

It  is  not  common  to  quote,  as  I  have  done,  the 
words,  "  together  with  Christ ;"  much  less  to  add 
the  words  which  follow,  "  and  hath  raised  us  up 
together,  and  made  us  sit  together  in  heavenly 
places  in   Christ  Jesus."     Verse  6.     All  this  is 


usually  omitted,  when  reasoning,  with  the  timid 
and  trembling,  from  the  fact  of  their  quickening, 
to  the  fact  of  God's  love  to  their  souls  :  omitted, 
however,  not  treacherously  nor  heedlessly,  but  in 
tenderness  to  their  feelings,  and  in  the  hope  that 
spiritual  life  may  soon  be  followed  by  spiritual  joy. 
These  two  thmgs  are  often  separate  for  a  time,  in 
point  of  fact ;  and,  therefore,  it  is  not  altogether 
unfair  to  separate  them  in  argument,  when  the 
purpose  is  both  kind  and  pure.  It  is,  however, 
unwise,  however  well  meant.  It  defeats  itself, 
whenever  the  trembling  penitent  retires  to  weigh 
the  argument,  by  reading  the  passage.  Then  he 
sees,  that  the  quickening,  which  (he  was  told)  was 
a  proof  of  the  great  love  of  God,  includes  spiritu- 
al resurrection,  and  is  connected  with  some  spiritu- 
al exaltation,  which  he  does  not  even  understand 
the  meaning  of.  Thus,  he  finds  no  parallel  be- 
tween liimself  and  the  Ephesians,  except  that  he, 
like  them,  is  no  longer  "  dead  in  trespasses  and 
sins."  Unless,  therefore,  he  know  of  something 
in  the  gospel  itself  to  encourage  him,  or  recollect 
some  case  more  parallel  to  his  own,  he  is  then  in 
danger  of  being  more  discouraged  than  ever  by 
the  case  of  the  Ephesian  converts. 

Besides  ;  the  Holy  Spirit  is  generally  spoken  of 
as  a  comforter  ;  and,  therefore,  it  is  no  great  won- 
der if  those  who  are  very  uncomfortable  suspect 
very  much  that  the  Spirit  has  no  love  to  them. 
They  are  wrong — sadly  wrong,  in  thus  suspecting 
the  heart  or  tlie  hand  of  the  all-gracious  Spirit : 
for,  as  "  the  Spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus,"  he  must 
give  death-wounds  to  the  love  of  sin,  and  to  the 
pride  of  llie  heart,  and  to  the  power  of  self-righte- 
ousness. It  would  be  no  less  to  wound  them  but 
shghtly ;  and  no  wisdom  to  comfort  the  wounded 
spirit  by  the  number  or  the  depth  of  its  bleeding 
convictions.  It  is  not  the  begun  work  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  on  the  heart,  but  the  finished  work  of  Christ 
on  the  cross,  that  gives  real  comfort  then. 

Were  this  distinction  well  understood,  both  the 
comfort  and  the  illumination  of  penitents  would 
advance  faster  than  they  usually  do.  Their  per- 
sonal piety  also,  would  make  more  progress  :  for 
it,  too,  is  much  impeded  by  trying  to  graft  the  hope 
of  salvation  upon  the  depths  of  conviction.  Hap- 
pily, that  unwise  process  of  comforting  the  awaken- 
ed, defeats  itself  in  the  end.  It  is,  however,  very 
mjurious,  whilst  it  succeeds ;  for  the  moment  a 
penitent  takes  up  with  the  maxim,  that  his  con- 
victions are  sure  to  end  in  conversion,  there  is  an 
end  to  much  of  his  dUigence,  and  to  more  of  his 
watchfulness.  Little  do  they  know  what  they  are 
doing,  who,  in  their  sympathy  with  the  convicted, 
comfort  them  by  their  convictions.  This  is  stop- 
ping their  flight  from  the  wrath  to  come  !  Accord- 
ingly, it  is  not  very  uncommon  to  find  persons 
whose  experience  and  hope  amount  to  nothing 
beyond  the  smgle  fact,  that,  at  one  time  in  their 
hfe,  they  had  very  strong  convictions,  which  were 
very  like  the  work  of  the  Spirit.  Their  alarm 
and  melting  did  not,  however,  lead  to  any  conse- 
cration to  Christ  or  holiness  ;  but  merely  to  a  lazy 
hanging  on  upon  the  outward  means  of  grace, 
with  some  vague  hope  that  what  they  once  felt 
would  turn  out,  at  last;  to  be  a  work  of  grace,  as 
a  matter  of  course. 

This  is  a  fearful  delusion !     There  is  even  in- 
fatuation in  it.  No  man,  in  his  senses,  would  treat 


22 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT, 


bodilv  (lancror  in  this  way.  He  would  consider 
funiself  tnried  with,  if  not  insulted,  were  any  one 
to  sav  to  him,  "  Your  deep  sense  of  i)ain  and  dan- 
pi'r  is  a  very  good  siorn :  all  who  have  ever  reco- 
vereil  from  your  malady  felt  exactly  as  you  do ; 
and  therefore  your  pain  will,  no  doubt,  give  place 
to  ease  in  course  of  time."  Every  man  would 
interrupt  this  reasoning  by  asking,  what  cured 
thfee  who  recovered  !  Not  the  course  of  time, 
without  any  course  of  medical  treatment. 

Why  is  not  common  sense  applied  as  promptly 
to  detect  and  reject  the  fallacy  of  taking  for  grant- 
ed that  pain  of  conscience  will  be  followed  even- 
tually by  peace  of  conscience  1  Mental  paiji,  like 
bodily,  in  some  cases,  is  certainly  a  good  sign.  It 
is  a  proof  that  mnrlijiration  has  not  taken  place  ; 
hut  It  is  not  the  physician  nor  the  remedy. 
Whilst,  tJierefore,  1  would  readily  say  to  any 
tr«>iiibling  sinn<'r, — Your  distress,  and  fears,  and 
anxieties,  arc  proofs  that  God  ha-s  not  given  you 
up  to  a  reprobate  mijid,  and  proofs  that  the  Iloly 
Spirit  is  making  you  feel  your  need  of  a  Saviour ; 
ftiJl,  I  would  ahvays  add, — they  are  not  proofs  of 
your  election,  nor  pledges  of  your  final  safety.  All 
tlicir  value  depends  on  what  they  lead  to.  If  you 
ilo  not  follow  them  out  by  fleeing  from  the  wrath 
In  come,  they  may  prove  the  forerunners  of  that 
wrath.  If  you  rest  in  them,  instead  of  applying 
at  once  and  fully  to  Christ,  they  may  turn  out  to 
be  the  first  gnawings  of  "the  worm  that  dieth 
not ;"  the  first  .-sparks  of  the  "  unquenchable  fire !" 

You  see  now,  I  hope,  the  diiferonce  between 
liirht  and  illumination.  I  say  "difference,"  be- 
fiu-^e  there  is  more  than  a  distinction  between 
ihefn.  And  it  is  of  immense  importance  to  re- 
niomber  this  fact :  for  thousands,  by  forgetting  it, 
setMe  down  into  idle  waiting  for  more  grace,  under 
the  rasli  jjresumption  that  the  fear  of  perishing  is 
the  plrdge  of  eventual  salvation.  Thus,  instead 
of  flocinp  from  the  wratli  to  come  by  actually  and 
immcdiatfly  applying  to  Christ,  they  turn  their 
momentary  fear  of  that  wrath  into  a  reason  for 
fi'jpmg  tc)  escajK"  it. 

.Again  I  say,  I  attach  great  importance  to  con- 
victioHH  of  sin  and  danger :  but  still  I  must  repeat 
that  he  is  not  illuminated,  nor  much  enlightened, 
who  can  be  satisfied  with  having  felt  then  deeply 
for  a  time.  Indeed,  convictions  which  can  find 
cutTiricnt  relief  in  their  own  depth  or  sincerity, 
cannot  be  very  deep.  A  deep  fear  of  perishinn- 
would  compf'l  flight,  for  refuge,  to  the  hope  set  bc"- 
fore  118  in  the  gospel, 

I  low  Homo  now  light  upon  the  evil  and  danger 
of  cm  ran  bo  set  down  as  saving  grace,  I  can 
only  explain  by  the  deceitfulness  of  the  heart.  All 
the  Bib!.!  illasfrates  and  proves,  that  light  upon 
thi-  dubiort  is  intended  to  lead  to  Christ.  Accord- 
inply.  when  Paul  prayed  for  the  quickened  Kphe- 
Man^  that  the  eyes  of  their  "  understanding  might 
.-  enhghtoned."  his  obj(;ct  was,  that  they  might 
know  "  the  /,„,v  of  God's  calling."  Eph.  i.  18 
And  It  i«  not  safe  to  call  any  light  divine  iUumina- 
iH.n,  which  permits  us  to  stop  short  of  that  hope, 
or  to  li(ip«-  merely  because  we  have  feared.  We 
aro  not  lhor..ng!ily  m  earnest  about  our  souls,  if 
any  impresMon  made  upon  them  (whether  painful 
.T  |.l-.i.s,ng)  ,s  turned  int..  an  excuse  or  a  reason 
f..r  not  pressmg  to  an  issue  the  question  of  their 
falvation. 


You  are  now  prepared  to  consider  how  much 
love  the  Spirit  manifests  in  standing  "  afar  oflf"  as 
a  comforter,  from  aU  who  try  to  take  comfort  from 
his  work,  instead  of  seeking  for  it  in  the  finished 
work  of  Christ.  For,  were  all  fears,  and  all  con- 
victions, and  all  arrests  of  conscience,  really  his 
work,  he  will  not  witness  to  them,  as  being  "  the 
good  work"  of  grace  on  the  heart,  until  they  are 
employed  as  reasons  and  motives  for  trusting  the 
soul  to  the  great  work  of  Christ  on  the  cross.  He 
will  not  only  stand  aloof  from  comforting  those 
who  take  up  with  their  own  feelings  instead  of 
Christ ;  but  he  will  leave  these  feelings  to  subside, 
perhaps  to  vanish  away  so  completely,  that  the 
heart  shall  become  harder  than  it  was  before  its 
first  meltings. 

There  is  wonderful  love  in  this,  however  it  may 
seem  anger  at  the  time.  Tliere  is  indeed,  anger 
in  it  too ;  but  it  is  the  paternal  anger  which  chas- 
tens sharply,  because  paternal  love  is  strong.  For, 
were  we  allowed  to  comfort  ourselves  with  the 
hope  of  salvation  just  because  certain  feelings 
prevailed  in  us  at  one  time,  we  should  soon  under- 
rate Christ  as  much  as  Legalists  do,  and  neglect 
holiness  as  much  as  Antinomians  do. 

I  have  dwelt  much  upon  this  point,  too  long,  per- 
haps ;  but  I  have  done  so,  that  you  may  dread  and 
hate  the  bare  idea  of  resting  satisfied  with  any 
light,  which  does  not  bring  you  into  thorough  sub- 
jection to  the  cross  and  sceptre  of  Christ.  The 
light  is  not  divine,  which  is  not  leading  on  this 
subjection,  from  year  to  year.  "  And  if  the  light 
that  is  in  you  be  darkness,  how  great  is  that  dark- 
ness I" 

It  is  not  darkness,  however,  if  our  relief  from 
distressing  fears  of  God,  arises  from  his  lovely 
character  as  God  in  Christ,  delighting  in  mercy, 
and  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself.  Relief 
from  this  view  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of 
Jesus,  is  spiritual  illumination,  and  that,  too,  in  a 
very  high  and  emphatic  sense.  The  light  of  crea- 
tion is  not  more  directly  the  effect  of  the  power  of 
the  Spirit,  than  this  light  upon  the  character  of 
God  is  from  the  love  of  the  Spirit.  It  is  tptally 
different  from  the  mild  and  gentle  views  of  the 
Almighty,  which  fashion  and  philosophy  talk  of. 
The  believing  views  of  a  Christian  are  mild  and 
gentle ;  but  not  in  the  world's  sense  of  the 
words,  nor  for  the  world's  reasons.  The  le- 
niency and  love  which  worldly  men  ascribe  to  God, 
have  not  only  no  moral  influence  upon  their  hearts 
or  habits,  but  they  are  ascribed  to  him  just  to  hide 
the  danger  of  caring  nothing  about  him.  They 
are  not  conclusions  drawn  from  the  unspeakable 
gift  of  his  Son  as  a  Saviour,  nor  from  the  promise 
of  his  Spirit  as  a  comforter,  nor  from  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  grace  and  the  eternal  weight 
of  glory ;  but  from  the  base  wish  to  sin  without 
danger,  and  to  die  without  fear. 

The  light  of  a  Christian  is,  also,  quite  a  dilTer- 
ent  thing  even  from  that  of  the  formalist ;  who, 
m  speaking  of  the  divine  character,  uses  the  very 
words  of  Scripture.  The  expressions,  "  God  is 
love, '  «  God  delighteth  in  mercy,"  "  God  can  be 
just  in  justifying  him  that  believeth  in  Jesus,"  are 
read  and  repeated  by  thousands,  who  neither 
wonder  nor  adore.  All  this  is  mere  matter  of 
course  to  them.  It  wins  no  love,  and  leads  to  no 
prayer:  it  dlummates  neither  the  shadow  of  death. 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


23 


nor  the  pilgrimage  of  life  :  it  is  all  phrases  without 
meaning,  or  facts  without  interest.  Not  so  to  a 
Christian;  he  can  hardly  beheve,  for  joy,  that 
God  is  love  !  He  feels  so  tmworthy  of  any  love, 
and  is  so  ashamed  of  his  ingratitude,  that  he  is 
afraid  of  presuming,  even  when  most  willing  to  be 
an  entire  and  eternal  debtor  to  grace.  The  words, 
"God  is  love,"  are  infinitely  more  to  him  than 
words.  He  sees  in  them  the  face  of  God  smiling 
on  penitents ;  the  heart  of  God  yearning  over  his 
children  ;  the  wisdom  of  God  guiding,  the  power 
of  God  guarding,  and  the  grace  of  God  sanctify- 
ing, all  his  family.  He  hears  in  them  promises  of 
pardon,  and  pledges  of  acceptance,  and  assurances 
of  glory. 

This  is  illumination !  True  ;  it  is  nothing  but 
the  mind  of  the  Spirit  in  the  written  word ;  no- 
thing but  the  meaning  of  Scripture;  but  then, 
what  a  meaning  it  has,  compared  with  what  we 
used  to  find  m  it,  and  put  upon  it !  It  is  only  old 
truth ;  but  it  is  now  full  and  overflowing  with  new 
glory,  to  a  Christian. 

And,  who  is  to  blame,  because  all  who  read 
that  "  God  is  love,"  do  not  see  so  much  in  it  as  to 
be  melted  or  amazed  by  if!  Is  the  illuminating 
Spirit  "a  respecter  of  persons]"  No  ;  but  he  is 
a  respecter  of  principles,  and  a  respecter  of  laws 
and  order  :  and  if  any  will  pay  no  respect  to  the 
word  of  God,  nor  to  the  reproofs  of  providence,  nor 
to  the  dictates  of  conscience,  he  respects  the  au- 
thority of  divine  means  too  much  to  illuminate 
without  them.  It  is  as  "  the  Spirit  of  revelation," 
as  well  as  "of  wisdom,"  that  he  enlightens  the 
eyes  of  the  understanding  in  the  knowledge  of 
God  as  love.     Eph.  i.  17. 


No.  VII. 

THE   LOVE    OF   THE   SPIRIT    IN   INTERCESSION. 

It  is  just  as  true  that  the  Spirit  "  ever  Uveth" 
to  help  our  infirmities  by  suggesting  prayer,  as 
that  the  Saviour  ever  liveth  to  intercede  for  the 
prayerful.  Indeed,  the  respective  offices  of  Fa- 
ther, Son,  and  Spirit,  in  reference  to  prayer,  seem 
to  sustain  each  other.  The  Father's  readiness  to 
hear,  seems  to  be  as  much  the  Spirit's  reason  for 
helping  our  infirmities,  and  the  Son's  reason  for 
pleading  his  own  merits  on  our  behalf,  as  their 
joint  intercession  is  the  Father's  reason  for  an- 
swering prayer.  He  answers  it  because  the  Spi- 
rit suggests  it,  and  because  the  Son  presents  it ; 
and  they  promote  it  thus,  because  he  dehghts  to 
hear  it. 

This  seems  the  grand  moral  reason  why  the 
Holy  Spirit  does  so  much  to  help  our  infirmities, 
and  the  Saviour  so  much  to  insure  our  success  in 
prayer.  The  Spirit  knows  that  supplication  has 
only  to  be  "  according  to  the  will  of  God,"  in  or- 
der to  find  a  sure  place  in  the  golden  censer  of 
the  Son  ;  and  the  Son  knows  that  the  incense  of 
his  merits  can  sanctify  and  sustain  it  with  the  Fa- 
ther ;  and,  therefore,  both  ever  live  to  intercede 
for  us  ; — the  one  on  earth,  and  the  other  in  hea- 
ven ;  the  one  by  teaching  us  to  pray,  and  the  other 
by  praying  for  us. 

There  is  as  much  holy  wisdom  in  this  arrange- 
ment for  the  success  of  our  prayers,  as  there  is 
68  (16) 


paternal  kindness  in  it.  It  enables  us  to  know,  in 
some  measure,  what  degree  of  interest  the  Sa- 
viour is  likely  to  take  in  our  prayers.  It  prevents 
us  from  imagining  that  he  ever  liveth  to  intercede 
for  those,  who  never  pray  for  themselves.  Thus 
we  are  not  allowed,  for  a  moment,  to  suppose  that 
Christ  is  praying  for  us,  if  we  dislike  or  neglect 
prayer ;  nor  that  he  takes  much  interest  in  our 
prayers,  when  we  afe  heartless  or  heedless  in  de- 
votion. 

It  is  just  as  necessary,  in  order  to  secure  the  in- 
tercession of  Christ  On  our  side,  that  our  prayers 
be  "  according  to  the  will  of  God,"  as  that  inter- 
cession itself  is,  in  order  to  secure  their  accept- 
ance :  for  Christ  will  no  more  put  heartless  prayers 
into  his  censer,  than  God  will  answer  Christless 
prayers.  In  this  matter,  the  Son  looks  as  much 
to  the  way  in  which  we  treat  the  Spirit,  as  the 
Father  looks  to  the  way  in  wJiich  we  treat  the 
Son.  Whoever  will  not  pray  in  the  name  of  Je- 
sus, the  Father  will  not  answer  him  ;  and  who- 
ever will  not  yield  to  the  strivings  of  the  Spirit, 
the  Son  will  not  own  him. 

And  who  can  wonder  at  this  ?  Where  is  the 
common  sense,  or  the  common  honesty,  of  the 
man  who  objects  to  the  duty  of  "praying  in  the 
Holy  Ghost,"  or  "with  the  Spirit i"  The  help  of 
the  Spirit  is  just  as  open  and  free  to  him,  as  the 
merits  of  Jesus.  He  is  just  as  welcome  to  ask  for 
the  Spirit,  as  to  add  to  his  prayers  the  all-prevail- 
ing name  of  the  Saviour.  There  is  no  more  ob- 
stacle between  him  and  the  help  of  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit, than  there  is  between  him  and  his  Bible.  He 
may  as  soon  and  easily  obtain  help  in  prayer,  from 
the  Spirit  of  grace  and  supplication,  as  obtain 
from  his  Bible  the  rules  and  reasons  for  pleading 
only  the  merits  of  Christ. 

Nor  is  this  all.  That  man  is  not  to  be  found 
under  a  gospel  ministry,  or  after  reading  the  Scrip- 
tures, who  is  an  utter  stranger  to  the  strivings  of 
the  Holy  Spii-it.  Every  such  man  has  felt,  again 
and  again,  convictions  of  the  duty  of  prayer,  and 
impulses  to  pray.  Many,  alas,  resist  them ;  but 
all  who  hear  the  gospel  feel  them.  Yes ;  and  find 
it  so  difficult  to  get  rid  of  them,  that  their  inge- 
nuity is  put  upon  the  rack,  to  find  out  speculative 
excuses  for  not  praying.  None  have  had  such 
hard  work  in  stifling  their  convictions  of  the  duty 
and  necessity  of  prayer,  as  those  who  are  most 
dexterous  and  prompt,  m  excusing  their  neglect. 
Whenever  a  man  asks,  How  can  I  pray  in  the 
Spirit,  before  I  receive  the  Spirit  ? — he  has  had 
more  stirring  up  from  him,  than  he  liked  to  fee), 
or  cares  to  confess.  He  does  not  wish  for  any 
more  drawing  or  driving  to  the  mercy-seat,  than 
he  has  felt.  He  has  had  enough  of  both,  to  con- 
vince him,  that  praying  will  not  fit  in  with  his  pur- 
suits. He  has  been  near  enough  to  the  foot-stool 
of  the  throne  of  grace,  to  see  that  he  does  not  hke 
it  at  present:  but,  as  this  confession  does  not 
sound  well  in  words,  he  sets  himself  to  excuse 
himself.  And  if  his  pretences  of  wanting  time,  or 
abihty,  for  prayer,  do  not  silence  either  his  friends 
or  his  conscience,  he  tries  to  prove  that  the  work 
of  the  Spirit  is  too  great,  and  too  good,  and  too 
remarkable,  to  have  any  connection  with  what  he 
has  felt.  It  means  (forsooth!)  every  thing,  but 
"the  day  of  small  things,"  which  he  wants  to  de- 
spise, because  he  dislikes  it.     Accordingly,  he 


24 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


would  be  any  thing  but  glad,  to  have  that  Spirit,  | 
which,  he  says,  lie  has  not  pot,  and  cannot  com- 
mand. In  a  word ;  he  dreads  having  any  more  of  \ 
his  work,  at  present,  than  ho  has  had.  He  saw  \ 
lUj  face,  and  did  not  like  it ;  and,  therefore,  lie  ! 
wante  to  make  out  that  tlic  Holy  Spirit  has  done 
nothing  for  him! 

This  is  the  real  secret  of  all  the  pretences  put 
forward  by  the  delaying  and  undecided  hearers  of 
the  jTOf^pel.  The  Spirit  of  CJod  is  doing  more  for  , 
theui  than  they  wish  at  present ;  doing  so  much, 
tliat  the  only  way  in  which  they  can  get  to  the 
bu.^lle  or  the  follies  which  quench  divine  influence, 
is,  to  deny  the  divinity  of  what  they  feel  at  solemn  j 
moments.  Not  a  man  of  them  has  the  shadow  of 
a  doubt  upon  his  mind,  as  to  whether  he  could 
pray— when  he  feels  thus.  He  sees  clearly  that, 
were  he  to  i/ield  then,  he  both  could  and  would 
pray  enough  to  commit  liimself  beyond  all  retract- 
ing or  retreating. 

If  it  be  thus  base  and  criminal  to  "resist  the 
Holy  Ghost,"  even  whilst  he  is  only  convincing  of 
the  duty  of  prayer  ;  how  much  more,  when  he  has 
convinced  us  of  the  advantages  and  enjoyments, 
which  may  be  derived  from  it,  and  found  in  it? 
And  this  conviction  he  has  established  in  the  in- 
most soul  of  all  who  have  yielded  to  his  first  striv- 
ingB.  Whoever  has  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn 
to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  has  there  given  way 
to  his  feelings,  untd  his  heart  was  "poured  olit" 
before  (iod,  lias  found  by  experience,  that  it  is 
pood  to  draw  nigh  unto  God.  He  may  not  have 
found,  at  first,  all  the  enjoyment,  nor  all  the  relief, 
whicli  he  h:is  heard  others  speak  of:  but  he  did 
rise  from  his  knees  a  happier  man  than  he  knelt 
down.  I  le  did  wonder,  after  giving  way  to  strong 
cries  and  tears,  that  even  he  should  have  disliked 
to  1)6  alone  with  (Jod  in  f)rayer.  He  did  resolve, 
that  he  would  soon  return  to  the  mercy-seat. 

The  manife.Mtaiion  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit, 
which  occurs  at  this  point  in  conversion,  is  pecu- 
liarly int»-resting.  He  may  not  exactly  comfort 
nor  cheer  tJie  t*ouI,  when  it  first  yields  to  him  as 
"  the  Spirit  of  Hui)phcation  ;"  but  he  either  soothes 
if  into  Homething  like  calmness,  or  excites  it  to  a 
fer\pncy  of  hof)'  desire,  which  seems  the  forerun- 
ner of  hope.  If  he  do  not  reveal  at  once  to  the 
soul.  Its  warrant  and  welcome  to  believe  on  Christ 
for  itfl  own  salvation,  he  does  siiow  enough  of  the 
HufJiciency  of  Christ,  to  satisfy  us  that  "he  can 
Have  to  the  uttermost,  them  tfiat  come  unto  God 
by  hiiii."  Thus  we  are  made  to  see  and  feel,  that 
prayer  is  not  a  vain  thing;  that  its  eflicacy  is 
worth  trying;  and  that  the  very  act  of  trying  it, 
bringu  come  composure. 

Thus  a  lesxon  is  taught  by  the  first  influence  of 
ranifht  nr-iyer,  which  is  never  forgotten.  The 
.Spirit  jodires  niirl  neals  a  sense  of  the  usefulness 
of  drawintr  mikIi  to  God,  which  can  never  be  lost. 
It  may  be  v.eakencd ;  but  it  cannot  be  erased.— 
Airordiiigly,  the  inowt  liearlless,  yea,  the  most 
hopele»«  backslider,  cannot  forget  nor  despise 
"the  days  of  old,"  when  the  candle  of  the  Lord 
first  shone  in  his  closet.  He  may  not  dare  to 
pray_he  may  dread  nothing  so  much  as  beincr 
alone  w.ih  God  in  prayer  ;— but  he  has  no  doubt 
ol  the  iiappiness  of  those  who  are  prayerful.  He 
envies  their  stale.  He  knows  that  "there  is  no 
liappmeaa  for  hun.  until  he  resume  the  devotional 


habits  of  his  first  love,  and  become  a  closet  Chris- 
tian again.  . 

These  sad  effects  of  quenching  "the  Spirit  of 
supplication,"  will  enable  us  to  understand  clear- 
ly,  how  yielding  to  his  intercession  with  us,  se- 
cures the  intercession  of  Christ  for  us.  Christ 
will  put  no  prayer  into  his  censer  of  much  incense, 
which  has  not  been  put  into  oui-  hearts  by  the 
Holy  Spirit.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  just  as 
true,  that  Christ  will  not  exclude  from  his  golden 
censer,  any  prayer  which  the  Spirit  excites.  It 
may  not  be  answered  at  once ;  but  it  is  sure  to  be 
presented,  accepted,  and  remembered.  It  is  as 
truly  filed  at  the  throne  of  God,  as  it  was  felt  by 
the  heart  or  breathed  by  the  hps. 

Wliat  an  encouragement  this  is  to  pray  "in 
the  Spirit,"  or  "with  the  Holy  Ghost!"  I  do  not 
mean,  of  course,  that  we  should  pray  only  when 
we  are  powerfully  urged  to  the  duty,  by  a  deep 
sense  of  want,  or  weakness,  or  danger.  No. 
There  may  be  quite  as  much  of  both  the  love  and 
the  grace  of  the  Spu-it,  in  enabling  us  to  keep  up 
regular  habits  of  devotion  from  day  to  day,  as  in 
those  powerful  impressions,  which  seem  audible 
calls  to  extraordinary  prayer.  Indeed,  wherever 
there  is  no  habit  of  morning  and  evening  prayer, 
there  will  seldom  be  any  compUance  with  the  calls 
or  drawings  of  the  Spirit  to  special  prayer  :  for  if 
the  standing  law  be  disregarded,  it  is  not  likely 
that  the  occasional  impulse  will  be  obeyed.  Such 
impulses,  however,  ought  not  to  be  resisted.  There 
is,  depend  on  it,  a  strong  "  needs  be,"  whenever 
the  Holy  Spirit  bears  hi  upon  the  mind,  the  con- 
viction that  there  must  be  more  prayer  than  usual, 
or  more  fervency  than  there  has  been  !  He  fore- 
sees some  imminent  or  real  danger  to  our  princi- 
ples, our  character,  or  our  peace,  whenever  he 
stirs  us  up  to  "  cry  mightily  unto  God.''  This  is 
the  signal  he  gives,  to  forewarn  us  of  approaching 
trials  of  some  kind.  Yes ;  whenever  his  voice  in 
the  heart  says,  like  the  Saviour's  in  Gethsemane, 
"  Watch  and  pray,  lest  ye  enter  into  temptation," 
something  is  about  to  happen,  which  we  are  not 
prepared  for,  by  our  ordinary  devotion.  Either 
trouble  is  coming,  which  we  are  not  fit  to  sustain 
in  our  present  strength ;  or  temptations  are  com- 
ing, which  we  are  not  able  to  overcome  by  it: 
either  our  spiritual  or  our  temporal  affairs  are  on 
the  eve  of  some  turn,  which  will  involve  serious 
consequences,  perhaps  for  life ;  or  Satan  has  taken 
measures  to  "  sift"  us  "  as  wheat :"  and,  therefore, 
our  faith  must  fail,  unless  the  Intercessor  in  hea- 
ven pray  for  us !  All  this  the  Spirit  foresees,  and 
thus  forewarns  us  of;  and,  therefore,  he  intercedes 
with  us,  to  watch  and  pray  for  ourselves,  that 
Christ  may  intercede  for  us.  The  sufficiency  of 
the  Saviour's  grace,  or  strength,  for  sustaining  us 
in  the  hour  of  trial,  is,  remember,  "  made  perfect 
in  weakness ;"  and  it  is  by  pressing  upon  us  the  im- 
mediate necessity  of  praying  more  earnestly,  that 
the  Spirit  reminds  us  of  our  weakness,  and  ap- 
prizes us  of  our  danger. 

Christian,  let  no  clamor  against  impulses  in  ge- 
neral, divert  you  from  obeying  the  Holy  Ghost, 
when  lie  is  impelling  you  to  abound  in  prayer,  or 
to  improve  your  devotional  spirit.  You  are  in  no 
danger  of  praying  too  often  or  too  lono'  in  your 
closet.  Fanaticism  does  not  send  her  dupes,  nor 
1 1  ancy  her  votaries,  into  the  closet  to  wrestle  with 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


God  for  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need.  Prayer 
against  falling  or  fainting,  is  not  one  of  the  dic- 
tates of  a  spirit  of  illusion,  or  of  delusion.  There 
is  real  need  for  more  than  usual  prayer,  whenever 
your  sense  of  need  is  strong.  There  is  a  critical 
nick  of  thne  at  hand,  whenever  your  heart  tells 
you,  that  you  are  too  far  off  from  the  mercy-seat 
to  be  safe  or  steady. 

I  am  not  foreboding  evil,  if  by  that  you  mean 
only  afflictions  or  reverses.  I  am  thinking  of  far 
heavier  calamities  than  a  sick-bed,  or  than  sink- 
ing in  the  world :  these  are,  indeed,  trying ;  but 
they  are  not  ominous,  nor  so  perilous  as  they 
seem.  Swimming  in  the  world,  is  far  more  ha- 
zardous to  a  Christian  than  sinking  in  it.  He 
knows  how  far  he  can  sink,  and  yet  be  safe  :  but 
he  does  not  know  how  far  he  can  rise  without 
losing  his  piety.  He  knows  the  worst  that 
"  bread  and  water"  can  do  to  his  soul ;  but  he 
cannot  calculate  the  effect  of  luxury,  nor  of  money, 
nor  of  ease,  upon  his  present  character  or  upon 
his  eternal  state. 

This,  however,  is  not  exactly  what  I  mean. 
Like  myself,  you  may  be  in  no  great  danger  from 
abundance.  There  may,  however,  be  a  worldly 
spirit,  without  wealth  ;  and  a  slothful  spirit  in  re- 
ligion, without  the  snare  of  leisure  to  induce  it ; 
and  a  backsUding  spirit,  without  any  great  falling 
off  of  public  character.  Here  is  our  danger ; 
and  it  is  real.  For  how  many  sink  and  settle  into 
a  heartless  profession,  by  which  they  lose  all  en- 
joyment of  religion,  and  are  lost  to  all  usefulness ! 
Now,  it  is  to  prevent  this  sad  issue  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  so  prompt  and  pressing,  whenever  the 
power  of  godliness  begins  to  decline  in  the  heart. 
— Then  he  gives  warning  at  once ;  and,  for  a 
time,  haunts  the  soul  with  the  interceding  cry, 
"  Como,  my  people,  enter  your  chamber ;  watch 
and  pray,  lest  ye  fall  into  temptation." 

O,  what  falls,  and  shipwrecks,  and  apostacies, 
and  backslidings,  might  have  been  prevented,  had 
all  who  were  thus  challenged  and  charged,  when 
they  began  to  decline  from  their  "first  love," 
been  obedient  to  the  heavenly  vision  !  liet  their 
folly  and  fate  teach  us  wisdom.  It  is  infinitely 
easier  to  obey  these  timely  promptings  of  the 
Spirit,  than  to  extricate  ourselves  from  the  en- 
tanglements of  backsliding.  An  hour  of  special 
prayer  then,  may  save  to  us,  what  the  disobedient 
have  not  been  able  to  recover  for  years,  the  pre- 
sence of  God,  and  the  hope  of  acceptance.  It 
will  also  prevent  us  from  being,  as  they  all  are 
eventually,  "  rebuked  in  wrath,  and  chastened  in 
hot  displeasure,"  by  the  strokes  of  retribution. 

A  prudent  Christian  cannot  but  admire  and 
adore  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  in  interfering  thus 
promptly  and  urgently,  to  check  the  first  symp- 
toms of  declension,  by  powerful  incentives  to 
more  prayerfulness.  He  will  also  trace  his  love 
in  drawing  out  prayer  to  all  the  extent  of  the  pro- 
mised salvation.  For,  how  true  it  is,  even  in  re- 
gard to  mercy  and  grace,  that  "  we  know  not 
what  we  should  pray  for  as  wo  ought."  Ptom. 
viii.  26.  It  is  said,  I  am  aware,  that  our  chief 
difficulty  is,  to  know  what  temporal  things  we 
should  pray  for.  And  it  is,  no  doubt,  more  diffi- 
cult to  choose  aright  amongst  temporal  blessings, 
than  amongst  spiritual,  in  one  sense ;  for  we  are 
very  bad  judges  of  what  is  best  for  us  in  this  life. 


and  very  prone  to  desire  most  what  is  most  with- 
held from  us.  In  regard  to  temporal  things,  how- 
ever, we  never  desire  tooUttle,  nor  feel  indifferent 
to  what  is  good ;  whereas,  there  are  many  spi- 
ritual blessings  which  we  could  but  too  easily 
overlook  entirely,  or  dispense  with  until  the  even- 
ing of  hfe,  did  not  the  Holy  Spirit  force  them 
upon  our  notice,  and  draw  them  into  our  prayers. 
For,  how  few  would  seek  humility,  were  not  pride 
dangerous ;  or  spirituality  of  mind,  were  it  not 
death  to  be  carnally  minded  ;  or  communion  with 
God,  were  it  not  a  mark  of  union  to  Christ ;  or 
the  witness  of  the  Spirit,  were  it  not  the  proof  of 
the  work  of  the  Spirit ;  or  the  joy  of  salvation, 
were  it  not  an  earnest  of  eternal  life"?  Indeed,  I 
dread  to  look  at  the  long  list  of  promised  bless- 
ings, which  would  hardly  be  prayed  for,  or  thought 
of  at  all,  were  they  not  brought  to  our  remem- 
brance, and  built  into  our  prayers,  by  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Alas,  we  are  so  inchned  to  be  contented 
with,  if  not  to  prefer,  a  mere  escape  from  the 
wrath  to  come  at  last,  that,  if  left  to  our  own 
choice,  we  should  be  in  very  great  danger  of  not 
praying  at  all  for  the  divine  image  or  presence  ; 
for  the  seal  of  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit ;  for  like- 
ness to  Christ,  or  for  a  sense  of  his  constraining 
love.  We  could  make  less  serve  and  satisfy  us, 
were  we  left  to  our  own  choice,  or  to  take  our  own 
way. 

Nor  is  this  all.  We  have  but  very  inadequate 
views,  at  first,  even  of  the  extent  of  our  need  of 
mercy  to  pardon ;  and  much  more  inadequate 
views  of  our  need  of  grace  to  help.  We  mean, 
indeed,  much  of  both,  when  we  begin  to  pray  in 
good  earnest :  but  still,  much  less  than  we  really 
need,  even  if  we  feel  our  need  of  more  than  we 
can  venture  to  hope  for  at  the  time. 

I  do  not  know  that  I  could  have  beheved  this, 
in  reference  to  my  need  of  pardoning  mercy,  had 
the  fact  been  told  me  when,  like  the  publican,  I 
began  to  cry,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,' 
without  daring  to  lift  up  my  eyes.  Then,  the  fear 
of  not  seeing  God  through  eternity,  and  the  im- 
possibility of  saving  myself  from  the  curse  of  the 
broken  law,  made  mercy  unspeakably  dear  to  me. 
But,  now  that  I  hope  to  see  God  as  he  is,  and 
dwell  for  ever  in  his  immediate  presence,  I  see 
my  need  of  a  kind  and  degree  of  pardoning  mer- 
cy, which  I  had  no  idea  of  at  first.  Then,  mercy 
enough  to  keep  me  out  of  hell  was  aU  I  thought 
of:  but  now  I  see  the  need  of  such  pardon, — of 
such  reconciliation, — and  of  such  acceptance,  as 
shall  enable  me  to  feel  at  home  with  God,  in  hea- 
ven, to  all  eternity  !  This  is  not,  perhaps,  another 
kind  of  mercy  than  that  I  began  to  seek ;  but  it  is 
quite  a  different  degree  of  it,  and  leads  to  as 
much  prayer.  For,  who  can  realize,  or  imagine, 
and  not  pray  fervently  for  it,  a  pardon  so  gracious 
and  complete — that  the  soul  shall  be  perfectly  at 
home  for  ever  in  heaven,  even  when  it  knows  as  it 
is  known,  and  when  it  beholds  God  in  all  the  ma- 
jesty of  his  authority,  in  all  tlie  glory  of  his  holi- 
ness, and  in  all  the  independence  of  his  blessed- 
ness"! The  bare  idea  of  going  up  to  the  eternal 
throne,  even  once,  without  terror  or  shame,  is  al- 
most inconceivable  :  for  how  much  is  required  in 
order  to  one  welcome  ?  But  an  eternity  of  wel- 
come, composure,  and  joy,  at  that  throne  ! — What 
is  the  mercy  which  bestows  and  prepares  for  that  ? 


26 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


We  should  not  appreciate  it,  nor  think  of  it,  did 
not  the  Spirit  help  our  infirmities,  and  teach  us  to 
pray  for  it. 

His  love  is  not  less  conspicuous,  in  leading  us 
to  pray  for  all  the  grace  we  need  to  help,  in  this 
world.  Now  we  have  already  found  out  that  to 
be  more  than  we  suspected  at  first.  And  yet, 
the  conviction,  "I  shall  need  much  grace  to  keep 
me,"  is,  in  general,  a  very  deep  one  in  the  mind 
of  a  penitent,  even  from  the  first.  Indeed,  so 
deep,  that  many  yield  to  tlie  temptation  of  keep- 
ing back  from  the  sacramental  fellowship  of  the 
church,  lest  they  should  fall  away,  or  disgrace  it. 
This  is  a  sad  mistake  :  for  that  fellowship  is  one 
of  tlie  most  eifectual  of  all  the  appointed  means, 
to  prevent  falling.  It  is  not,  however,  sufficient 
of  itself.  Accordingly,  those  who  have  been  long- 
est under  sacramental  bonds,  know  well,  yea,  best, 
that  they  have  acquired  far  more  grace  than  tJiey 
ever  thouglit  of  needing,  when  they  gave  them- 
selves to  the  Lord  and  to  the  church.  There 
have  been  times  of  trial  and  temptation,  when  we 
have  been  ready  to  give  up  all  hope,  and  even  to 
tlirovv  up  all  religion.  There  have  been  moods  of 
temper  or  of  spirit,  when  nothing  in  religion  seem- 
ed sure,  sacred,  or  interesting.  There  have  been 
conjunctions  of  the  world  and  the  heart,  by  ad- 
versity or  prosperity,  which  almost  produced 
Atheism,  or  the  wish  tliat  there  were  neither  a 
God  nor  an  hereafter.  Oh,  had  not  the  Spirit 
helped  us  then,  wlien  our  infirmities  were  becom- 
ing infatuations,  where,  what,  should  we  have 
been  now  1  Had  he  not  brought  us  up  from  "the 
fearful  pit  and  miry  clay"  of  such  temptations, 
and  put  a  new  song  into  our  lips  by  putting  a  new 
prayer  into  om-  hearts,  we  should  have  sunk 
where  we  fell,  and  risen  no  more. 

But  whilst  such  restorations  and  deliverances 
should  be  had  in  everlasting  remembrance,  we 
must  not  forget  how  much  love  there  is  in  the 
help  we  receive  from  the  Spirit,  which  enables  us 
to  keep  on  praying,  in  spite  of  all  our  hinderances 
and  discouragements.  I  do  not  tliink  lightly  of 
the  injury  which  sudden  and  peculiar  temptations 
do  to  piety.  I  wonder  and  adore,  to  see  how  the 
Spirit  repairs  and  counteracts  these  injuries  :  not 
less,  however,  to  see  how  he  prevents  the  ordinary 
tear  and  wear  of  tlie  world,  and  the  natural  ten- 
dencies of  the  heart,  and  the  force  of  prayerless 
example,  from  wasting  away  both  the  love  and 
habit  of  devotion.  Keeping  alive  the  fire  of  hea- 
ven upon  the  altar  of  the  temple,  was  nothing  to 
this  prescvvalion  of  the  spirit  of  prayer !  That 
fire  had  many  a  shelter ;  but  this  is  like  a  spark 
in  the  ocean,  exposed  to  the  waters  beneath  and 
to  the  winds  above. 

One  way  in  which  he  preserves  the  love  and 
habit  of  prayer,  is,  by  the  remarkable  help  he 
gives  at  times  of  peculiar  need.  It  is  no  uncom- 
mon thing  for  Christians  to  go  to  their  closet  on 
one  errand,  and  yet  completely  to  forget  it,  when 
they  catch  the  spirit  of  prayer,  or  obtain  commu- 
nion with  God.  Perhaps  the  original  errand  is,  to 
plead  for  the  removal  of  some  Jieavy  cross,  or  for 
the  continuance  of  some  temporal  blessing :  when, 
lo,  in  trying  to  bring  this  desire  into  harmony  with 
the  divine  will, — the  thoughts  rise  amongst  the  di- 
vine perfections  which  call  for  submission  ;  and, 
there,  get  amongst  the  perfections  which  win  love 


and  awaken  gratitude.  The  worth  of  the  soul 
shines  out  in  this  light.  The  claims  of  eternity 
begin  to  open.  Then,  the  favor  of  God  is  so  felt 
to  be  life,  and  his  loving-ldndness  better  than  life, 
that  nothing  else  is  thought  of !  Time,  earth, 
cares,  and  comforts,  are  all  forgotten  in  the  ab- 
sorbing glory  of  salvation,  and  in  the  beaming 
smiles  of  the  divine  presence.  The  soul  finds  in 
communion  with  God  and  the  Lamb,  perfect  peace 
and  joy  unspeakable  ;  and  thus  loses  time,  in  eter- 
nity ;  earth,  in  heaven  ;  the  body,  in  the  soul ! 
And  the  less  is  really  lost  in  the  greater.  We 
come  forth,  after  such  "  times  of  refreshing  from 
the  presence  of  the  Lord,"  willing  to  do  or  suffer 
any  thing,  and  prepared  to  resign  all  our  wishes 
to  the  divine  will. 

Christian  I  let  them  doubt  the  actual  help  of  the 
Spirit,  who  pray  only  by  fits  and  starts ;  and  let 
them  overlook  his  love  in  helping  infirmities,  who 
are  satisfied  with  repeating  forms  of  sound  and 
serious  words :  we  know,  that  he  has  enabled  us 
to  pray  without  book  at  times,  as  well  as  with  it ; 
and  drawn  us  beyond  all  that  books  contamcd, 
and  all  that  we  ourselves  intended.  Neither 
books,  nor  memory,  could  have  led  us  into  some 
of  the  outpourings  of  the  heart,  which  we  have 
been  occasionally  drawn  into  by  the  Spirit,  when 
we  have  let  him  have  "free  course"  in  his  sug- 
gestions, and  have  followed  them  up  honestly. 


No.  VIII. 

THE   LOVE   OF   THE    SPIRIT   IN    RESTORATION. 

It  is  worthy  of  special  notice  and  remembrance, 
that  whatever  was  the  kind  or  the  degree  of  spi- 
ritual declension  in  any  of  the  seven  churches  of 
Asia;  and  however  the  particular  counsels  and 
warnings  addressed  to  them  varied  according  to 
the  depth  of  their  fall ;  still,  the  great  general  com- 
mand to  each  of  them  was  one  and  the  same, — 
"  Hear  what  the  Spirit  saith."  This  is  neither 
accident  nor  mere  form.  Attention  to  the  Spirit 
was  the  only  cure  for  any  of  the  defections. — 
Without  hearing  him,  the  Ephesians  could  no 
more  have  regained  tiieir  "first  love,"  than  the 
Laodiceans  could  have  thrown  off  their  lukewarm- 
ness.  Witiiout  help  from  the  Spirit,  the  "  little 
strength"  of  the  church  in  Philadelphia  was  as 
unequal  to  overcome  "  in  the  hour  of  temptation," 
as  the  Sardians'  "name  to  live,"  was  unfit  to 
strengthen  the  things  which  were  ready  to  die. 
Pergamos  would  have  continued  to  listen  to  the 
false  doctrine  of  Balaam  and  the  Nicnlaitanes,  and 
Thyatira  to  the  licentious  doctrine  of  Jezebel,  had 
not  both  set  themselves  to  listen  again  to  "  what 
the  Spirit  saith  unto  the  churches."  According- 
ly, all  the  return  of  any  of  these  churches  to  their 
first  love  and  their  first  works,  was  in  consequence 
of  renewed  attention  to  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  only 
lasted  whilst  he  was  listened  to  in  his  oracles. 

It  is  also  worthy  of  special  notice  that  the  Epis- 
tles to  the  Asiatic  churches,  although  dictated  to 
John  by  the  lips  of  the  Saviour  himself,  and  all 
opened  with  proclamations  of  his  own  supremacy 
as  the  head  of  the  church,  are  yet  invariably  closed 
by  the  authority  of  the  Spirit,  as  the  author  of  re- 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


27 


velation,  to  enforce  them.  The  Saviour  does  not 
conclude  by  saying,  "Hear  what  I  say  ;  but  thus, 
"He  that  hath  an  ear,  let  liim  hear  what  tlie  Spi- 
rit saith  unto  the  churches."  Thus  whilst  he 
maintains  his  own  office  and  honor  as  king  and 
priest  of  the  church,  and  condescends  to  act  as 
her  prophet  too,  he  asserts  and  sustains  the  office 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  the  Spirit  of  inspiration. — 
The  Saviour  makes  himself  heard,  that  we  may 
recognise  and  revere  the  Comforter,  in  the  lively 
oracles.  The  reason  of  this  may  not  be  obvious 
at  a  glance  ;  but  the  wisdom  of  it  is  profound,  and 
its  design  gracious.  The  prommence  and  import- 
ance thus  given  to  the  work  which  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit carries  on  in  the  soul,  by  the  truth,  like  that 
given  to  the  work  of  Christ/or  the  soul,  is,  for  the 
purpose  of  shutting  us  up  to  an  entire  dependance 
upon  each.  Were  less  said,  than  that  Christ  is 
■"  all  in  all"  in  the  work  of  redemption,  we  should 
divide  our  faith  between  his  merits  and  our  own 
morals,  or  seek  to  be  justified  partly  by  law  and 
partly  by  grace ;  and  thus  never  come  to  the  point, 
in  penitence  nor  in  humility.  For,  it  is  by  seeuig 
that  we  must  look  to  nothing  but  the  blood  of 
Christ,  for  pardon  and  acceptance, — and  that  there 
ia  nothing  else  to  look  to  for  justification, — that 
we  come  to  set  ourselves  in  good  earnest,  to  fall 
fuUy  in  with  God's  plan  of  saving.  Finding  that 
half-measures  will  not  do  ;  or,  that  God  will  have 
nothing  to  say  to  us,  until  we  have  nothing  to  say 
to  him,  but  just  that  Christ  died  for  the  ungodly  ; 
we  are  glad  to  go  any  length  in  abandoning  all 
legal  claims  and  rehances  ;  and  become  intent 
upon  glorying  only  in  the  cross  of  Christ.  We 
retreat  from  one  thing  after  another,  until  we  give 
up  every  thing  but  the  cross,  and  say  of  it  alone, 
"  Behold,  O  God,  our  shield."  Indeed,  we  get  no 
quiet  rest,  until  we  cease  to  argue  or  plead,  by 
any  thing  we  have  become,  or  intend  to  be  ;  and 
begin  to  confine  ourselves  to  the  one  plea,  "  Look 
upon  us  in  the  face  of  thine  anointed." 

This  is  that  reception  of  Christ,  concerning 
which  it  is  said,  "  as  many  as  received  him,  to 
them  gave  he  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God." 
John  i.  12.  Now,  just  such  a  place  in  our  atten- 
tion and  confidence,  should  he  given  to  the  Holy 
Spirit,  in  reference  to  his  work.  We  ought  as 
much  to  look  to  him  for  grace  to  help,  as  to  the 
Saviour  for  pardon  and  acceptance.  Whenever 
we  look  into  the  Scriptures  for  counsel  or  conso- 
lation, we  ought  to  look  up  to  the  Spirit  for  a 
heart  to  appropriate  and  improve  them  ariglit. 
Whatever  means  of  grace  we  use  for  safety  or 
edification,  we  should  never  forget  that  their  suc- 
cess depends  upon  the  blessing  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
In  a  word,  we  ought  to  be  as  much  afi-aid  of  over- 
looking or  underrating  the  Comforter,  as  of  not 
applying  to  the  Mediator ;  and  as  watchful  against 
leaning  to  our  own  understanding,  or  trusting  our 
own  hearts,  as  against  self-righteousness  or  le- 
gality :  for  the  work  of  the  Spirit  is  as  much  in- 
tended to  shut  us  out  from  self-dependance,  in  the 
matter  of  sanctification,  as  the  work  of  Christ  is 
to  shut  us  out  from  self-complacency,  in  the  mat- 
ter of  justification. 

To  concede  all  this  as  a  point  in  theology,  or  to 
agree  to  it  as  a  maxim  in  religion,  is,  however,  not 
enough.  It  must  just  be  apphed  and  acted  upon, 
as  you  do  in  the  case  of  making  Christ  "all 


and  all"  in  your  salvation.    Now  in  doing  that, 

you  search  out  your  legal  tendencies  ;  you  set 
them  down  as  refuges  of  lies ;  you  not  only  pray 
that  God  would  sweep  them  away,  but  also  watch 
lest  they  should  be  swept  back  again  by  Satan. 
You  are  not  easy  when  you  find  yourself  looking 
less  to  Christ.  You  even  become  afraid  of  your 
sincerity  in  religion,  when  you  are  not  conscious 
of  a  single-hearted  and  exclusive  reliance  upon 
his  merits. 

Well;  just  such  a  jealousy  and  watchfulness 
should  we  exercise  over  our  own  hearts,  in  refer- 
ence to  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Wo  must 
no  more  allow  ourselves  to  forget  him  when  we 
open  the  Bible,  or  enter  the  sanctuary,  or  engage 
in  prayer,  than  we  overiook  the  Father  or  the  Soli. 
We  ought  to  be  as  much  afraid  of  grieving  iiim, 
as  of  dishonoring  them  :  for  as  we  profess  to  as- 
cribe equal  and  everlasting  glory  to  Father,  Son, 
and  Spirit,  we  are  bound  to  pay  them  equal  atten- 
tion.  I  mean,  that  the  attention  given  to  the 
Spirit,  should  not  be  left  to  accident,  nor  paid  in 
formal  compliment.  And  it  need  not  be  so.  It 
is  just  as  easy,  because  as  much  our  duty,  to  give 
him  his  proper  place  in  our  confidence,  as  to  give 
the  Father  and  tlie  Son  their  place.  We  took 
some  pains  to  ascertain,  and  to  fix  in  our  minds, 
the  precise  reference  which  our  prayers,  our  hopes, 
and  our  feelings  should  have  to  God  and  the 
Lamb.  We  did  not  leave  that  to  chance  nor  to 
impulse,  when  we  became  anxious  that  our  fel- 
lowship should  truly  be  with  the  Father,  and  his 
Son  Jesus  Christ :  and  the  fellowsliip  or  "  coni- 
mmiion  of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  cannot  be  kept  up  by 
paying  him  empty  compliments,  nor  by  yielding 
vague  honors  to  him. 

I  dare  not  ask  yet,  whether  you  feel  deeply  in- 
terested in  these  huits.  They  are  both  too  few 
and  feeble  to  command  absorbing  attention,  or  to 
excite  much  expectation.  Perhaps  they  do  not 
even  suggest  to  you  their  precise  design  which  is, 
to  explain  how  backsliding  and  declension  chiefly 
arise.  Now  that  it  is  not  fully  explained  by  say- 
ing, that  some  sin  of  omission  or  of  commission, 
grteved  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  then  the  power  of 
godliness  declined  rapidly.  This  is.  indeed,  (piito 
true  ;  but  it  is  not  all  the  truth.  The  sin,  wlie- 
ther  of  omission  or  of  commission,  or  of  both, 
which  led  to  this  sad  result,  was,  itself,  preceded 
and  occasioned  by  inattention  to  the  Holy  Spirit, 
or  by  expecting  help  from  his  grace  without  iiear- 
ing  his  word.  For  "  what  the  spirit  sai/h  to  the 
ch°urches,"  is  as  much  his  moans  of  sanctifying 
and  comforting,  as  what  the  Saviour  hath  done 
and  suffered  for  the  church  is  (Jod's  reai=on  for 
pardonintr.  Now  we  expect  no  pardon,  apart  from 
the  cross?  We  are  quite  sure  that  wc  siiould  re- 
ceive  none,  were  wc  to  look  away  from  the  cross, 
or  even  to  look  to  it  but  partly.  Well ;  it  is  just 
as  true,  that  we  are  not  warranted  to  expect  grace 
to  help,  apart  from  an  impartial  use  of  the  word 
of  trace.  The  Spirit  sanctifies,  and  susf  atn.s,  and 
consoles,  "  bv  the  truth,"  just  as  God  acquits  and 
accepts  by  'the  atonement.  But  how  f.nv  so 
notice  this  fact,  as  to  follow  up  thoir  full  sub- 
mission  to  the  cross,  by  a  full  submission  fo 
"  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  word  of 

Here  is  the  real  secret  of  backsliding,  and  of 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT, 


that  loss  of  "  first  love,"  which  is  so  common. 
We  content  ourselves  with  selecting,  here  and 
there  from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  a  few  of  the  most 
remarkable  directions  for  walking  in  the  Spirit ; 
and  a  few  of  the  most  solemn  warnings  against 
grieving  the  Spirit ;  and,  having  adopted  these 
general  maxims,  together  with  certain  strong 
phrases  about  the  power  of  the  Spirit,  we  take  for 
granted  that  we  are  as  orthodox  and  honest  in  re- 
ference to  him,  as  we  took  pains  to  be  in  regard 
to  the  Saviour. 

Now  I  do  not  mean  to  insinuate,  that  we  are 
either  wiUingly  or  wittingly  dishonest,  in  thus 
satisfying  ourselves  with  a  general  recognition  of 
the  claims  and  commands  of  the  Spirit.  No  !  We 
honestly  suppose,  that  this  will  be  enough  to  keep 
up  and  carry  on  our  piety.  It  is  too,  as  much  as 
the  generality  possess,  and  more  than  some  pro- 
fess. What  then  1  It  has  not  always  been 
enough  to  keep  up  the  power  of  godhness  in  our 
hearts,  nor  to  prevent  backshding  in  our  hearts. 
Nay ;  it  has  not  been  enough  to  secure  equal  at- 
tention even  to  "  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit."  For, 
after  all  our  professed  subjection  to  him,  are  there 
not  some  of  them  we  have  never  yet  set  ourselves 
to  cultivate  or  consider?  "  The  fruit  of  the  Spiritis, 
love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  good- 
ness, faith,  meekness,  temperance."  Gal.  v.  22. 
Look  at  this  list,  and  judge  for  yourself,  whether  you 
have  gone  far  enough  in  honoring  the  Holy  Spirit. 
Well  might  Paul  say,  when  he  brought  this  list  of 
graces  and  virtues  before  the  churches,  "  If  we 
Eve  in  the  Spu-it,  let  us  also  walk  in  the  Spirit." 
Ver.  25.  Why ;  if  we  had  given  as  httle  atten- 
tion to  "  temperance,"  or  to  "  faith,"  or  to  general 
"goodness,"  as  to  "love,  joy,  peace,"  or  as  to 
"meekness,  gentleness,  and  long-suffering,"  we 
should  have  made  "  shipwreck  of  faith  and  a  good 
conscience"  long  ago!  Even  now,  did  our  ac- 
count stand  as  ill  with  the  morals  of  this  list,  as  it 
does  with  the  mercies  of  it,  we  should  almost  set 
ourselves  down  as  being  still  unconverted.  The 
absence  of  both  "joy  and  peace"  does  not,  how- 
ever, prove  that  against  us.  Conversion  may  be 
real,  even  although  our  enjoyment  be  but  small, 
and  our  love  but  weak  yet.  But  still,  although 
neither  hypocrisy  nor  unregeneracy  is  pj-oved,  by 
the  want  of  joy,  nor  by  the  weakness  oi  love,  in- 
attention to  the  Spirit  is  proved  against  us  by 
them :  for  as  the  good  seed  of  joy,  love,  and 
peace,  is  as  abundant  in  his  word,  as  the  good 
seed  of  faith  or  repentance,  both  the  want  and 
the  weakness  of  the  former  fruits  of  the  Spirit, 
must  be  occasioned  by  our  not  sowing  that  seed 
sufficiently.  "  He  that  sowetli  to  the  Spirit,  shall 
of  the  Spirit  reap  life  everlasting."  Gal.  vi.  8 ; 
and  joy  and  peace  in  believing,  are  first-fruits  of 
that  harvest  of  glory.  But  still,  they  are  as  really 
the  fruit  from  seed,  as  they  are  foretastes  of  hea- 
ven. Hence,  Paul  prayed  for  the  churches,  that 
they  might  have  "joy  and  peace  in  behoving;" 
not  in  wishing  for  them,  nor  in  waiting  for  them, 
nor  in  merely  praying  for  them  ;  but  in  behoving 
tlie  joy-giving  and  peace-giving  promises,  or  in 
sowing  to  the  Spirit  the  good  seed  of  good  hopes 
and  strong  consolations. 

This  is  giving  the  Holy  Spirit  his  proper  place, 
in  a  proper  way.  There  is  both  sense  and  humility 
in  wishing  and  waiting  for  the  joy  of  the  Holy 


Ghost,  when  we  are  sowing  the  seed  of  it,  and 
watching  the  springing  of  it,  and  watering  the 
leaf  of  it  by  prayer  :  but  we  are  trifling  with  the 
Spirit,  when  we  are  not  attending  to  what  he  saith 
unto  the  churches.  For  how  can  he  help  us  on 
points,  on  which  we  neglect  to  "hear"  him?  If, 
indeed,  he  had  not  spoken  enough  in  the  promises 
to  comfort  us :  or  not  enough  in  the  precepts,  to 
direct  us  ;  or  not  enough  in  the  warnings  to  check 
us ;  then  wishing  and  waiting  for  the  upspringing 
of  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  in  our  hearts,  without 
sowing  or  seed,  might  neither  be  sinful  nor  use- 
less. It  is,  however,  both,  now  that  the  Scrip- 
tures are  able  to  make  us  wise  unto  salvation, 
and  to  furnish  us  thoroughly  for  every  good  word 
and  work. 

Thus  we  might  have,  and  we  ought  to  have,  the 
joy  of  salvation,  and  the  Spirit  of  adoption,  and 
the  earnest  of  heaven,  as  well  as  the  desire  for 
them.  They  are  as  fully  provided  for,  and  as 
freely  offered,  in  "  what  the  Spirit  saith  unto  the 
churches,"  as  hope  is  warranted  by  what  he  saith 
to  the  world.  "  The  Spirit  speaketh  expressly," 
when  he  assures  the  world,  that  whosoever  will 
believe  shall  have  eternal  life ;  and  not  less  ex- 
pressly when  he  says  to  the  church,  "  he  that  be- 
lieveth  hath  eternal  hfe,  and  shall  not  come  into 
condemnation."  Yea,  tliere  is  much  "  written" 
to  believers  for  the  express  purpose,  that  they 
"  may  know  that  tliey  have  eternal  life ;"  and  thus 
feel  encouraged  and  bound  to  continue  a  life  of 
faith  on  the  son  of  God. 

It  is  by  overlooking  this,  that  backsliding  is  so 
common.  Many  converts  do  not  listen  to  the 
good  and  comfortable  words  of  the  Spirit,  the  be- 
lief of  which  gives  joy  and  peace  ;  but  waste  their 
rime  in  wishing  for  comfort  to  come  into  their 
minds,  or  to  spring  up  in  their  hearts ;  not  fi-om 
what  he  has  said,  but  from  what  he  can  do.  The 
consequence  is,  they  have  not  enough  of  "  the 
peace  of  God,"  nor  of  "  the  comfort  of  the  Holy 
Ghost."  to  keep  theu-  hearts  and  minds  happj;-  or 
steadfast ;  and  thus  they  lose  their  first  love,  and 
often  neglect  their  first  works. 

If  you  have  never  studied  this  subject  before, 
you  are  in  some  danger  of  getting  impatient  with 
this  mode  of  treating  it;  especially  as  I  hardly 
seem  to  have  a  definite  object  before  me.  Do  you 
then  ask  me,  what  I  mean  ]  I  am  glad  of  it ;  for 
a  plain  question  will  bring  me  to  the  point,  or  stop 
me  altogether.  Well;  I  mean,  that  you  have 
nothing  to  expect  from  the  Spirit,  but  just  what 
the  Saviour  promised ;  which  is,  that  the  Comfort- 
er would  sanctify  and  console  by  the  truth — by 
leading  into  all  truth, — and  by  bringing  it  to  re- 
membrance. If,  therefore,  you  and  I  overlooked 
or  forgot  this  fact,  and  satisfied  ourselves  with 
listening  to  the  Spirit  on  only  a  feiv  great  truths, 
what  could  be  expected,  but  that  our  comforts 
should  be  few  and  small,  and  thus  our  declensions 
many  ! 

Now,  do  not  quarrel  nor  quibble  with  this  fact, 
as  if  it  would  impose  upon  you  a  task  which  you 
have  neither  time  nor  ability  to  undertake.  All 
that  the  Spirit  hath  said  to  the  churches,  is  not  so 
much,  but  that  it  may  be  examined  and  consider- 
ed too,  by  reading  over  the  Epistles — not  the 
work  of  a  month  to  the  bu.siest !  And  begin,  if 
you  will,  by  hearing  what  he  hath  said  to  comfort, 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


29 


and  thus  to  confirm,  tliem  who  believe.  You 
want  to  know  whether  the  righteousness  of  Christ 
is  imputed  to  you  ;  and  iie  says,  that  it  is  "  upon 
all  them  that  beUeve."  Rom.  iv.  22.  You  want 
to  know  whether  you  are  a  child  of  God ;  and  he 
saith,  "  ye  are  all  children  of  God  through  faith  in 
Christ."  You  want  to  know  whether  your  sins 
are  pardoned  ;  and  he  saith,  "  he  that  believeth  is 
justified  from  all  tilings."  What  do  you  mean  by 
comfort,  if  this  be  not  enough  to  comfort  you] — 
For,  what  more  could  the  Spirit  say  to  you,  were 
he  to  speak  to  you  as  he  did  to  the  prophets  and 
apostles  ?  True  ;  the  comfort  of  these  sweet  as- 
surances turns  upon  faith.  They  are  only  ad- 
dressed to  believers.  What  then  ]  You  are  not 
as  an  unbeliever,  if  all  your  reliance  be  upon 
Christ,  for  the  holy  salvation  proclaimed  in  the 
gospel.  You  are  a  believer,  if  you  love  salvation 
from  sin  and  wrath,  and  be  honestly  seeking  it  by 
prayer.  The  Spirit  does  not  stand  upon  niceties, 
nor  lay  down  perplexing  distinctions,  when  speak- 
ing of  faith.  He  looks  to  the  heart ;  and  when  it 
is  well  disposed  towards  the  cross  and  sceptre  of 
Christ,  and  willing  to  be  a  debtor  and  dependant 
for  ail  mercy  and  grace,  he  recognises  faith,  who- 
ever else  may  doubt  or  deny  its  existence.  O 
yes  ;  the  love  of  the  Spirit  is  too  tender  and  con- 
siderate, to  perplex  or  embarrass  an  humble  peni- 
tent with  intricate  questions  about  the  nature  of 
faith.  The  substance  of  his  questions  is, — in 
1  whom  do  you  believe  for  salvation  ?  and  for  what 
!  holy  purpose  do  you  believe  }  and  if  our  souls,  in 
'  answer  to  this  appeal,  throw  themselves  upon  the 
Lamb  slain  for  grace  and  law,  the  Spirit  saith, — 
"  be  of  good  cheer,  thy  sins,  which  are  many,  are 
forgiven :  go,  and  sin  no  more." 

Tiiere  would  be  less  backsliding,  if  tliis  were 
believed.  Neither  Satan  nor  the  world  would  be 
able  to  get  such  a  hold  upon  us  as  they  do,  if  we 
took  cnre  to  keep  a  firm  hold  upon  what  the  Spirit 
saith  to  the  churches,  as  a  Comforter.  And  were 
he  to  be  as  much  listened  to  as  a  sanctifier,  there 
would  soon  be  but  few  complaints  about  desertion, 
or  darkness,  or  doubts. 

Where  backsliding,  however,  has  occurred, 
what  the  Spirit  saith  is,  "  Remember  from  whence 
thou  hast  fallen,  and  repent,  and  do  thy  first  works. 
Repent ;  or  else  I  will  come  unto  thee  quickly, 
and  fight  against  thee,  with  the  sword  of  my 
I  mouth."     Rev.  ii.  16.     And  he  keeps  his  word! 

I  The  Spirit  makes  his  sword  turn  against  the  back- 
; sliding,  until  they  return  to  their  first  love  and 
[their  first  works.     Accordingly,  they  can  find  no 

coiiitV)rt  in  his  promises;  no  refreshing  from  his 
-orilinances;  and  but  little  hope  from  the  glorious 
[gospel  itself.     Thus,  their  Bibles  become  to  tlicm 

boolcs  they  are  afraid  to  open ;  and  sacraments, 
'lawful  hazards;  and  their  closets,  painful  retire- 

!!ut  still,  the  Spirit  does  not  say,  even  to  such, 
that  they  are  hypocrites;  nor  that  they  never 
kiif'w  the  grace  of  God  in  truth.  No!  He  treats 
tn.iii  as  fallen  ;  but  not  as  if  they  never  had  stood. 
Aicordingl)^  he  sends  them  to  recommence  their 
"  iirst  works,"  and  not  to  begin  their  faith  anew. 

I I  moan,  he  does  not  treat  them  as  unbelievers, 
but  as  ungrateful  and  disobedient  children,  who 

I  require  to  be  both  wooed  and  warned  to  return 
I  home.     Here,  again,  the  love  of  the  Spirit  shines 


brightly !  He  does  not  make  the  worst  of  very 
bad  cases ;  but  even  when  "  things  are  ready  to 
die,"  says,  "  Be  watchful,  and  strengthen"  them. 

The  general  sentiment  of  this  essay  will  come 
under  your  notice  in  another  form,  when  I  trace 
the  love  of  the  Spirit  watering  and  ripening  the 
good  seed  of  his  own  word.  As,  however,  I  have 
referred  so  much  to  the  Apocalyptic  Epistles  in 
this  chapter,  I  cannot  close  it  without  reminding 
you,  that  the  "first  works"  of  the  primitive 
churches  included  one  work,  which  very  few  mo- 
dern Christians  begin  with— the  consecration  of 
their  property  to  spread  the  gospel.  I  say,  to  the 
spread  of  the  gospel ;  not  the  aggrandisement  of 
its  ministers,  nor  the  architecture  of  its  temples. 
They  laid  their  goods  at  the  feet  of  the  apostles, 
that  the  apostles  might  lay  the  gospel  before  the 
world,  and  enable  its  poor  adherents  to  be  faithful 
unto  death. 

This,  when  it  is  done  at  all  now  by  individuals, 
is  usually  their  last,  instead  of  their  first  work. 
And  yet,  the  first  emotions  of  a  true  convert,  are 
very  much  akin  to  the  benevolent  feelings  of  the 
first  converts  at  Pentecost.  Indeed,  were  the 
ministers  of  the  gospel  as  much  pledged  to  the 
world  now,  or  as  intent  upon  carrying  or  sending 
the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ  to  the  Gentdes, 
as  the  apostles  were  then,  rich  converts  would  do 
now  as  they  did  then  ;  and  the  first  work  of  every 
Christian,  who  had  any  property  beyond  the  ne- 
cessities of  his  family,  would  be  to"  distribute  to 
necessitous  saints,  and  to  help  on  the  chariot  of 
salvation.  And  this  good  work  is  not  loss  neces- 
sary, now  that  it  has  to  be  begun  in  the  churches. 
For  the  churches  will  never  have  the  outpouring 
of  the  Spirit,  until  there  be  an  outpouring  of  their 
own  property  into  the  treasury  of  the  Lord. 

This  time  is  at  hand  ;  and  it  will  be  a  searcliliig 
time.  It  will  soon  be  impossible  for  a  ricii  man  to 
believe  the  gospel,  unJess  he  is  prepared  to  spread 
it.  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  again  making  its 
strait  gate  a  "  needle's  eye,"  througii  which  the 
camels  of  providence  cannot  enter,  without  selhng 
all  they  have,  more  than  they  really  need.  I 
tremble  to  think  how  many,  when  this  duty  is  en- 
forced, wUl,  like  him  upon  whom  it  was  first  en 
joined,  "go  away  sorrowful"  from  Christ,  just 
because  he  wants  their  property  as  well  as  their 
faith. 


No.  IX. 


THE   LOVE   OF   THE   SPIRIT  IN  SEALING  BELIEVERS. 

If  the  witness  of  the  Spirit  be  a  somewhat  mys- 
terious, and  thus  a  perplexing  subject,  to  many 
Christians,  the  seal  of  the  Spirit  is  an  intimidating 
subject,  to  stiU  more.  Indeed,  very  few  venture 
to  say  or  think,  that  they  are  "  sealed  with  tlie 
Holy  Spirit  of  promise."  Eph.  i.  13.  This  is 
hardly  to  be  wondered  at,  however  much  it  sliould 
be  deplored ;  for  when  a  Christian  asks,  "  wliat  is 
the  seal  of  the  Spirit  ]"  and  turns  from  his  Bible 
to  commentaries  for  an  answer,  he  is  not  made 
much  wiser,  nor  at  all  happier,  by  learning  the 
ancient  modes  of  scaling  sacrifices,  letters,  and 


30 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


property.  To  tell  him,  that  believers  are  sealed, 
as  these  were,  to  distinguish  and  preserve  them  ; 
only  widens  the  question,  without  answering  or 
simplifying  it  in  the  least.  It  then  returns  with 
the  puzzling  addition, — what  is  the  distinctive 
mark  1  What  is  the  impress  of  the  seal  of  God, 
upon  the  children  of  God  1 

Now,  when  the  question  takes  this  form,  we 
can  never  be  far  wrong  in  taking  general  ground 
at  first,  and  saying,  "  they  that  are  after  (or  ac- 
cording to)  the  Spirit,  mind  the  things  of  the  Spi- 
rit." Rom.  viii.  5.  For  whatever  his  seal  be, 
they  are  not  utterly  unsealed,  who  are  mindful  of, 
and  take  a  lively  interest  in,  the  things  which  the 
Holy  Spirit  has  written,  and  wrought,  and  promis- 
ed. And  in  like  manner,  they  are  not  altogether 
unsealed,  who  are  not  unsanctified.  Whoever 
has  any  real  features  of  the  image  of  God  upon 
his  heart  and  character,  is  not  quite  without  the 
seal  of  the  Spirit  of  God. 

So  far  this  process  of  settling  the  question  may, 
indeed,  somewhat  confound  sealing  with  sanctifi- 
cation  and  spiritual-mindedness.  That,  however, 
will  do  no  harm  to  truth  or  piety.  Far  better 
confound  the  seal  of  the  Spirit  with  the  sanctifica- 
tion  of  the  Spirit,  than  separate  them.  They 
cannot  be  separated,  in  fact,  nor  in  experience, 
however  they  may  be  distinguished  in  theory.— 
Neither  the  unholy  in  character,  nor  the  carnal  in 
mind,  have  any  seal  of  the  Father,  Son,  or  Spirit 
upon  them.  "  Their  spot  is  not  the  spot  of  his 
children;"  but  "the  mark  of  the  beast,"  or  of 
"  the  false  prophet."  Accordingly,  whenever  any 
thing  independent  of  faith  and  lioHness,  has  been 
invented  or  paraded  as  the  seal  of  heaven,  it  has 
always  been  some  mystery  of  Babylon,  or  some 
vagary  of  fanaticism. 

There  is,  amongst  the  truly  pious,  a  familiar, 
but  emphatic  use  of  the  word  "  sealing,"  which  I 
am  persuaded,  is  quite  as  near  to  the  real  fact  on 
this  subject,  as  the  definitions  of  any  creed  or 
critic.  I  allude,  especially,  to  the  well-known 
stanza, 

"  Prone  to  wander  ;  Lord,  I  feel  it ; 
Prone  to  leave  the  God  I  love. 
Here's  my  heart!  Lord  take  and  seal  it; 
Seal  it  fiom  thy  courts  above." 

Any  Christian  understands  this;  and  every  Chris- 
tian feels  his  need  of  such  sealing,  and  desires  to 
experience  its  help.  For,  having  found,  again  and 
again,  that  warmth  and  tenderness  of  heart  can 
relapse  into  cold  formality  ;  and  that  our  best 
frames  are  not  abiding  ;  and  that  botii  our  views 
and  vows  can  be  almost  forgotten  at  times ;  we 
cannot  but  desire  this  sealing  work  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Tiiat  may  be  more  than  the  perpetuation 
or  the  ratification  of  our  best  viev/s  and  feelings  : 
but  we  know,  and  are  sure,  that  we  are  neither 
prepared  for  more,  nor  likely  to  obtain  a  higher 
seal,  until  our  principles  and  affections  are  more 
sealed  or  confirmed.  And  we  know  also,  that 
when  truth  has  the  force  of  truth  upon  us,  and 
whilst  the  spirit  of  prayer  keeps  up  well,  and 
whilst  we  walk  humbly  and  circumspectly  before 
God,  neither  our  hopes  nor  our  comforts  are  few 
or  small.     They  may  not  amount,  even  then,  to 


all  that  is  meant  by  the  seal  of  the  Holy  Spirit  of 
promise,  as  "  the  earnest  of  the  inheritance  of 
the  purchased  possession"  of  heaven ;  but  they 
are  so  like  it,  that  they  cannot  be  far  from  it.  For 
we  have  soirte  foretastes  of  heaven,  and  some 
humble  consciousness  of  the  beginnings  of  meet- 
ness  for  the  inheritance  in  hght,  when  we  are 
walking  with  God.  They  may  not,  indeed,  be 
very  lasting,  nor  at  all  rapturous  whilst  they  do 
last ;  but  they  are  both  sweet  and  soothing.  They  - 
help  us  to  go  on  with  some  calmness,  and  with 
more  rebsh, "  look  for  tlie  mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  unto  eternal  life." 

It  is,  therefore,  well  worth  our  while  to  trace 
the  love  of  the  Spirit,  in  sealing  his  own  work 
upon  the  soul,  even  if  his  special  seal  be  some- 
thing more  and  higher,  than  settled  principles  and 
habits  of  faith  and  holiness.  Indeed,  the  more 
than  these  it  is,  the  more  need  there  is  that  these 
should  be  sealed,  or  confirmed,  by  the  Spirit.  For, 
to  what  can  you  look  in  your  religious  experience, 
which,  if  left  to  itself,  would  not  have  vanished 
away,  like  the  early  cloud  or  the  morning  dew  1 

True;  there  is  vitality  in  gracious  principles. 
But  why  ]  Just  because  the  Spirit  who  implant- 
ed them,  keeps  them  alive.  The  good  work  of 
grace  in  the  heart  does  go  on ;  but  it  does  so,  be- 
cause he  who  began  it,  carries  it  on.  Where 
would  its  goodness  or  its  progress  have  been  at 
this  moment,  had  it  depended  entirely  upon  its 
first  powerfulness,  or  upon  our  prudence  ■?  Alas^ 
we  have  often  brought  that  good  work  to  a  very 
low  ebb,  and  into  a  bad  position  in  our  hearts. 
We  have,  at  times,  thought  that  it  was  utterly 
lost ;  or  that  it  had  been  only  a  delusion,  from  the 
first.  And  it  would  have  gone  entirely,  had  not 
the  Holy  Spirit  loved  it  more  than  we  prized  it» 
and  watered  it  more  than  we  watched  it.  It 
lives,  because  he,  in  common  with  Christ,  has  ever 
hved  to  keep  it  alive. 

This  is  emphatically  true  of  that  sense  of  guilt 
and  danger,  in  which  the  work  of  grace  usually 
begins.  For,  had  not  our  first  convictions  been 
sealed  by  the  Spirit,  as  well  as  awakened  by  him, 
they  would  either  have  passed  away,  or  been 
shaken  off.  Self-upbraiding,  and  especially  self- 
condemnation,  are  so  unnatural  and  painful,  that 
the  mind  does  all  it  can,  first  to  evade  them,  and 
then  to  throw  them  off.  The  fear  of  perishing 
would  never  gain  such  an  ascendency  over  our 
self-love  and  self-complacency,  as  would  lay  us 
down,  self-condemned,  at  the  feet  of  God,  did  not 
the  Spirit  of  God  bring  it  to  this  point,  and  keep 
it  there  long  enough  to  compel  flight  from  tlie 
wrath  to  come.  "  A  fearful  looking  for  of  judg- 
ment, and  fiery  indignation,"  is  too  fearful,  to  be 
willingly  admitted,  or  long  retained,  by  the  mind. 
It  would  be  kept  out,  or  cast  out,  if  we  could. 

But  if  it  had — we  should  not  have  fled  for  re- 
fuge from  the  wrath  to  come,  to  lay  liold  on  the 
hope  set  before  us  in  the  gospel.  Had  not  the 
Spirit  sealed  our  fears,  until  they  shut  us  up  to  the 
cross  and  the  mercy-seat,  v;ith  the  cry,  "Lord, 
save,  I  perish,"  we  should  never  have  bv^come  be- 
lievers, nor  penitents. 

This  sealing  of  the  sense  of  danger,  at  the  very 
time  when  the  mind  is  doing  all  it  can  to  rid  itself 
of  fear,  is  not,  indeed  the  sealing  spoken  of  in 
Scripture.     Tliat,  whatever  it  be,  comes  "after" 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


31 


believing.  Hence  Paul  says  to  the  Ephesians, 
"  After  ye  believed,  ye  were  sealed."  i.  13.  There 
would,  however,  be  no  believing  with  the  heart 
unto  salvation,  if  there  was  no  sealing,  on  the 
heart,  of  the  awakened  sense  of  the  need  of  sal- 
vation. It  is  only  sealed  convictions,  that  lead  to 
saving  conversion.  Do,  mark  the  love  of  the 
Spirit  in  this  !  It  well  deserves  your  admiration 
and  gratitude.  He  carried  out  your  fears  far 
enough,  and  kept  them  up  long  enough,  to  render 
the  gospel  glad  tidings  to  your  uneasy  conscience, 
and  to  make  Christ  precious  to  your  soul.  It  was, 
no  doubt,  very  painful  at  first,  to  be  kept  on  the 
rack  of  suspense,  whether  by  terror  or  by  timidity  ; 
but  it  was  good  for  you.  It  led  to  a  fervency  of 
prayer,  and  to  a  searching  for  hope,  and  to  a  cast- 
ing of  the  soul  upon  Christ  entirely,  that  more 
than  compensated  for  all  the  pain.  For  you  could 
not  wish  now,  that  your  sense  of  danger  had  been 
shghter  at  the  time,  however  trying  it  was  for  the 
time. 

Well ;  observe  how  it  has  been  sealed  by  the 
Spirit,  since  it  ceased  to  be  painfid  and  oppressive. 
You  have  not  now  that  "fearful  looking  for  of 
judgment,"  which  once  haunted  your  conscience, 
or  depressed  your  spirits :  but  stUl,  you  do  look 
forward  to  tlie  judgment-seat.  You  have  lost 
"  the  fear  which  hath  torment ;"  but  you  cherish 
still  a  holy  fear  or  awe  of  both  judgment  and  eter- 
nity. You  are  neither  altogether  fearful,  nor  al- 
together fearless.  Why]  There  has  been  a 
sealing  of  your  convictions  at  tliis  middle  point, 
between  absolute  dread,  and  perfect  peace.  I 
mean,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  has  taken  care,  that 
you  should  neither  despair  nor  presume. 

It  is  just  as  true  of  the  way  of  salvation,  as  of 
our  need  of  salvation,  that  both  our  knowledge 
and  love  of  it,  require  to  be  sealed  by  the  Spirit, 
in  order  to  live  and  last.  They  are  not  natural  to 
us,  any  more  than  self-condemnation  ;  and,  there- 
fore, although  more  agreeable,  they  too  would 
vanish  away,  if  the  power  which  created  them 
did  not  confirm  them.  Accordingly,  we  know  by 
bitter  experience,  that  our  clearest  views  of  our 
warrant  and  welcome  to  trust  in  Christ,  have  be- 
come so  dim  and  indistinct,  that  we  could  make 
nothing  of  the  gospel  for  a  time,  in  our  own  case. 
And,  what  is  worse,  our  love  of  the  gospel  can 
wax  cold,  even  when  our  knowledge  of  it  is  not 
clouded  nor  confused. 

And  had  tiiis  darkness  and  disrelish  gone  on, 
or  remained,  when  they  set  in  upon  our  mind, 
where  now  had  been  our  faith  or  hope !  Who 
does  not  feel,  that  iie  requires  to  be  kept  to  the 
cross,  as  well  as  brought  to  it  "J  This  is  a  melan- 
choly confession  ;  but  it  is  only  too  true !  Our 
hearts  can  be  treacherous  even  to  the  Saviour; 
and  our  consciences,  to  the  blood  of  sprinklmg. 
They  have  both  had  to  be  sealed  again  and  again, 
in  order  to  bind  them  to  the  only  thing  which  can 
pacify  or  purify  them. 

But,  thus,  they  have  been  bound  to  "  the  horns 
of  the  altar"  of  Calvary  !  They  may  at  times  so 
loosen  "  the  cords"  of  confirmation,  as  to  seem  about 
to  fall  or  fly  otf  entirely  ;  but  tliey  do  neither  long. 
We  cannot  forget,  for  many  days  together,  what 
we  have  known  and  felt  of  our  need  of  a  person- 
al interest  in  Christ ;  nor  can  we  give  up,  often, 
the  habit  of  seeking,  or  of  trying,  to  make  sure, 
69  (16) 


]  of  bemg  found  in  him.  Why  ■?  we  have  sealed 
I  persuasions  of  the  necessity  of  this,  and  settled 
!  desires  to  obtain  it.  Our  efforts  have  not,  alas, 
I  been  equal  to  our  convictions  or  to  our  desires ; 
but  they  would  have  been  less  than  they  are,  had 
not  the  Holy  Spirit  stamped  our  concern  to  be- 
long to  Christ,  with  stability  and  perpetuity. 

It  is  peculiarly  delightful  to  trace  the  love  of 
the  Spirit,  in  keeping  alive,  in  spite  of  all  the 
world's  snares,  and  all  the  heart's  treacheries,  and 
all  Satan's  temptations,  a  settled  sense  of  our 
need  of  an  interest  in  the  unfinished  work  of 
Christ.  This  need  has  been  before  us  for  years, 
in  all  Ughts  and  in  all  forms  ;  but  we  are  neither 
tired  of  feeling  it,  nor  indifferent  about  its  success. 
Our  hearts  return  to  it,  however  they  wander ;  and 
our  prayers  re-centre  upon  it,  however  they  fail 
for  a  time.  Thus  our  solicitude  to  be  found  in 
Christ,  has  been  so  far  sealed  by  the  Spirit,  that 
we  do  not,  and  dare  not,  give  up  seeking  to  be 
found  in  him. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  remember,  in  this  con- 
nection, how  our  general  views  and  convictions  of 
the  truth  of  the  gospel,  have  survived  shocks  of 
trial,  or  of  temptation,  which  must  have  upset 
them,  had  they  not  been  sustained  by  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Sometimes,  the  dispensations 
of  Providence  have  seemed  to  us,  at  variance  with 
both  the  promises  and  doctrines  of  Grace.  We 
have  looked  for  hght,  and  found  darkness  ;  for 
joy,  and  found  only  sorrow.  Then,  God's  dealings 
seemed  clashing  with  God's  word,  and  his  provi- 
dence running  contrary  to  his  promises.  This 
creates  a  sad  dilemma  !  When  this  suspicion  set- 
tles in  the  mind,  it  unsettles  every  thing  for  a  time. 
Oh,  were  there  no  seal  put  upon  our  principles, 
when  the  rod  of  Providence  seems  to  contradict 
the  pen  of  inspiration,  and  the  hand  of  God  to 
undo  the  word  of  God,  by  mysterious  visitations, 
how  soon  and  entirely  our  faith  would  fail !  Yes ; 
had  it  not  been  sealed  in  the  cloudy  and  dark  day, 
when  all  things  seemed  against  us,  we  should  have 
made  shipwreck  of  both  faith  and  a  good  con- 
science. 

It  is  not  adversity  only,  that  can  thus  peril  the 
life  of  faith.  Prosperity,  also,  not  unfrequently, 
induces  a  state  of  mind  prone  to  speculation,  or 
open  to  sceptical  suggestions.  Satan  thus  finds 
it  easy,  first  to  amuse  the  soul  with  curious  ques- 
tions, and  then  to  entangle  it  with  jjlausible  sophis- 
tries. And,  having  inserted  the  wedge  of  doubt 
among  the  mass  of  first  principles,  he  drives  it 
homer  until  they  split  up  like  dry  timber  or  a 
veined  rock.  Nothing  could  stop  their  destruc- 
tion, but  seals  which  stop  the  rent. 

If  you  have  at  all  passed  tlirough  trying  exer- 
cises of  mind  from  affliction  or  temptation,  it 
ought  not  to  be  very  difficult  for  you  to  conceive, 
how  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  the  Spirit  of  promise, 
seals  the  souls  unto  the  day  of  redemption.  This 
is  not  more  unlikely,  nor  more  inexphcable,  than 
that,  as  the  Spirit  of  faith  and  truth,  he  should 
have  sealed  your  principles  and  desires,  when  they 
were  giving  way  before  heavy  trials,  or  harassing 
temptations.  You  are  no  stranger  to  sealmg,  if 
you  have  passed  through  deep  and  dark  waters, 
without  losing  entirely  your  faith  or  your  hope. 
You  may  well  behove  Uiat  the  Spu-it  of  promise 


32 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


can  seal  your  hopes,  seeing  he  has  so  often  revived 
them.  ^    ,  11 

I  prefer  to  let  the  meaning  of  the  special  seal 
of  the  Spirit  creep  out  thus,  without  formality  of 
definition  or  announcement,  that  you  may  not 
only  judge  for  yourself,  but  also  enjoy  what  you 
discover.  It  is,  you  see,  only  a  higher  and  strong- 
er degree  of  the  hope  of  eternal  redemption. 
That  is  usuaUy  weak  and  fluctuating  at  first. 
Even  the  joy  and  peace  found  at  first  in  believing, 
have  not  much  of  a  heavenly  character  about 
them.  I  mean,  they  are  not  so  much  earnests  or 
foretastes  of  heavenly  peace  and  joy,  as  sweet  re- 
liefs from  present  fear  and  anguish.  They  rather 
look  back  with  wonder  to  the  past  day  of  dread, 
than  forward  with  delight  or  composure  to  the 
final  day  of  redemption ;  and  thus  are  but  earnests 
of  "  the  earnest  of  the  inheritance"  of  the  saints 
in  light. 

It  is  then  when  the  soul  is  enabled  to  hft  up  its 
head,  in  prospect  of  the  final  day  of  redemption, 
with  a  hope  full  of  immortality,  that  it  is  sealed  by 
the  Holy  Spirit  of  promise,  as  the  earnest  of  hea- 
ven. When  he  carries  out  the  hope  of  finding 
grace,  to  the  hope  of  glory  also ;  and  makes 
present  communion  with  God  and  the  Lamb,  a 
sweet  foretaste  of  eternal  happiness ;  then,  the 
soul  is  sealed  as  well  as  enlightened — confirmed 
as  well  as  comforted. 

This  is  not  so  uncommon  as  some  say.  There 
are,  perhaps,  but  very  few  Christians,  who  have 
not  been  again  and  again  sealed  with  earnests  of 
the  heavenly  inheritance  ;  although  they  have  not 
ventured  to  call  or  consider  then- 

"  Moments  rich  in  blessing," 

as  earnests  of  glory.  But,  have  you  not  known 
such  times  of  refreshing,  both  in  the  sanctuary 
and  the  closet,  when  you  found  it  something  like 
heaven  begun  on  earth,  to  see  God  in  a  light,  and 
the  Saviour  in  a  light,  which  hushed  all  your  anx- 
ieties, and  filled  your  soul  with  peace  ?  Have  you 
not  felt  at  times  such  oneness  of  spirit  with  all  the 
armies  of  heaven,  that  you  could  not  but  see  how 
instinctively  and  cheerfully  your  heart  joined  their 
harps  in  ascribing  "  Salvation  and  glory  to  God 
and  the  Lamb  !"  Have  you  not  said  at  the  wells 
of  salvation, 


If  such  the  sweetness  of  the  streams, 

What  must  the  fountain  be, 
Where  saints  and  anprels  draw  their  bliss 

Immediately  from  Thee  ?" 


of  their  inheritance.     Thus  he  wanted  them  to 
have  more  sealing  eartnests  of  heaven. 

And  that  their  first  sealing  did  not  confirm  their 
souls  long,  is  but  too  evident  from  the  Saviour's 
message  from  Patmos  ;  charging  them  with  hav- 
ing "left  their  first  love,"  and  threatening  to  re- 
move their  "candlestick  out  of  its  place,"  un- 
less tliey  repented.  These  facts  give  the  he  di- 
rect to  all  theories  of  sealing,  which  make  the 
seal  final  or  indelible.  His  seal  like  every  other 
part  of  his  work,  has  to  be  renewed  from  time  to 
time.  Lilve  his  witness,  it  is  not  abiding  any 
longer  than  we  keep  from  grieving  him.  The 
Holy  Spirit  soon  unseals  every  one,  who  makes  a 
bad  use  of  his  comforts.  And  in  misealing  the 
inconsistent  and  slothful,  he  evinces  as  much  love, 
as  when  he  seals,  most  fully,  the  diligent  and  de- 
votional. For  if  we  could  find  the  sanctuary  "a 
httle  heaven  below,"  however  seldom  we  were  in 
our  closets,  or  however  unwatchful  we  were  in  the 
world,  we  should  soon  try  more  hazardous  experi- 
ments. 

You  now  see  that  the  seal  of  the  Spirit  is  nothing 
which  makes  either  calling  or  election  sure,  apart 
from  walking  in  the  Spirit,  and  bearing  the  fruits 
of  the  Spirit.  It  makes  these  fruits  foretastes  of 
heavenly  happiness  :  and  that  is  all.  But  that  is 
much  !  "  The  fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  love,  joy, 
peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  meek- 
ness, temperance."  Gal.  v.  22.  And  what  a 
sweet  and  useful  sealing  of  the  soul  it  is,  when 
these  take  a  heavenward  direction,  and  something 
of  a  heavenly  character !  How  delightful  it  is  to 
love,  feelmg  that  it  will  be  perfect  and  eternal  in 
heaven  !  How  joy  improves,  when  we  think  of  it 
becoming  full  of  glory  !  How  peace  passeth  all 
understanding,  when  we  think  of  it  reigning  unto 
eternal  hfe  !  How  gentleness  and  goodness  com- 
mend themselves,  when  we  realise  them  as  holi- 
ness which  can  never  be  tarnished,  and  as  com- 
posure which  can  never  be  ruffled  ! 

And  this  is  the  way  to  ripen  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit.  Instead  of  looking  at  them  only  in  their 
connection  with  this  world,  we  ought  to  lift  them 
up,  one  by  one,  into  the  light  and  warmth  of  glory, 
that  we  may  see  and  feel  how  they  will  be  "  plea- 
sures for  evermore."  But  this  subject  must  not 
be  treated  thus  vaguely.  It  will  come  under  your 
notice  in  a  more  definite  form,  in  a  subsequent 
chapter,  where  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  as  the  earn- 
est of  the  heavenly  inheritance,  is  traced  experi- 
mentally. 


This  is  the  sealing  work  of  the  Spirit.  Nothing 
is  more  unwarranted  or  unwise,  than  to  regard 
that,  as  either  indelible  assurance,  or  an  unalter- 
able witness  of  sonship.  It  was  not  a  full  nor  an 
abiding  earnest  of  heaven  to  the  Ephesians  ;  al- 
though a  real  earnest  whilst  they  took  care  not  to 
"grieve  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  whereby  they 
were  sealed."     Eph.  iv.  30. 

Observe  this  fact.  Even  whilst  their  first  love 
was  in  its  first  glow,  and  when  they  were  just 
sealed,  Paul  told  them,  that  he  bowed  his  knees 
for  them  in  prayer,  that  they  might  be  rooted  and 
grounded  in  love,  and  that  they  might  know  the 
iiope  of  their  calling,  and  the  riches  of  the  glory 


No.  X. 


THE   LOVE   OF   THE   SPIRIT    IN    SANCTIFICATION. 

It  is  not  easy,  even  with  the  promise  of  the  Spirit 
before  us,  to  maintain  a  lively  hope  of  sanctifica- 
tion,  in  the  presence  of  the  solemn  assurance, 
that  "without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the 
Lord  :" — and  it  would  be  impossible  to  hope  at  all 
in  the  face  of  the  fact  that  "  nothing  which  de- 
fileth"  can  enter  heaven,  if  we  had  not  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  look  to,  and  depend  upon.  They  laiov/ 
little  of  heaven,  and  care  still  less  about  it,  who 
do  not  feel  this.     It  is  deeply  felt  by  those  who 


THE    LOVE    OP    THE    SPIRIT. 


33 


cannot  forget,  that  heaven  is  a  prepared  place  for 
prepared  people  ;  or  an  inheritance  for  which  they 
must  be  made  "  meet"  by  grace,  as  well  as  made 
«  heirs"  by  Christ.  Such  persons  are  not  relieved 
from  solicitude,  or  from  suspense,  in  tlieir  own 
case,  by  knowing  well,  that  meetness  for  the  in- 
heritance of  the  saints  in  light,  does  not  mean 
perfection  in  this  world.  They  know  too,  that 
it  means  more  holiness  than  they  have  yet  attam- 
ed  or  attempted.  They  also  see  things  about 
themselves,  so  unholy,  that  they  are  almost  afraid 
to  regard  themselves  as  real  subjects  of  "  the  true 
grace  of  God."  Even  what  is  best  in  their  cha- 
racter and  heart  is  so  imperfect,  weak,  and  vari- 
able, that  they  sometimes  doubt  thefr  own  sin- 
cerity, as  well  as  their  personal  interest  in  Christ. 
And,  had  they  not  the  power  and  the  grace  of  the 
Spirit  to  look  to  ;  and,  did  he  not  "  in  his  love  and 
in  his  pity  save  them,"  they  would  despair  alto- 
gether, when  they  weighed  themselves  in  the  ba- 
lance of  the  heavenly  sanctuary.  For,  even  with 
the  Spirit  to  depend  upon,  they  can  hardly  keep 
up  hope,  whilst  the  plagues  of  their  hearts  keep 
down  the  fruits  of  tlie  Spirit  in  their  character. 
Then,  the  difficulty  is, — to  see  how  there  can  be 
any  sanctifying  grace,  where  there  is  so  much  un- 
sanctified  nature  ;  or  how  there  can  be  any  saving 
work  of  the  Spirit,  where  the  workings  of  the 
flesh  are  so  powerful. 

I  We  must  remember  more  than  the  power  of 
the  Spirit,  when  we  feel  thus,  if  we  would  con- 
tinue to  follow  holiness  witli  a  hope  full  of  immor- 
tality. We  must  take  hold  of  his  love,  in  order 
to  get  hold  of  his  power,  at  such  a  crisis.  I  can- 
not see  how  his  hand  will  work  for  my  sanctifica- 
tion,  until  I  see  how  his  heart  feels  towards  me. 
Now  although  it  be  no  easy  matter  to  believe 
that  he  can  love  again,  or  love  at  all,  after  he  has 
been  so  often  grieved  and  vexed,  by  wayward- 
ness or  by  ingratitude  ;  stUl,  until  this  is  beheved, 
or  at  least  hoped,  his  power  cannot  be  drawn  nor 
calculated  upon.  Accordingly,  we  try  to  gather 
from  our  wishes  to  be  holy — from  our  willingness 
to  submit  to  sanctifying  discipline — from  our  dread 
and  loathing  of  being  given  up  to  the  lusts  of  the 
flesh  or  of  tlie  mind — from  our  keen  sense  of  the 
way  and  degree  in  which  holiness  would  make  us 
happier,  and  from  our  deep  sense  of  the  beauty  of 
holmess — we  try  to  gather  proofs,  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  would  not  have  shown  us  these  things, 
nor  sealed  our  convictions  of  them,  had  he  not 
loved  us. 

We  are,  indeed,  very  ingenious  in  balancing 
things,  and  in  making  the  best  of  bad  circum- 
stances, when  the  fear  of  having  the  Holy  Spirit 
taken  from  us,  comes  in  like  a  flood  upon  our 
hearts.  It  is,  however,  for  a  good  purpose,  that 
we  thus  try  to  make  out  a  good  case  in  our  own 
behalf.  We  are  trying  to  increase  our  love  to  the 
Spirit,  when  we  are  thus  straining  our  ingenuity 
to  keep  up  the  hope,  that  he  loves  us.  It  is  not 
in  order  to  be  less  afraid  of  grieving  him,  that  we 
cling  to  the  fond  hope  of  being  still  precious  in 
his  sight.  O,  no  ;  when  we  are  most  mtent  upon 
making  out  to  ourselves,  that  Jie  has  not  left  us 
entirely,  nor  forgotten  us  at  all,  we  are  most  de- 
termined not  to  quench  or  vex  him  again.  Tiius 
it  is  for  holy  purposes,  that  we  wish  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  abide  with  us  for  ever.    It  is  because  we 


feel  his  work  in  us,  to  be  a  "  good  work,"  and 
wish  it  to  be  carried  on  in  its  goodness  as  well  as 
its  existence,  that  we  are  so  willing  to  hope  for 
his  continued  help. 

And  we  are  right  in  all  this.  The  Holy  Spirit 
does  love  all  who  are  trying  to  love  him,  and  pray- 
ing to  be  sanctified  by  his  grace.  His  heart  is 
not  alienated,  nor  cold,  nor  grudging,  towards  any 
heart  that  wishes  to  open  itself  to  the  sweet  in- 
fluences of  his  holy  presence.  He  knocks,  and 
strives,  and  woos,  even  at  the  door  of  hearts  which 
are  resisting  and  evading  him ;  and,  therefore,  it 
is  no  presumption  nor  rash  conclusion,  to  believe 
that  he  is  not  departed  from  those  who,  although 
they  have  grieved  liim,  are  yet  deeply  grieved  for 
having  done  so,  and  honestly  desirous  to  be 
"  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Well ;  it  will  much  increase  and  confirm  your 
habit  of  "  minding  the  things  of  the  Spirit,"  thus 
seriously  and  conscientiously,  to  trace  the  love  of 
the  Spirit  in  sanctification.  You  do  not  see  that 
love,  in  either  its  warmth  or  strength,  by  a  hasty 
glance  at  the  surface  of  your  own  conformity  to 
the  divine  image.  You  are  not  aware  of  how 
much  he  has  done  in  you  and  for  you,  whilst  you 
look  only  at  what  you  have  done  yet  in  following 
holiness.  His  "  good  work"  is  greater  and  better 
than  your  good  works.  Not  that  it  is  a  substitute 
for  practical  holiness.  O,  no  !  There  is  no  good 
work  of  grace  in  the  heart,  where  there  are  no 
good  works  of  godhness  in  the  life.  There  is 
none  of  tlie  grace  of  the  Spirit,  where  there  are 
none  of  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit.  But  still,  it  is 
"  the  root  of  the  matter,"  that  brings  forth  the 
fruits  of  the  matter.  It  is  the  goodness  of  the 
tree,  that  makes  the  fruit  good. 

It  is  not,  however,  by  figures  or  emblems,  that 
the  worth  of  the  pruiciple  of  true  holiness  can  be 
experimentally  shown.  "  That  which  is  born  of 
the  Spirit,  is  spirit ;"  a  new  creation  ;  or  the 
germe  of  a  "  divine  nature,"  immortal  in  its  prin- 
ciple, and  holy  in  all  its  tendencies.  Thus  facts 
are  stronger  than  figures,  on  this  subject :  indeed, 
so  strong,  that  they  are  almost  staggering  to  us, 
when  we  first  try  our  own  regeneration  by  them. 
No  wonder  !  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh,  is 
flesh ;  and  in  general,  it  has  grown  up  so  much  be- 
fore we  seek  to  be  born  again  of  the  Spirit ;  and, 
even  after,  it  finds  so  much  in  earthly  tilings,  and 
in  worldly  example,  to  nourisli  and  cherish  it ; 
whilst  that  which  is  bom  of  the  Spirit,  and  is 
spirit,  finds  so  little,  that  the  former  overtops  and 
outweighs  it.  O,  how  difficult  it  is,  when  com- 
paring that  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit,  with  that 
which  is  born  of  the  flesh,  to  prove,  even  to  our- 
selves, the  existence  of  the  spiritual  principle, 
whilst  the  carnal  principle  is  so  predominant! 
Were  it  not  that  the  spiritual  principle  rallies 
again,  after  seeming  extinct  or  overpowered  ;  and 
thus  continues  to  exist  like  a  spark  in  the  ocean, 
unquenciied  by  the  many  cold  and  stormy  waters 
which  go  over  it,  I  see  not  how  we  could  satisfy 
ourselves,  that  we  are  born  of  God.  But  here  is 
a  fact  in  our  religious  history, — inexpUcabJe  in  any 
other  way :  we  cannot  give  up  altogetJier  the  de- 
sire or  the  pursuit  of  holiness  ;  we  cannot  forget 
the  necessity  of  it,  nor  the  beauty  in  it,  which  we 
have  seen  and  felt :  we  cannot  bear  the  idea  of 
coining  under  the  dominion  of  sin  or  Satan  j  but 


34 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


however  mastered  or  betrayed  at  times,  we  gladly 
try  again  and  again  to  "  put  off  the  old  man  with 
his  deeds,  and  to  put  on  the  new  man,  which  after 
God  is  created  in  righteousness  and  true  holiness." 
Is  not  this  the  finger  of  God,  and  the  hand  of  the 
Spirit?  This  "pursumg"  of  holiness,  although 
faint,  goes  on  and  holds  out  so,  from  year  to  year, 
notwithstanding  fightings  without  and  fears  with- 
in, and  in  spite  of  so  many  hinderances  and  dis- 
couragements, that  I  cannot  account  for  it,  nor 
explain  it  at  all,  but  by  saying — spirit  must  have 
been  bom  of  the  Spirit,  where  the  holy  principle 
thus  survives,  and  tries  to  surmount  the  world,  the 
devil,  and  the  flesh.  For  nothing  of  this  kind  is 
seen  in,  or  pretended  by,  the  unregenerate. — 
When  they  are  "led  captive  by  Satan  at  his  will," 
it  is  at  their  own  wUl  too.  They  are  willing,  as 
well  as  chained  captives  :  whereas,  when  a  Chris- 
tian is  most  chained,  he  is  most  unwillmg,  and 
never  so  unhappy. 

You  feel  this.  Well ;  I  want  you  to  mark  the 
love  of  the  Spirit,  in  producing  and  sustaining  this 
holy  principle,  or  "law  of  the  mind,"  which  "the 
law  of  the  flesh,"  although  for  ever  warring  agamst 
it,  does  not  overcome.  Now,  what  but  love  could 
induce  him  to  implant  this  divine  principle  in  our 
impure  and  earthly  hearts  !  It  is,  remember,  the 
germe  of  the  divine  image ;  "  the  seed  of  God !" 
Now,  although  our  hearts  are  not,  by  nature, 
worse  than  others,  we  know  most  about  our  own  ; 
and  ought,  therefore,  to  judge  from  them,  when- 
ever we  study  the  love  or  the  condescension  of 
the  Spirit,  in  beginning  in  them  the  good  work  of 
conformity  to  the  image  of  God.  VVe  should  not 
have  begun  it  ourselves,  even  if  we  could  have 
turned 

"  The  stone  to  flesh." 

An  angel  would  have  been  afraid  to  try  it,  even  if 
he  had  been  able  to  accomplish  the  change  of 
heart :  for,  as  he  could  only  liave  influenced  us  by 
persuasion,  he  might  have  dreaded  infection  from 
long  familiarity  with  the  plagues  of  the  human 
heart.  No  pure  spirit,  but  "the  Eternal  Spirit" 
could  deal  with  our  spirits,  long,  and  frequently, 
and  deeply,  without  contamination  and  disgust. 
Accordingly,  none  of  the  angels  can  take  "joy" 
in  us,  until  we  become  penitents.  Their  rejoicing 
begins  with  our  repentance.  But  wonder,  O 
heavens  !  the  infinitely  Holy  Spirit,  "  for  the  great 
love  wherewith  he  loved  us,  even  when  we  were 
dead  in  sins,  quickened  us,"  without  reluctance, 
and  has  kept  us  alive  without  wearying.  Herein 
is  love ;  not  that  we  loved  him  or  holiness ;  but 
that  he  loved  us,  and  wrought  upon  our  hearts,  in 
which  Satan  was  more  welcome,  and  the  world 
more  precious. 

When  I  think  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  thus  produc- 
ing "spirit,"  where  there  was  nothing  but  flesh,  or 
carnal  and  earthly  mindedness,  I  feel  no  curiosity 
to  know  the  modp.  of  his  operations, — I  am  so 
eatisfied  and  pleased  with  their  effect  upon  the 
tastes  and  tempers  of  the  natural  mind.  It  is  in- 
deed, sj)irit  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit,  when  a  sin- 
ner is  made  alive  unto  God,  through  Christ  Jesus. 
For,  from  that  moment,  there  is  an  absorbing  con- 
cern about  the  divine  favor  and  image,  which 
proves,  that,  however  «  old  things"  are  unseated 


in  the  heart,  and  however  "new  things"  spring  up 
in  it,  as  to  the  -process  of  the  change, — the  former 
are  passing  away,  and  the  latter  growing.  What 
are  definitions  of  the  modes  of  spiritual  opera- 
tions, compared  with  this  "  demonstration  of  the 
Spirit  ]" 

This  divine  change  whether  sudden  or  gradual, 
speaks  for  itself,  and  declares  its  author  at  once, 
by  its  holy  tendencies.  It  stops  the  dominion  of 
sin,  and  strips  all  vice  of  its  blandishments,  and 
makes  holiness  rise  before  the  mind  in  winning 
forms  of  beauty  and  pleasure,  and  concentrates 
the  desires  and  determinations  of  the  soul  upon 
real  goodness. 

I  know,  alas,  too  weU,  how  this  new  bent  of  the 
mind  may  be  unbent  again  and  again,  for  a  time, 
by  the  force  of  temptation  and  circumstances ;  but 
I  know,  also,  that  it  can  never  be  forgotten,  how- 
ever much  it  may  be  lost  by  the  fallen  backslider, 
or  laughed  at  by  the  reckless  backslider.  I  have 
seen  the  latter,  hke  a  ruined  gamester,  affect  to 
despise  his  loss;  but  his  eye  contradicted  his 
tongue,  and  his  smiles  at  his  former  experience 
were  alternately  ghastly  and  bitter.  The  mocker 
was  evidently  miserable  ! 

There  is  a  great  mistake  prevails,  in  regard  to 
those  who,  "  after  they  have  escaped  the  pollu- 
tions of  the  world,  through  the  knowledge  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  are  again  entangled  tlierein 
and  overcome."  2  Pet.  ii.  20.  It  is  supposed  by 
many,  and  I  was  one  of  the  many  long,  that  those 
who  return  to  their  "  vomit  and  mire,"  after  hav- 
ing known  the  way  of  righteousness,  find  enjoy- 
ment in  their  old  sins.  Enjoyment !  Transgressors 
dwell  in  a  dry  land,  and  their  path  is  hard. — 
"  Were  you  such  a  fool,"  (said  one  of  them  to  me 
when  I  expressed  my  astonishment  at  his  apparent 
tranquillity,  during  the  years  in  which  I  had  no 
suspicion  of  his  being  a  sensuahst,)  "  as  to  beheve 
my  pretences  ?  Why,  sir,  I  never  lay  down  a  night 
then,  without  being  prepared  to  end  my  misery  in 
this  world,  if  I  should  be  unable  to  drown  it  by 
drinking.  I  carried  hell  about  with  me,  whether 
you  saw  me  canting  or  caricaturing."  I  have 
never  been  imposed  on  by  such  gentry  since  ;  nor 
once  deceived  by  taking  it  for  granted,  that  they 
were  miserable,  just  in  proportion  to  the  loudness 
and  frequency  of  their  avowals  of  being  quite  at 
their  ease.  I  am  persuaded  also,  that  theoretic  as 
well  as  practical  Antinomians,  are  utter  strangers 
to  enjoyment,  however  they  may  talk.  The  very 
ingenuity  and  dexterity,  which  tliey  evince  in 
their  arguments  about  eternal  sanctification,  and 
about  Christ  being  their  personal  as  well  as  their 
justifying  righteousness,  are  too  unnatural  to  be 
any  thing  but  masks  of  a  bad  or  a  burning  con- 
science. Such  spasmodic  forms  of  hope,  are 
merely  indications  of  secret  despair.  A  man  who 
has  a  good  hope  through  grace,  never  assigns  bad 
reasons  for  it,  nor  astounds  sober  minds  by  start- 
ling perversions  of  truth  or  logic  ;  whereas  the 
man  whose  wits  have  been  at  work,  and  on  the 
rack,  to  find  out  doctrinal  excuses  in  the  cross  or 
the  covenant,  for  an  unholy  hope,  tells  more  than 
he  intends,  when  he  affirms  that  he  is  not  unhappy 
in  his  mind,  nor  wretched  in  his  closet. 

But  enough  of  tliis  ;  although  I  could  reveal 
much  more.  I  just  hint  at  these  reckless  experi- 
ments, that  you  and  I  may  flee,  as  from  a  serpent, 


THE    LOVE    OP    THE    SPIRIT. 


85 


from  all  teaching  and  temptations,  which  would 
reconcile  us  to  any  theory  of  sanctiiication,  that 
is  not  both  practical  and  progressive  in  its  charac- 
ter. No  man  is  "  elect  according  to  the  foreknow- 
ledge of  God,"  but  "  through  sanctiiication  of  the 
Spirit,  unto  the  obedience,"  as  well  as  "the 
sprinlding  of  the  blood  of  Christ."     1  Pet.  i.  2. 

Is  this  your  creed  and  conviction  ?  Well ;  just 
consider  ihc  love  of  the  Spirit,  in  leading  us  into 
all  truth  on  this  subject.  We  see  now,  that 
"  Christ  is  of  God,  made  unto  us  sanctification," 
as  well  as  justification,  agreeably  to  what  he 
taught  as  a  Prophet,  and  to  what  he  did  as  a 
Priest,  and  to  what  he  demands  as  a  King  ;  and 
not  contrary  to  all  or  any  of  these  offices.  We 
cannot  hide  from  ourselves  the  fact,  that  he 
teaches  us  to  cut  off  and  cast  away  besotting 
sins,  lest  we  ourselves  should  be  cast  into  hell 
fire  ;  that  he  died  to  save  us  from  our  sins,  and  to 
make  us  zealous  of  good  works  ;  that  lie  wiU  not, 
as  the  Uving  Vine,  nourish  any  branch  in  him, 
which  beareth  no  fruit  now,  nor  own  at  last  any 
workers  of  iniquity,  liowever  they  may  have  pro- 
phesied in  his  name,  or  eaten  and  drank  in  liis 
presence  here. 

Thus  it  is  according  to  the  sanctity  he  taught, 
and  atoned  to  secure,  that  we  look  to  Christ  as 
our  sanctification.  And  he  is  so !  O,  it  is  not 
little  nor  doubtful  benefit,  we  derive  from  him,  in 
this  respect.  He  relieves  us  from  no  duty,  and 
winks  at  no  sin  ;  but  he  does  what  is  infinitely 
better  for  us  :  he  gives  aU  the  motives,  by  which 
the  Spirit  sanctifies  us,  and  all  the  merit  which 
hides  our  imperfections.  Yes ;  it  is  his  love, 
which  the  Spirit  employs  to  make  sin  hateful  and 
holiness  beautiful,  in  our  estimation  ;  it  is  his 
cross,  by  which  the  Spirit  crucifies  us  unto  the 
world  and  the  world  unto  us  ;  it  is  his  example, 
that  the  Spirit  renders  authoritative  in  our  con- 
science and  inspiring  to  our  hearts  ;  it  is  his  pro- 
vidences, which  the  Spirit  makes  to  work  for  our 
good,  in  taking  away  and  preventing  sin ;  it  is  his 
presence  in  ordinances  and  afflictions,  which  the 
Spirit  employs  to  make  us  humble  and  watchful ; 
it  is  his  "  well  done,"  at  the  judgment-seat,  and 
the  prospect  of  being  for  ever  with  him  and  like 
him  in  heaven,  which  the  Spirit  renders  a  purify- 
ing hope.  Thus,  whilst  the  Spirit  is  our  sancti- 
fier,  Christ  himself  is  emphatically  our  sanctifi- 
cation. 

There  is  one  manifestation  of  the  love  of  the 
Spirit  in  sanctifying,  which,  if  I  could  express  it 
as  clearly  as  I  feel  it  deeply,  I  should  present  a 
line  of  thought,  that  would  lay  hold  of  every  true 
Christian  it  came  near ;  I  refer  to  the  work  of  the 
Spirit,  in  sanctifying  by  afflictions.  He  is  not 
slow  nor  ashamed  to  make  them  work  together 
with  his  owTi  sacred  influence,  for  the  promotion 
of  our  holiness.  If  this  fact  do  not  strike  and 
astonish  you  at  once,  you  forget  that  afflictions 
are  chiefly  chastisements  for  grieving  the  Spirit. 
It  is  because  he  has  been  resisted  or  evaded,  that 
God  takes  up  the  rod  of  Providence,  to  correct 
what  we  would  not  allow  him  to  cure  by  grace. 
Now,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  should  not  leave  us 
comfortless  under  the  rod,  nor  leave  it  to  work  as 
it  can  upon  us,  even  after  we  have  quenched  much 
of  his  holy  rire,  and  stood  out  against  his  sweet 
influences,  and  almost  expelled  him  from  the  tem- 


ple of  our  hearts, — this  is  love  that  passeth  know- 
ledge. For,  remember,  if  left  to  ourselves  in  the 
furnace  of  affliction,  we  should  either  sink  or 
harden  to  a  certainty.  Yes  ;  but  for  liis  watchful 
eye,  and  mighty  hand,  we  should  either  "  despise 
the  chastening  of  the  Lord,  or  faint  when  we  are 
rebuked  of  him." 

You  do  not  know  much  about  real  affliction,  if 
you  do  not  see  his  wonderful  love,  in  this  conde- 
scension to  our  weakness  and  unvvorthiness.  You 
win  find  out,  however,  if  you  live,  that  you  have 
as  much  need  of  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to 
sanctify  afflictions,  as  to  sustain  and  soothe  under 
them.  Yes,  as  much  need  of  his  power  to  pre- 
vent them  from  liardening  your  heart  against 
God,  as  of  his  blessing  to  prevent  the  gospel 
from  becoming  to  you  "  the  savor  of  death  unto 
death." 

But  I  must  close  this  essay.  I  cannot  do  so, 
liowever,  without  imploring  you — to  number — to 
weigh — to  tell  yourself,  the  kind  and  degree  of 
sanctifying  influences,  which  the  Holy  Spirit  must 
put  forth  upon  your  heart  and  character,  before 
you  are  "meet  to  be  a  partaker  of  the  inheritance 
of  the  saints  in  light."  Why;  only  consider  liow 
much  he  must  do  in  you,  and  for  you,  even  before 
your  calling  and  election  be  sure  to  yourself! — 
And  now  think,  O  think  deeply,  what  he  must  do 
when  you  are  dying,  in  order  to  fit  you  for  any 
kind  of  an  entrance  into  the  everlasting  kingdom 
of  God,  of  holiness,  of  glory]  What  finishing 
touches  he  must  give  to  the  divine  image,  now  so 
faint  and  imperfect  on  your  soul '!  What  ripeness 
he  must  produce,  then  in  all  the  fruits  of  lioliness, 
now  so  unripe?  What  a  volume  of  holy  fire  ho 
must  throw  into  and  around  your  spirit,  in  order  to 
prepare  you  fully  to  meet  God — to  see  the  Lamb 
on  his  throne — to  mingle  with  the  general  assem- 
bly of  perfect  spirits — to  sustain  the  blaze  and 
weight  and  work  of  unveiled  immortality? — 
Quench  not,  vex  not,  grieve  not,  the  Holy  Spirit, 
at  your  peril. 


No.  XL 


THE    LOVE   OF   THE   SPIRIT   AS   A   KEMEMBRANCER. 

Had  not  the  Holy  Spirit  brought  "  all  things," 
said  by  the  Saviour,  to  the  remembrance  of  the 
evangelists,  neither  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  nor 
John,  could  have  written  the  gospels.  Either  of 
them,  no  doubt,  could  liave  written  much  of  what 
they  saw  and  heard,  during  their  intercourse  with 
Christ :  for  all  his  miracles  were  too  remarkable, 
to  be  forgotten  by  the  witnesses  of  them  ;  and 
many  of  his  sayings  too  striking,  to  be  lost  by  his 
regular  hearers.  He  who  spake  as  never  man 
spake,  was  thus  sure  to  be  remembered  as  never 
man  was  remembered,  especially  by  liis  disciples-. 
He  said,  however,  much  that  tliey  disliked,  and 
more  that  they  did  not  understand,  and  not  a  little 
which  one  hearing  could  hardly  fix,  to  the  letter, 
in  any  mind.  His  sermon  on  the  Mount  was  l)oth 
longer  and  more  sententious,  than  the  strongest 
memory  could  carry  away,  without  copious  notes, 
and  his  chief  arguments  with  the  Scribes  and 


^10 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


Pharisees,  look  so  many  turns,  in  order  to  meet 
the  shifting  grounds  and  temper  of  his  opponents, 
that  their  effect,  rather  than  their  precise  form, 
must  have  been  the  chief  recollection  of  even  the 
most  attentive  listeners.  And  when  his  ministry 
became,  as  it  did  towards  its  close,  prophetic  as 
well  as  parabolical,  and  mysterious  as  well  as  so- 
lemn, his  precise  words  became,  of  course,  almost 
as  difficult  to  remember,  as  they  were  to  compre- 
hend. 

What  a  loss,  therefore  must  have  been  sustain- 
ed by  the  world  and  the  church,  had  not  the  Holy 
Spirit  so  loved  both,  as  to  bring  to  the  remem- 
brance of  the  disciples,  "whatsoever  things"  Jesus 
had  said  unto  them.  They  themselves  took  no 
notes  of  his  sermons  or  conversations,  at  the  time 
of  their  delivery.  What  they  seem  to  have  re- 
membered best,  was  not  what  was  most  interest- 
ing. All  that  has  proved  most  useful  and  consol- 
ing to  posterity,  in  the  gospels,  is  chiefly  what  the 
writers  disliked  or  misunderstood,  until  the  Spirit 
recalled  and  explained  it  to  them. 

I  know  that  it  was  never  intended  to  be  lost. 
The  Saviour's  gracious  words,  like  his  sacred 
body,  could  not  see  corruption,  however  they 
might  be  buried  for  a  time.  The  oblivion  of  me- 
mory was  as  impossible  as  llie  oblivion  of  the 
grave,  in  his  case.  StiU,  his  words,  like  his  body, 
were  "  quickened  by  the  Spirit."  He,  who 
brought  again  from  the  dead  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
himself,  brought  to  remembrance  the  truth  as  it  is 
in  Jesus,  just  as  it  had  been  spoken.  John  xiv.  26. 
"  The  Comforter,  which  is  the  Holy  Ghost,  whom 
the  Father  shall  send  in  my  name,  he  shall  teach 
you  all  things,  and  bring  all  things  to  your  remem- 
brance, whatsoever  I  have  said  unto  you." 

If  you  have  never  traced  the  love  of  the  Spirit 
in  this  resurrection  of  the  truth  from  the  grave  of 
forgetfulness,  you  have  not  seen  the  compass  nor 
the  point  of  the  Saviour's  often-repeated  com- 
mand, "  He  that  hath  an  ear,  let  him  hear  what 
the  Spirit  saith  unto  the  churches."  Rev.  ii.  17. 
The  Spirit  not  only  inspired  the  writers  of  the 
epistles  ;  he  also  inspired  the  writers  of  the  gos- 
pels ;  and  in  fact,  re-preached  to  them  all  they 
had  heard  from  the  lips  of  Christ.  Thus  the  New 
Testament  is  as  emphatically  the  word  of  the 
Spirit,  as  it  is  the  word  of  Christ :  and  as  strictly 
the  word  of  the  Father  as  of  both :  for  the  Son 
invariably  declared  throughout  all  his  ministry, 
"  The  words  I  speak  unto  you  are  not  mine,  but 
the  Father's  who  sent  me."  There  is,  therefore, 
a  threefold  inspiration  upon  the  gospels.  They  are 
the  word  of  the  Father  to  the  Son,  and  the  word 
of  the  Son  and  of  the  Spirit  to  the  evangelists  ; 
and  thus  the  word  of  God  to  the  churches  and  the 
world. 

You  see  now  how  much  the  Spirit  had  to  do, 
when  the  ministry  of  Christ  closed  on  earth. 
That  ministry  was  conducted  thus  :  "  I  have  not 
spoken  of  myself ;  but  the  Father  who  sent  me, 
he  gave  me  a  commandment,  what  I  should  say, 
and  what  I  should  speak.  And  I  know  that  his 
commandment  is  Life  Everlasting  :  whatsoever  I 
speak,  therefore,  even  as  the  Father  said  unto  me, 
so  I  speak."  John  .\ii.  49.  Such  being  the  case, 
that  the  word  of  Christ  was  the  word  of  God,  and 
all  of  it  the  word  of  Eternal  Life,  how  important 
that  none  of  it  should  be  lost !    But,  what  could 


have  preserved  it,  had  not  the  Spirit  treasured  it 
up,  and  repeated  it  to  the  apostles  1  You  remem- 
ber that  the  wayside  hearers  lost  it ;  that  it  was 
choked  by  the  thorny  ground  hearers;  that  it 
withered  away  amongst  the  stony  ground  hearers ; 
and  that  even  the  true  disciples,  who  were  the 
good  ground,  retained  it  but  very  unequally,  and 
not  impartially.  Much  of  the  good  seed  must, 
therefore,  have  been  irrecoverably  lost,  had  not 
the  Spirit  gathered  it  all  up  as  it  fell,  and  after- 
wards re-sown  it  just  as  it  was  given. 

I  have  sometimes,  in  order  to  endear  the  gospel 
to  myself,  ventured  to  imagine,  what  kind  of  a 
New  Testament  we  should  have  had,  if  the  evan- 
gelists had  been  left  to  the  mere  resources  of  their 
own  memory,  and  to  the  guidance  of  their  own 
taste  and  discretion,  when  Christ  left  the  world. 
And  even  in  that  case,  I  could  not  but  see,  that  it 
would  have  been  a  wonderful  book  !  well  worth 
reading,  preserving,  and  circulating  throughout 
the  world,  until  the  end  of  time.  Yes ;  had  it 
contained  nothing  but  just  what  the  friends  of 
Christ  recollected,  by  dint  of  memory,  it  would 
still  have  been  the  best  book  in  the  world,  and 
worth  all  that  ever  has  been  or  will  be  expended, 
upon  the  perfect  canon.  It  would,  however,  have 
been  a  very  different  book,  in  many  things  of  very 
great  importance.  For  none  of  the  apostles  liked 
or  understood  the  spirituality  of  Christ's  kingdom, 
or  the  atoning  design  of  his  sufferings  and  death, 
until  these  truths  were  again  revealed  to  them  by 
the  Spirit.  None  of  them  had  much  love  to  chil- 
dren, nor  any  warmth  of  sympathy  for  the  Gen- 
tiles, until  the  day  of  P'^ntecost.  I  will  not  spe- 
cify what,  I  suspect,  they  would  most  likely  have 
passed  by  or  forgotten  :  but  I  see  enough  of  both 
to  make  me  thankful,  that  they  had  to  speak  and 
write  "  as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utterance,"  and 
"  in  the  words  which  the  Holy  Ghost  teacheth." 
But  for  this,  we  might  not  have  known,  concern- 
ing little  children,  that  "  of  such  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  ;"  nor  concerning  those  who  only  hun- 
ger and  thirst  after  righteousness,  that  "  they  shall 
be  filled  ;"  nor  concerning  all  manner  of  sin  and 
blasphemy,  that  "it  shall  be  forgiven;"  nor  con- 
cerning the  love  of  God  in  the  gift  of  his  Son,  that 
it  was  love  to  the  world,  as  weU  as  to  the  Jewish 
nation. 

In  throwing  out  these  hints,  I  do  not  mean  to 
insinuate  that  the  evangelists,  if  uninspired,  would 
have  kept  back  any  thing  they  deemed  useful  to 
the  world.  I  think  they  would  have  meant  well, 
even  when  they  judged  iU.  They  were,  however, 
men  of  "  lil<e  passions"  v/ith  ourselves ;  and, 
therefore,  had  they  not  written  by  inspiration,  they 
might  have  been  tempted  to  withhold  such  parts 
of  their  recollections,  as  clashed  with  their  natu- 
ral or  national  prejudices.  But  all  this,  the  love 
of  the  Spirit  to  them  and  us,  prevented.  He  de- 
livered anew  to  them,  and  through  them  to  us,  the 
gospel  of  the  great  salvation,  just  "  as  it  began  to 
be  spoken  by  the  Lord."  Yes  :  just  as  the  Sa- 
viour himself  had  delivered  it ;  now  in  set  ser- 
mons, and  anon  in  passing  hints;  now  in  parables, 
and  anon  in  promises  ;  now  in  explanations  of  the 
Old  Testament,  and  anon  in  new  invitations  of 
mercy  and  new  commandments  of  love.  For  it 
was  not  an  outline,  nor  a  digest,  nor  the  substance 
of  what  Christ  had  said,  nor  selections  of  the  best 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


37 


parts  of  his  preaching  and  conversations ;  but 
«  whatsoever"  he  had  said  to  the  disciples,  that  the 
Spirit  brought  to  their  remembrance,  and  opened 
to  their  understanding. 

Now,  to  say  nothing  of  the  light  which  this  fact 
throws  upon  the  perfection  of  the  gospels,  see 
how  it  reveals  the  love  of  the  Spirit  to  the  world 
and  the  church.  He  refused  not,  grudged  not, 
hesitated  not,  to  repeat  all  that  Christ  had  said, 
to  encourage  the  guiltiest,  or  to  cheer  the  timid, 
or  to  win  the  worst.  Nothing  was  too  good,  too 
kind,  or  too  strong  for  liim  to  sanction.  He  kept 
back  nothing,  weakened  nothing,  shaded  nothing, 
of  all  the  goodness  which  the  Saviour  had  ever 
uttered  to  friends  or  enemies.  Thus  we  have  the 
gospel,  the  whole  gospel,  and  nothing  but  the  gos- 
pel, from  the  lips  of  the  Spirit,  as  well  as  from  the 
lips  of  the  Son  and  the  Father.  What  a  glorious 
confirmation,  as  well  as  illustration,  we  thus  liave 
of  the  perfect  concurrence  and  equal  cordiality  of 
the  Godhead,  in  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  ! 
Tliis  fact  proves  that  the  Trinity  are  as  much  one 
in  heart,  as  they  are  one  in  essence,  and  each 
person  of  the  Godhead  as  truly  "love"  as  "light." 

You  have  often  read  and  repeated  various  great 
and  precious  promises,  as  the  word  of  the  Father, 
and  as  the  word  of  the  Son,  and  marked  with  de- 
hght  how  they  prove  their  love.  Well ;  just  ob- 
serve now,  and  remember  m  future,  how  they 
prove  the  love  of  the  Spirit  also.  They  came 
from  his  heart  and  lips,  too  ;  and  that  when,  hu- 
manly speaking,  many  of  them  might  have  been 
lost  for  ever,  had  he  not  repubhshed  them  to  the 
apostles.  For  he  thus  sanctioned  them  all,  as  well 
as  preserved  them. 

Tliis  is  the  point  to  which  I  would  now  fix  your 
attention.  The  holiness  of  the  Spu-it  did  not 
lead  him  to  hold  back,  or  to  qualify,  the  pardons 
offered  by  Christ  to  the  vilest  and  the  most  hope- 
less. The  SOVEREIGNTY  of  the  Spirit  did  not  pre- 
vent him  from  repeating  the  invitations  of  Christ, 
in  all  their  original  width,  warmth,  and  freeness. 
The  SUPREMACY  of  the  Spirit,  or  that  entire  de- 
pendance  of  all  means  upon  his  agency,  (without 
which  we  can  neither  will  nor  do  what  is  com- 
manded,) did  not  lead  him  to  alter  one  word  of  the 
Saviour's  commands  to  repent,  and  believe  the 
gospel.  No  ;  although  all  the  power  of  doing  so 
depended  upon  himself,  he  made  the  apostles  re- 
member and  write  on  the  subject  of  human  duty, 
exactly  as  Christ  had  spoken  to  the  world  ;  taking 
care  to  bind  upon  all  men,  every  where,  the  per- 
sonal obligation, — "  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait 
gate;"  "Labor  for  that  meat  which  endureth 
unto  everlasting  life  ;"  "  Seek,  and  ye  shall  find  ; 
knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you  ;" 
"  Repent,  or  ye  shall  perish."  In  like  manner, 
the  MAJESTY  of  the  Spirit  did  not  prevent  him 
fro)n  reminding  the  evangelists,  of  the  most  con- 
descending and  tender  things  which  Jesus  had 
said  to  the  despairing  and  the  despised.  No  ;  the 
Eternal  Sphit,  like  the  High  and  Lofty  One,  who 
inhabiteth  eternity,  was  not  ashamed  of  the  con- 
trite or  the  trembling ;  but  preserved  for  them, 
and  transmitted  to  them,  all  that  the  friend  of  sin- 
ners had  ever  said  to  the  weary  or  heavy  laden  ; 
to  pubhcana  or  harlots  ;  to  prodigals,  malefactors, 
or  outcasts  !  He  took  care  to  preserve  even  the 
Saviour's  dying  prayer  for  his  murderers.     Thus 


the  Holy  Spirit  identified  liimself,  heart  and  hand, 
with  "  all  things  whatsoever,"  which  Jesus  had 
spoken.  He  did  as  much  justice  to  the  doctrine 
of  the  Son,  as  the  Son  did  to  the  doctrine  of  the 
Father.  Whatever  Christ  heard  from  the  Father, 
he  fully  declared  ;  and  whatever  Christ  declared, 
the  Spirit  faithfully  preserved. 

You  cannot  be  uninterested  nor  unafTected  by 
these  facts.  They  explain  and  justify  the  asser- 
tion of  Christ,  that  the  Spirit  would  be  "  another 
comforter."  This,  however,  is  not  all  that  I  want 
to  fix  your  attention  upon,  in  the  office  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  as  a  remembrancer.  Recollect  how  little 
was  known,  even  m  Judea,  concerning  the  Spirit. 
His  existence  and  personality  were  far  from  being 
unknown  :  but,  except  in  reference  to  prophecij, 
his  office  and  operations  were  very  little  under- 
stood, when  the  ministry  of  Christ  began.  Re- 
member also,  how  httle  the  apostles  themselves 
comprehended  the  work  of  the  Spirit.  The  Saviour 
had  actually  to  begin  his  doctrine  on  this  subject, 
by  speaking  only  of  "  water  and  the  Spirit ;"  not 
of  the  "  Truth"  and  the  Spu-it ;  so  little  did  they 
connect  the  Spirit  with  means.  He  had,  there- 
fore, to  put  him  forward,  almost  apart  from  means, 
in  the  first  instance,  before  he  could  gain  any 
thing  hke  a  fair  attention  to  the  agency  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  In  like  manner,  at  the  close  of  his 
muristry,  or  in  his  last  great  intercessory  prayer, 
Jesus  had  just  to  reverse  this  order ;  and,  that  the 
instrumentality  of  truth  might  not  seem  to  be  dis- 
placed by  the  prommence  formerly  given  to  the 
agency  of  the  Spirit,  he  said  nothing  about  him 
when  praying  for  the  sanctification  and  preserva- 
tion of  the  disciples  ;  but  pleaded  thus,  "  Sanctify 
them  by  thy  truth,  thy  word  is  truth."  John  xvii. 
17.  Now  our  tendency  to  run  to  extremes  on 
this  subject,  is  just  as  great  as  theirs  was  at  first. 
The  natural  bent  of  the  human  mind  is,  to  make 
means  every  thing,  and  the  Spirit  nothing ;  and 
the  artificialhent  of  it  is,  to  make  the  Spirit  every 
thing,  and  means  nothing.  Accordingly,  to  pre- 
vent both  extremes,  tlie  Holy  Spirit  left  the  mat- 
ter just  as  the  Saviour  placed  it.  He  added  no- 
thmg  to  the  prayer,  "  Sanctify  them  by  thy  truth  ;" 
and  he  took  nothing  away  from  the  assertion,  "ye 
must  be  born  again  of  the  Spirit."  He  neither 
spoke  of  liimself  at  all  where  Christ  had  said 
nothing,  nor  spoke  less  concerning  himself,  where 
Christ  had  said  much.  The  reason  is  obvious, 
and  full  of  love  ;  namely,  that  we  may  use  ap- 
pointed means  as  diligently  as  if  salvation  depend- 
ed upon  the  right  use  of  them,  and  yet  depend 
upon  the  Spirit  as  simply  and  entirely  as  if  there 
were  no  means  used,  or  none  to  use. 

In  like  manner,  the  Spirit  took  no  exception  to 
any  thing,  however  strong,  which  the  Saviour  had 
ever  said  of  the  fulness  or  the  freeness  of  divine 
influence.  Jesus  had  said,  "  If  ye  being  evil 
know  how  to  give  good  things  unto  your  children, 
how  much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Fatlier  give 
the  Holy  Spirit  unto  them  that  ask  him?"  and 
that  Spirit  repeated  this  promise  exactly  as  Christ 
gave  it,  without  demur  or  limitation  ;  thus  pledg- 
ing himself  to  be  the  "  free  Spirit,"  which  Christ 
had  said.  So  also,  he  took  no  exception  to  thp 
work  which  Christ  pledged  him,  although  the 
world  was  its  field,  and  the  end  of  time  its  period. 
JesuB  had  said,  "  He  shall  convince  the  world  of 


38 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT- 


sin,  and  of  righteousness,  and  of  judgment ;"  and 
the  Spirit  put  this  promise  in  writing,  as  openly 
and  willingly  as  Christ  put  it  into  words  ;  thus 
undertaking  to  be  the  illuminator  of  the  world  as 
fully  as  Christ  was  the  Saviour  of  the  world. 
And  not  less  willingly  did  he  remind  the  apostles 
of  the  promise,  that  "  He  shall  abide  for  ever"  in 
the  church.  He  sanctioned  and  sealed  that  pledge 
too,  although  he  foresaw  all  the  labor  it  would  in- 
volve, and  all  the  provocation  he  would  have  to 
endure.  His  majesty  took  no  offence  at  the 
weakness  or  the  unworthiness  of  the  myriads  he 
had  to  teach ;  nor  his  purity,  at  the  vileness  of 
those  he  had  to  sanctify ;  nor  his  patience,  at  the 
waywardness  of  those  he  had  to  guide  ;  nor  his 
independence,  at  the  poverty  of  those  he  liad  to 
console.  In  a  word,  like  the  Saviour,  the  Spi- 
rit came,  "  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  mi- 
nister." 

The  epistles  of  the  New  Testament  form  an- 
other illustration  and  proof  of  the  love  of  the  Spi- 
rit. In  them,  he  as  faithfully  taught  the  writers 
"  aU  things,"  as  in  the  gospels  he  had  brought 
"  all  things"  to  their  "  remembrance."  In  the 
latter  he  led  them  back  to  "  all  truth ;"  and  in  the 
former  led  them  "into  all  truth." 

My  limits  will  not  allow  me  to  trace,  through- 
out the  epistles,  the  fubiess  nor  the  frequency 
with  which  he  expanded  and  explained  "  the  truth 
as  it  is  in  Jesus."  And  it  is  not  necessary  to  do 
so.  You  can  see  at  a  glance,  that  whilst  he  ad- 
hered to  the  very  letter  of  all  that  Christ  taught 
and  did,  he  also  brought  out  the  spirit  of  the  whole, 
in  new  forms  of  argument  and  appeal,  of  power 
and  glory,  which  set  all  the  Saviour's  "  apples  of 
gold,  in  pictures  of  silver." 

The  experimental  design  of  this  little  treatise 
requires  now,  that  the  office  of  the  Spirit  as  a 
remembrancer,  be  traced  in  the  well  known  fact, 
that  he  still  suggests  and  appHes  the  things  of 
Christ  unto  the  mind.  "  He  shall  take  of  mine," 
said  the  Saviour,  "  and  show  it  unto  you."  This 
he  did  to  the  apostles  ;  and  the  gospels  were  the 
first  fruits,  and  the  epistles  the  full  harvest  of  his 
revealing  love.  He  did  not,  however,  cease  to 
suggest  nor  to  apply  the  truth,  when  he  closed 
the  canon  of  Scripture.  No  ;  he  closed  the  canon, 
to  open  the  heart  to  understand  and  enjoy  it. 
Accordingly,  every  Christian  recollects  well,  many 
timely  and  useful  suggestions  of  both  promises 
and  warnings,  which,  if  they  had  not  been  brought 
to  his  remembrance  by  the  Spirit,  he  must  have 
sunk  under  trials  or  fallen  before  strong  tempta- 
tions. How  true  it  is,  that  "when  the  enemy 
Cometh  in  as  a  flood,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  lifts 
up  a  standard  against  him  !"  That  repelling  and 
protecting  standard  is  never  a  new  truth,  in  the 
sense  of  revelation  ;  but,  in  the  sense  of  applica- 
tion, it  is,  although  brought  from  the  old  armory, 
as  new  to  the  mind,  as  if  it  were  created  at  the 
moment.  For  then,  we  see  in  some  promise  what 
we  never  saw  before.  It  suits  and  soothes  us, 
just  as  if  it  had  been  made  for  no  other  purpose 
or  person.  It  takes  a  place  in,  and  exercises  a 
power  over,  the  mind,  which  could  hardly  be 
greater,  were  it  a  direct  communication  from  hea- 
ven, or  an  entirely  new  gift  from  the  Spirit.  I  do 
not  wonder,  whoever  else  does,  that  such  timely 
and  tender  applications  of  suitable  promises,  have 


been  mistaken  for  revelations.  This  was  a  mis- 
take :  but  it  is  no  mistake,  to  regard  that  applica- 
tion as  the  direct  and  immediate  work  of  the  Spi- 
rit. There  is  new  loorli,  although  only  the  old 
word. 

I  have  not  a  little  sympathy  even  with  the  more 
questionable  experience,  which  speaks  of — '■'■get- 
ting a  promise" — lighting  upon  a  promise — hav- 
ing a  promise  wonderfully  borjie  in  upon  the  mind." 
When  the  promise  itself,  and  not  the  manner  of 
obtaining  it,  is  the  source  of  comfort,  I  see  no 
harm  nor  weakness  in  ascribing  to  the  Spirit,  the 
timing  of  its  application.  Getting  hold  of  a  pro- 
mise at  a  critical  moment,  is  no  small  blessing. 
In  the  case  of  those  who  have  but  httle  knovi^- 
ledge,  or  weak  faculties,  it  is  a  very  great  bless- 
ing. Yes  ;  and  even  those  who  are  mightiest  in 
the  Scriptures,  and  strongest  in  mind,  are  glad  at 
times  to  plead  before  God,  like  David,  "  the  word 
in  season,"  upon  which  God  had  "  caused  them 
to  hope,"  in  the  day  of  former  calamity  or  dark- 
ness. 

I  am  fully  aware  that  the  Spirit  has  often  been 
dishonored  by  having  ascribed  to  him,  visionary 
and  crude  applications  of  insulated  passages  of 
Scripture.  He  applies  nothing  but  the  meaning 
or  the  sense  of  the  word ;  and  that,  only  in  its 
holy  design.  He  whispers  no  sweet  promise  in 
the  ear  of  the  disobedient  or  the  backshding,  ex- 
cept to  remind  them,  that  they  dare  not  appro- 
priate it  to  themselves.  He  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  comforts  which  those  get  from  "dark 
sayings,"  who  refuse  to  take  comfort  from  the 
plain  glad  tidings  of  the  gospel.  It  is  an  evil  spi- 
rit, not  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  leads  into  fanciful 
interpretations  of  Jewish  history  or  ceremony, 
which  the  apostles  have  not  spiritualized. 

In  like  manner,  it  may  be  laid  down  as  a  univer- 
sal maxim  in  the  teaching  of  the  Spirit,  that  he 
never  stops  at  one  lesson.  Whenever,  therefore, 
any  person  takes  up  with  one  promise,  suddenly 
or  signally  brought  home  to  him,  and  then  rests 
his  hope  of  pardon  upon  that  promise,  to  the  ne- 
glect of  all  other  truth,  it  is  quite  certain  that  the 
Spirit  of  truth  did  not  apply  the  comfort :  for  he 
leads  into  all  truth,  whoever  he  leads.  This,  in- 
deed, he  does  gradually  in  almost  all  cases  ;  but 
in  no  case  does  he  begin  the  lesson  which  does 
not  go  on,  or  which  is  not  followed  up  by  others. 
But  whilst  I  readily  allow  and  proclaim,  that  they 
are  all  duping,  and  tlius  ruining  their  souls,  who 
are  satisfied  with  having  had  a  promise  brought 
home  to  them  at  one  time,  whilst  ever  since  they 
have  paid  no  attention  to  the  Scriptures,  and  but 
little  to  personal  religion,  I  must  contend  for  the 
experimental  fact,  that  the  Spirit  does,  from  time 
to  time,  open  and  apply  the  Scriptures  to  the 
emergencies  of  the  divine  light,  and  according  to 
the  wants  of  the  prayerful.  A  standing  proof  of 
this  occurs  in  the  sanctuary  from  Sabbath  to 
Sabbath.  It  is  always  the  case,  that  experimen- 
tal sermons  seem  to  some  of  the  audience,  actu- 
ally made  for  them  ;  and  as  much  to  the  point,  as 
if  "the  man  of  God"  had  heard  their  family  con- 
versation in  their  secret  prayers,  in  the  morning. 
He,  of  course,  laicw  nothing  of  either ;  but  the 
Spirit,  who  led  them  to  desire  and  pray  for  a  word 
in  season,  led  liim  to  the  word  they  wanted. 

There  are  only  two  things  farther,  which  my 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


39 


fepace  will  allow  me  to  hint  at.  The  first  is,  that 
t  would  be  a  sad  abuse  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit, 
to  depend  on  his  suggestions,  to  the  neglect  of 
searching  the  Scriptures,  and  treasuring  up  the 
word  of  Christ  in  our  hearts.  Those  who  neglect 
this  duty,  will  not  find  the  Spirit  to  be  their  re- 
membrancer for  comfort,  in  the  day  of  trouble. 
He  will  not  supersede  the  use  of  the  Bible  by 
suggesting  any  thing,  but  warnings,  to  them  who 
do  not  use  it ;  for  he  is  tlie  Spirit  of  truth,  not  of 
impulse  ;  and  only  "  the  Spirit  of  wisdom,"  to 
those  who  honor  him  as  "  the  Spirit  of  revela- 
tion." 

The  other  hint  is,  (and  it  might  be  e.xpanded  to 
a  volume,)  that  we  should  find  it  almost  as  useful 
to  go  over  the  New  Testament,  looking  for  the 
mind  of  the  Spirit,  as  the  apostles  found  it  to  lis- 
ten to  the  Spirit,  when  they  wrote  from  his  dicta- 
tion. How  differently  the  words  of  Christ  sound- 
ed to  them,  when  the  Holy  Ghost  repeated  and 
explained  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  !  How  often 
they  must  have  said,  whilst  hearing  the  Spirit, 
"  Hoio  foolish  and  ignorant  loas  /,  when  I  first 
heard  these  wonderful  things  from  tlie  lips  of 
Christ !" 

Why  should  you  not  go  over  your  Testament 
again,  marking,  from  page  to  page,  the  new  light 
and  lovehness,  which  you  now  see,  in  parts  that 
once  made  no  impression  upon  you  ?  Why  not 
number  and  review  every  part,  which  you  have 
found  experimentally  true  and  sweet  ?  Do  mark 
in  the  margin  of  your  closet  or  family  Bible,  every 
passage  which  the  Spirit  has  ever  shone  upon. 
You  win  thus  increase  your  own  evidences  of  hav- 
ing been  led  by  the  Spirit ;  and  confirm  your  con- 
fidence in  his  teacliing;  and  meet  his  love  to 
yourself  by  more  ardent  love  to  him  than  you 
have  yet  cultivated.  And  all  this,  he  would  soon 
and  amply  repay,  by  witnessing  to  and  sealing  his 
own  work  on  your  soul. 


No.  xn. 


THE   LOVE   OF   THE  SPIRIT   AS   A  COMFORTER. 

When  the  Saviour  promised  to  send  the  Spirit  as 
a  comforter,  he  called  him,  "  another  Comforter  ;" 
not  a  different  one  to  what  he  himself  had  been. 
It  is  byoverlooking  this  fact,  or  by  not  consider- 
ing what  kind  of  a  comforter  tlie  Saviour  himself 
was  whilst  in  the  world,  that  so  many  of  the  seri- 
ous and  the  suffering  are  uncomfortable.  They 
look  for  more,  or  for  another  kind  of  comfort,  than 
was  promised  ;  and,  not  finding  it,  they  are  disap- 
pointed, and  thus  tempted  to  reckon  the  consola- 
tions of  the  Spirit  "few or  small."  This  is  a  sad 
mistake  !  The  Spirit  is  always,  in  the  case  of 
all  beUevers,  just  such  a  comforter  as  Christ  him- 
self was,  when  he  comforted  his  disciples. 

Look  at  this  fact.  What  kind  of  a  comforter 
was  the  Saviour  to  his  friends,  whilst  he  remained 
with  them  on  earth  f  Not  a  "  miserable"  com- 
forter, certainly  :  but  still,  as  cautious  as  he  was 
kind  ;  as  prudent  as  he  was  tender,  he  comforted 
his  disciples,  just  as  he  taught  them  : — as  they 
could  bear  it,  and  not  always  as  they  wished  for 
tt.    Accordingly,  when  they  would  have  called 


to 


CJti) 


down  "fire  firom  heaven,"  to  punish  their  enemies, 
he  not  only  refused  their  wish,  but  also  reproved 
their  spirit  thus,  "  Ye  know  not  what  manner  of 
spirit  ye  are  of."  Luke  ix.  55.  In  like  manner, 
when  they  gave  way  to  an  ambitious  spirit,  and 
strove  which  of  theiu  sliould  be  greatest  in  his 
kingdom,  Jesus  rebuked  them  both  by  words  and 
significant  actions.  All  this,  and  much  more,  lie 
did  and  said,  whenever  they  fell  into  wrong  tem- 
pers or  habits.  But,  was  he  not  tlieir  comforter, 
notwithstanding  all  the  reproofs  and  warnings  lie 
thus  gave  them  from  time  to  time !  They  tliem- 
selves  felt  that  he  was  so,  in  the  best  sense :  a 
comforter,  who  neither  spoiled  thinn  by  indul- 
gence, nor  disappointed  them  by  caprice.  Peter, 
no  doubt,  felt  very  uncomfortable  at  first,  when 
Christ  said  to  him,  "Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan, 
for  thou  savorest  not  the  tilings  which  be  of  God ;" 
and  equally  so,  when  told  that  he  would  deny  his 
Lord.  The  mother  of  Zebedee's  children,  and 
her  two  sons  also,  thought  it  any  thing  but  com- 
forting theni,  when  Jesus  refused  to  maternal  so- 
licitude, the  right  and  left  hand  seats  in  his  king- 
dom. Martha,  too,  foimd  him  any  thing  but  the 
kind  of  comforter  she  wished  and  expected,  when 
she  was  absorbed,  beyond  all  reason  and  neces- 
sity, with  worldly  tilings.  But  still,  none  of  these 
chastised  children,  thought  his  consolations  few 
or  small  upon  the  whole.  Accordingly,  "  sorrow 
filled"  all  their  hearts,  when  Jesus  began  to  ex- 
plain to  them  his  approaching  return  to  heaven. 
The  sad  prospect  of  losing  his  endeared  company 
even  for  a  time,  soon  revealed  to  them,  what  a 
comforter  he  had  always  been  ! 

Now  it  was  whilst  they  thus  remembered,  and 
appreciated,  and  felt,  both  the  kind  and  tlie  de- 
gree of  the  comfort  they  had  enjoyed  for  years, 
that  he  promised  the  Spirit  as  "  another  comfort- 
er," or  just  such  another  friend  as  he  himself  had 
been  ;  a  very  present  help  in  all  real  trouble  :  a 
very  gentle  reprover  of  all  imaginary  fears ;  and  a 
very  faithful  monitor  against  whatever  was  sinful 
in  conduct  or  temper.  You  thus  see,  that  they 
could  not  mistake  his  meaning.  It  must  have 
been  as  obvious  to  them,  from  their  own  experi- 
ence of  his  comforts,  as  his  promise  of  "  Peace" 
was  to  them,  when  he  qualified  the  words,  "  Peace 
I  leave  with  you,"  by  the  additional  clause,  "  My 
peace  give  I  unto  you ;  let  not  your  heart  be  trou- 
bled, neither  let  it  be  afraid."  This  timely  appeal 
to  his  own  peace,  was  intended  to  prevent  all  vi- 
sionary dreams  of  earthly  ease.  The  disciples 
knew  well  what  his  peace  had  been  !  Not  peace 
arising  from  the  absence  of  trials  or  temptations ; 
but  peace  under  them,  and  notwithstanding  them 
all.  And  equally  well  did  they  know  what  kind 
of  a  comforter  the  Saviour  had  been  :  and  thus 
they  were  prepared  to  look  only  for  similar  com- 
fort, when  the  Spirit  was  given. 

You  now  see  at  a  glance,  that  Peter  would  not 
expect  the  Holy  Ghost  to  comfort  him,  when  he 
gave  way  to  his  fiery  and  rash  temper ;  nor  Mar- 
tha, when  she  cumbered  herself  unduly  witii  bus- 
tle ;  nor  James  and  John,  if  they  became  ambi- 
tious again  ;  nor  any  of  them  expect  the  cheer- 
ing and  seahng  comforts  of  the  Spirit,  apart  from 
walking  in  the  Spirit.  In  a  word,  they  would  all 
lay  their  accoimt,  with  finding  the  Holy  Spirit  of 
God  just  Buch  a  comforter,  as  they  had  found,  by 


40 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


experience,  the  Holy  Son  of  God  to  be ;  full  of 
grace  and  truth :  but  abounding  in  all  "  wisdom 
and  prudence,"  in  the  communication  of  both. 

You  see  the  bearing  of  these  facts,  as  argu- 
ments, upon  ourselves.  You  will  think  twice  now, 
before  you  speak  once  again,  about  not  being  com- 
forted by  the  Spirit,  as  you  wished  and  expected. 
We  have  had  less  comfort  than  we  looked  for,  no 
doubt ;  but  the  question  is,  would  the  Saviour,  liad 
he  been  present,  have  given  us  any  more,  under 
the  same  circumstances  ?  It  is  very  easy  to  say, 
and  it  is  only  too  true,  that  our  joy  has  not  been 
full,  nor  our  peace  lasting,  nor  even  our  hope  stea- 
dy: but  is  it  not  equally  true,  that  the  Saviour 
himself  would  have  left  our  comfort  just  at  this 
low  ebb,  had  we  treated  him  as  we  have  dealt  by 
the  Holy  Spirit  ? 

We  are  fast — you  see  !  Nor  can  we  extricate 
ourselves  from  the  grasp  of  this  general  principle, 
by  picturing  to  ourselves  how  differently  we  should 
have  acted  in  every  thing,  had  the  Saviour  been 
on  earth,  ever  since  we  professed  to  be  his  friends 
and  followers.  Such  fancies  are  mere  fictions. 
We  have  no  reason  to  suppose,  that  we  should 
have  acted  a  whit  better  than  his  first  disciples  did. 
The  probability  is,  that  we  should  have  fallen 
oftener  than  Peter,  and  aspired  more  than  Jolin, 
and  bustled  more  than  Martha. 

The  wonder  is,  you  see,  that  we  have  had  any 
comfort  from  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  not  that  we 
have  had  so  little  :  for  it  is  no  more  a  part  of  his 
office,  than  it  was  of  the  Saviour's  practice,  to 
comfort  at  all  hazards,  or  in  spite  of  all  circumstan- 
ces. I  mean,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  will  not  wink 
at  sin,  nor  connive  at  sloth,  nor  humor  caprice, 
nor  overlook  worldly-mindedness.  It  is  his  great 
object  to  cure  these  faults ;  and,  therefore,  he 
must  correct  us  for  them,  instead  of  consohng  us 
under  them.  And  this  is  true  kindness,  as  well 
as  real  prudence  !  For,  only  think  for  a  moment, 
what  imprudent  ministers — yea,  what  "  almost 
Christians,"  the  disciples  would  have  been,  had 
Christ  always  smiled  upon  them,  or  even  been 
silent,  when  they  acted  mconsistently !  They 
were  not  very  steady  nor  discreet,  until  the  day 
of  Pentecost,  notwithstanding  all  the  checks  and 
warnings  which  they  got:  and,  had  they  got  none, 
they  would  either  have  been  unfit  for  apostleship, 
or  they  would  have  had  to  "  tarry  at  Jerusalem" 
much  longer  than  they  did,  before  "  power  from 
on  high"  had  descended  upon  them. 

In  Idie  manner  it  would  be  any  thing  but  good 
for  us — it  would  be  very  bad  for  us, — were  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  consult  nothing  but  what  we  caU 
"  our  comfort."  We  mean  by  that,  happiness  in 
prayer :  times  of  refreshing  at  the  sacrament ; 
foretastes  of  heaven  in  the  sanctuary,  and  the 
prevalence  of  a  good  hope  through  grace  at  home  : 
but,  if  we  could  make  sure  of  all  this  comfort,  by 
merely  going  to  the  closet  and  the  sanctuary ; 
and,  independent  of  our  conduct  and  spirit  during 
the  week,  we  should  soon  be  more  inconsistent 
than  we  are,  and  eventually  have  as  little  reUsh 
for  the  consolations  of  religion,  as  we  have  now 
for  some  of  its  self-denying  duties  and  sacrifices. 

The  historical  facts  we  have  thus  reviewed, 
furnish  us  with  a  simple  clew  to  both  the  kind  and 
degree  of  comfort  we  may  expect  from  the  Spirit. 
We  have  now,  in  order  to  judge  how  he  is  likely 


to  act  towards  us,  only  to  ask  ourselves — what 
would  the  Saviour  say  to  me, — how  would  he 
look  on  me, — how  would  he  treat  me,  were  he  to 
meet  me  by  the  way  whilst  I  am  out  in  the  world  ; 
or  to  look  in  upon  my  family  when  I  am  at  home  ; 
or  to  visit  me  when  I  am  sick  ;  or  to  track  me  be- 
tween the  closet  and  the  sanctuary  ]  We  see,  at 
a  glance,  how  Jesus  would  act,  and  speak,  and 
look,  in  any  and  every  case  we  can  suppose  our- 
selves to  be  !  We  feel,  instinctively,  how  his 
conduct,  and  manner,  and  aspect,  would  be  regu- 
lated in  every  instance,  by  our  general  character 
and  spirit  at  the  time.  We  can,  at  this  moment 
anticipate  and  tell,  almost  to  a  word,  what  Christ 
would  say  to  us,  were  he  to  take  us  aside,  and  tell 
us  what  he  thinks  of  us,  as  well  as  what  he  feels 
for  us.  I  will  not  follow  out  this  hint  for  you. 
You  can  do  that  for  yourself.  And  when  you  do 
so,  you  will,  I  am  sure,  say  of  your  Saviour,  "  He 
speaks  peace  to  his  people,  but  only  in  connection 
with  the  solemn  charge,  let  them  not  return  unto 
folly  ?"  Thus,  as  the  Son  said  of  himself,  "  He 
that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father  also," 
so  we  may  say  of  the  Spirit,  he  that  hath 
seen  the  Saviour,  hath  seen  the  Comforter  also  ; — 
seen  how  he  comforts,  whom  he  comforts,  and  why 
he  comforts. 

This  cannot  but  lead  you  into  "great  searchings 
of  heart ;"  and  these  may  lead  you  to  suspect, 
that  you  would  hear  nothing  from  the  lips,  and 
see  nothing  in  the  looks  of  the  Saviour  but  re- 
proof. It  would  not  be  so,  however,  if  the  fear 
humble  and  pain  your  heart.  "  A  bruised  reed  he 
will  not  break,  nor  quench  the  smoking  flax." 
He  would  be  faithful  to  your  conscience  ;  but  he 
would  be  equally  tender  to  your  spirit,  lest  it 
should  "fail  before  him."  He  would  rebuke  you 
sharply,  but  he  would  "  not  leave  you  comfort- 
less." 

Now,  just  such  has  the  love  of  the  Spirit  been 
to  us  all  along.  "  The  many  waters"  of  our  folly 
have  modified  and  varied  the  manifestations  of  his 
love  ;  but  they  have  "not  quenched  it."  He  has 
visited  our  transgressions  with  the  rod,  and  our 
iniquities  with  stripes  ;  but  his  loving-kindness  he 
has  not  taken  away  utterly,  nor  suffered  his  good 
work  in  us  to  fail  entirely.  It,  indeed,  has  been 
carried  on  by  him,  although  we  have  not  always 
carried  out  its  holy  designs.  But  now, — what  a 
motive — what  a  way — opens  before  us  for  increas- 
ing our  comforts !  What  "joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost," 
we  may  obtain  by  diligence  and  circumspection, 
now  that  we  see  clearly,  that  he  will  do  all  that 
the  Saviour  would  do  for  our  comfort  !  O,  our 
joy  might  be  fuU,  were  we  only  willing  to  make 
room  for  fulness  of  joy,  and  determined  to  throw 
aside  the  weights  which  impede  its  progress  I  for 
there  is  not  a  healing  leaf  of  ail  the  foliage,  nor  a 
ripe  fruit  of  all  the  vintage  of  the  tree  of  life, 
which  the  heavenly  dove  would  not  as  willingly 
bring  to  our  ark,  and  place  in  our  hand,  as  the 
dove  of  the  deluge  did  the  "  olive  leaf"  to  Noah. 
We  are  not  straitened  in  the  Comforter  !  But  he 
cannot  do  many  mighty  works  amongst  us,  be- 
cause of  our  unbelief  and  disobedience. 

But  whilst  thus  magnifying  the  comfort  which 
miglit  be  obtained,  I  do  not  forget  what  is  enjoyed, 
nor  feel  ashamed  to  submit  it  even  to  the  world, 
as  demonstration  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit.      I 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


41 


know  and  deplore,  that  the  sum  of  actual  comfort 
is  far  less  than  it  ought  to  be  :  but  I  know  too, 
that  the  world  can  produce  no  such  specimens  of 
happiness  as  the  church.  It  may  taunt  the  church 
with  the  sadness  of  some  penitents,  and  with  the 
suspense  of  others,  and  with  the  too  prevalent  fear 
of  death   amongst   all  but  dying  Christians ;  but 
the  saddest  of  all  the  saints  would  not  exchange 
places  or  prospects  with  the  happiest  man  of  the 
world  under  the  sun.     Many  of  them  are  in  the 
valley  of  humiliation,  and  not  a  few  of  them  in 
the  slough  of  despond,   and  none   of  them  alto- 
gether free  from  fightings  without  or  fears  within  : 
but  the  world  can  neither  buy  nor  bribe  them  out 
of  the  valley  of  tears,  by  the  wealth  or  the  gaiety 
of  its   high  places.     It   is   not  the  sad,  nor  the 
doubting,  nor  the  timid,  which  move  when  the 
world,  unfolding  her  treasures  and  trappings,  cries 
from    her   volcanic    mountain-tops,    "  Come   up  j 
hither,  and  be  happy."     No,  no  ;  those  who  dance  I 
to  her  piping,  are  those  only  whom  the  church  of  | 
Christ  stands  in  doubt  of ;  and  never  those  who  i 
suffer  from  the  doubts   and  fears   of  an  humble  i 
mind.     Like  the  women  of  GaUlee,   at  Calvary  ! 
and  the  sepulchre,  the  weeping  followers  of  Christ  I 
care  least  for  the  joy  of  the  world  ;  and  his  rejoic-  | 
ing  followers  despise  it.  i 

Be  not  deceived  by  appearances.     Christians 
are  not  so  uncomfortable  as  they  seem,  nor  as  | 
they  say  at  times.     They  do  not  falsify  nor  pre-  j 
tend  when  they  complain,  "  that  he  who  should  j 
comfort  them  is  far  away  from  them."     Ho  is  far  j 
away  at  the  time  ;  but  he  is  not  altogether  out  of 
sight,  nor  out  of  mind  :  for  even  then,  they  would 
not  give  up  their  faint  hope  of  his  return,  for  any 
or  all  the  comforts  which  life,  without  godliness, 
could  furnish. 

Thus  I  challenge  the  world,  not  from  where  I 
might  throw  down  the  gauntlet  of  defiance — from 
the  sunny  summits  and  the  shady  munitions  of  the 
Mount  of  Communion,  nor  from  the  Bethels, 
Pisgahs,  and  Ohvets,  which  form  "  the  borders  of 
Emmanuel's  land;"  but  from  the  valley  of  Achor 
and  Baca,  where  trouble  and  weeping  abound : 
and  even  there,  the  universal  sentiment  is, 

"  Were  I  possessor  of  the  earth, 
And  called  the  stars  my  own, 
Without  Thy  graces  and  Thyself, 
I  were  a  wretch  undone." 

You  will  now  judge  of  the  comfort  administered 
by  the  Comforter,  by  remembering  how  many,  in 
all  ages,  have  thought  it  enough  to  compensate 
them  for  all  they  could  do  and  suffer  ;  enough  to 
reconcile  them  to  poverty,  reproach,  and  persecu- 
tion ;  and  more  than  enough,  to  justify  them  in  re- 
fusing both  deliverance  and  rewards,  when  the 
world  tried  to  win  them  from  Christ. 

Never  forget  either,  when  it  is,  that  the  men  of 
the  world  question  and  despise  the  happiness  of  a 
Christian.  It  is  not  when  they  are  dying,  nor 
when  they  are  sick,  nor  when  they  are  in  adver- 
sity. Then,  they  feel  the  hollowness  of  earthly 
comfort,  and  complain  of  it,  in  tones  and  terms 
more  bitter  than  any  Christian  employs,  when  he 
exclaims,  "  All  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit." 
"  Trasli  ! — I  would  give  it  all  for  a  day  longer  to 
care  for  my  soul,"  said  a  rich  man  whom  I  knew, 


as  he  pointed  to  coffers  he  could  hardly  count. 
Yes ;  treasure  appears  trash  then,  and  tlio  wis- 
dom of  this  world  folly.  But  the  death-bed  of  a 
Christian  presents  no  such  extravagance.  If  he 
has  any  property,  he  can  look  at  it  without  shame, 
and  leave  it  without  cursing  it.  It  is  not  embit- 
tered to  his  family,  as  the  price  of  his  soul ;  nor, 
if  given  in  charity,  dreaded  by  the  church,  as  a 
price  for  his  salvation.  Thus  it  is  not  the  world's 
fault,  if  we  reckon  the  consolations  of  religion 
"  few  or  small."  The  ungodly  are  very  faulty  in 
caricaturing  a  Ufe  of  piety,  as  dull  and  dismal ; 
but  they  repair  that  fault,  so  far  as  we  are  concern- 
ed, by  a  death  more  dismal  than  the  fears  they 
once  ridiculed,  or  more  sad  than  the  seriousness 
which  ihey  called  melancholy. 

There  is  another  thing  which  ought  never  to  be 
lost  sight  of,  in  judging  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit, 
as  a  Comforter ;  he  comforts  the  church,  chiefly 
for  the  sake  of  the  world ;  or  that  she  may  do 
good  to  others.  This  is  the  explanation  which 
the  apostles  have  of  their  abundant  and  abiding 
comfort  from  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  was  given,  Paul 
says,  "  that  we  might  be  able  to  comfort  them 
who  are  in  any  trouble,  by  the  comfort  wherewith 
we  ourselves  are  comforted  of  God."  2  Cor.  i. 
4.  And  this  reason  is  the  Spirit's  rule,  in  the  case 
of  private  Clu-istians,  as  well  as  public  ministers. 
Accordingly,  we  are  solemnly  charged  to  "  comfort 
one  another,  and  especially  the  feeble-minded."  1 
Thess.  iv.  14, — the  faint-hearted,  or  dispirited. — 
These  must  not  be  neglected  when  they  fall  in 
our  way,  nor  when  we  can  find  access  to  them,  if 
we  ourselves  would  be  comfortable.  The  current 
maxim,  that  "  we  have  enough  to  do,  to  take  care 
of  ourselves,  without  attending  to  the  case  of 
others,"  is  both  false,  and  fearfully  true.  They 
have  enough  to  do,  and  not  a  little  to  suffer — who 
live  only  tor  themselves,  however  circumspectly 
they  five  :  for  even  circumspection  will  not  secure 
the  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  without  sympathy  and 
zeal  of  some  kind.  All  Cliristians  cannot  indeed, 
do  the  same  work  in  the  world  or  the  church ;  but 
all  can  show  the  same  goodness  to  both  in  some 
way.  "I  could  not  comfort  my  pious  people,"  said 
the  great  and  good  Andrew  Fuller,  "  however  or 
whatever  I  preached  to  them,  until  they  began  to 
care  for  the  souls  of  the  perishing  heathen." — 
And  now,  even  that  is  not  enough,  to  secure  the 
fellowship  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  an  abiding  Com- 
forter. Perishing  souls  at  liomc  as  well  as  abroad 
must  be  pitied,  and  prayed  for,  and  watched  over, 
if  we  would  have  our  own  souls  filled  with  joy  or 
peace  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  No  wonder  !  He  has 
a  world  to  convince  of  sin ;  a  world  to  convince  of 
righteousness  ;  a  world  to  convince  of  judgment; 
and  he  will  only  do  this  by  the  instrumentahty  of 
those  whom  he  has  made  wise  unto  salvation.— 
But  then,  what  comfort  there  might  be  in  all  the 
churches,  were  they  to  fall  in,  heart  and  hand, 
with  this  magnificent  mission  of  the  Spirit  to  the 
world.  There  would  soon  be  none  of  the  harps  of 
Zion  upon  the  willows  of  Babylon,  were  Zion 
determined  to  lengthen  her  cords  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth,  and  to  strengthen  her  stakes  amongst 
the  dwellings  of  the  poor  at  home.  In  reterence 
to  the  neglect  of  this,  as  well  as  of  other  duties,  the 
Spirit  saith  to  the  churches,  "  O,  that  my  people 
had  hearkened  unto  me :  I  would  have  fed  them 


42 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


with  the  finest  of  the  wlicat,  and  with  honey  out 
of  the  rock  would  I  have  satisfied  them."  Psa. 
Ixxxi.  16.  Yes  ;  the  chief  reason  why  he  does 
not  give  us  more  of  "  the  hidden  manna"  to  eat, 
and  why  he  withholds  the  "  white  stone"  of  adop- 
tion so  often,  is,  that  we  are  not  doing  the  first 
works  of  the  first  churches,  upon  a  scale  equal  to 
our  ability  and  opportunities. 

This  imperfect  essay  would  be  worse  than  in- 
complete, were  I  not  to  remind  you,  that  when 
the  "  time  of  need"  is  peculiar  and'  pressing,  then 
the  helping  grace  of  the  Spirit  is  both  rich  and 
free  grace.  At  no  time  are  we  sent  on  a  warfare 
at  our  own  charges  :  and  whenever  we  are  sent 
to  endure  a  great  fight  of  affliction,  the  Comforter 
gives  rewards  as  well  as  wages.  This,  as  I  have 
already  hinted  at  the  close  of  the  chapter  on  sanc- 
tification,  would  be  a  perfect  mystery  to  me — 
viewing,  as  I  do,  almost  all  afllictions  as  chastise- 
ment tor  sin,  as  well  as  trials  of  faith — did  I  not 
see  how  Christ  is  glorified  by  it.  But  the  eyes  of 
our  neighbors,  as  well  as  of  our  families,  are  upon 
us,  when  the  mighty  hand  of  God  thrusts  us  into 
the  furnace  ;  and,  therefore,  the  Spirit  takes  care 
to  sit  as  a  Comforter  as  well  as  a  refiner,  that 
those  who  judge  of  the  worth  of  piety  by  its  in- 
fluence in  the  day  of  calamity,  may  see  how  a 
Christian  can  sufier  without  murmuring,  or  die 
without  fear.  For  it  was  not  cliiefly  on  our  own 
account,  that  we  were  so  wonderfully  supported, 
at  times  we  can  never  forget.  It  answered  our 
purpose,  quite  as  well  as  if  all  the  mercy  of  the 
comfort  had  terminated  upon  ourselves  ;  but  like 
the  recovery  of  Epaphroditus,  which  was  mercy 
to  Paul  as  well  as  to  himself,  our  comfort  and 
composure  under  severe  afflictions,  were  sent  to 
teach  others,  as  well  as  to  help  us  in  time  of  need. 
How  this  fact  exalts  and  endears  to  a  Chris- 
tian, the  memory  of  his  "songs  in  the  night"  of 
calamity !  He  was  enabled  to  sing  the  Lord's 
8ong  then,  that  his  family  and  friends  might 
learn  it. 

If  this  essay  at  all  place  the  comforts  of  the 
Spirit  in  a  more  scriptural  light,  than  you  have 
thought  of  them,  you  will  do  well  to  review  the 
facts  of  it  again,  in  connection  with  the  Saviour's 
own  account  of  himself,  whilst  he  was  the  Com- 
forter of  his  disciples.  Now  he  summed  up  the 
results  of  the  office,  as  he  himself  discharged  it, 
in  his  last  prayer,  thus, — "  Whilst  I  was  with  them 
in  the  world,  I  Jtept  them."  John  xvii.  12.  Thus 
he  was  a  keeping  Comforter.  And  that,  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  emphatically  !  He  comforts,  so  as  to  keep 
us.  And,  in  a  world  like  this,  and  with  such 
hearts  as  ours,  and  whilst  all  the  powers  of  hell 
unite  with  both  to  seduce  and  ensnare,  what  a 
comfort  it  is  to  be  kept  from  apostacy  and  ruin  ! 
We  do  not  know  the  world,  nor  ourselves  well,  if 
keeping  grace  be  not  as  dear  to  us  as  converting 
grace.  Why  ;  if  we  were  not  kept  fi-om  falling 
into  error,  and  from  going  back  to  the  world,  and 
fiom  taking  up  with  the  pleasures  of  sin,  we 
should  soon  despise  the  pleasures  of  religion,  and 
be  both  unfit  and  unwiUing  to  be  comforted  by 
"any  consolation"  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus.  I  do 
not  think  lightly  of  comfort.  I  know  how  much 
it  is  wanted,  under  trials  and  temptations.  But  I 
know,  also,  of  something  which  is  more  wanted 
than  strong  consolation,  now  that  strong  opposi 


tion  to  piety  is  not  backed  by  civil  power,  nor 
cheered  on  by  popular  hostility. 

In  a  word  ;  I  shall  be  well  pleased,  and  eternally 
thankful,  to  have  had  a  keeping  Comforter,  whilst 
passing  tliroagh  a  world,  which  is  not  more  em- 
phatically "  a  valley  of  tears,"  than  it  is  a  vortex 
of  temptations  and  snares.  Comfort,  indeed  !  If 
J  had  always  been  comforted,  in  my  sense  of  the 
word,  I  should  have  made  shipwreck  of  faith  and 
of  a  good  conscience,  years  ago.  The  Holy  Spi- 
rit loves  us  too  weU,  to  cheer  or  soothe  us,  when 
wrong  tempers  or  habits  are  gaining  an  ascend- 
ency over  us.  The  prodigal's  father  did  not  go 
into  the  festive  halls  nor  the  swine-fields  of  the 
"  far  country,"  where  his  foolish  son  had  wander- 
ed. He  did  what  was  far  better  for  him,  welcome 
him  home  again,  when  he  came  to  his  senses. — 
Just  so,  the  Holy  Spirit  acts,  in  comforting  ;  he 
keeps  back  the  rmg,  and  the  robe,  and  the  shoes, 
and  the  fatted  calf,  until  his  prodigals  are  witliin 
sight  of  the  paternal  roof  again.  Be  it,  therefore, 
your  concern  and  mine  to  be  kept  from  ajjostacy 
and  wandering  ;  and  we  shall  never  be  left  com- 
fortless. The  comfort  of  being  kept  through  faith 
unto  salvation,  will  be  comfort  whilst 

"  Immortality  endures." 

"  I  was  kept  whilst  in  the  world,"  will  be  as  de- 
lightful a  reflection  in  heaven,  as  the  anticipation 
"  I  shall  be  kept  for  ever  pure  and  happy." 


No.  XIII. 

THE   LOVE   OF   THE   SPIRIT   A   PLEA   FOR   ZEAL. 

Whenever  the  claims  of  the  heathen,  or  of  the 
dark  places  of  the  earth  at  home,  are  to  be  pub- 
licly and  speciaUy  pleaded  in  the  pulpit,  or  on  the 
platform,  we  expect  to  hear  powerful  appeals  to 
the  love  of  Christ,  as  the  afl-constraining  motive 
to  zeal  and  liberality.  A  missionary  sermon,  of 
which  the  love  of  Christ  was  not  both  the  founda- 
tion and  the  topstone,  would  surprise  us,  as  weU 
as  grieve  us.  Yes ;  next  to  our  indignation,  would 
be  our  astonishment,  if  that  mighty  motive  were 
not  mightily  employed,  whenever  the  friends  of 
Christ  are  called  on  to  spread  or  sustain  the  gos- 
pel. We  should  say,  and  justly  too,  that  the  man 
who  could  advocate  missions  without  shielding 
and  enshrining  their  claims  with  the  glories  of 
redeeming  love,  had  read  his  Bible  to  little  pur- 
pose, and  knew  nothing  of  the  liigli-way  to  the 
hearts  of  Christians.  Were  he  a  very  ApoUosin 
eloquence,  we  should  not  hesitate  to  teU  him,  that 
the  poorest  AquUa  or  Priscilla  of  the  churches 
could  teach  him  "  the  way  of  the  Lord  more  per- 
fectly." 

This  recognition  of  the  love  of  Christ  as  the 
grand  motive  for  loving  the  souls  of  those  who  arc 
perishing  for  lack  of  knowledge,  is  one  of  the 
happiest  signs  of  our  times,  and  one  of  tiie  heal- 
thiest symptoms  of  the  Christian  church.  WhUst 
this  is  the  spirit  of  the  church,  the  world  will  not 
be  neglected  by  her.  Its  dark  places  will  be  no- 
ticed, and  numbered,  and  prayed  for,  and  helped. 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


43 


just  in  proportion  as  this  fine  spirit  prevails.  For, 
happily,  the  love  of  Christ,  hke  the  blood  of 
Christ, — 

"  Will  never  lose  its  power, 
Till  all  the  ransomed  church  of  God 
Are  saved,  to  sin  no  more  !" 

Did  it  ever  occur  to  you,  however,  that  we  do  not 
ply  nor  employ  this  argument  exactly  as  Paul  did, 
when  he  besought  the  churches  to  labor  and  pray 
that  the  gospel  might  have  free  course,  and  be 
glorified  at  home  and  abroad  ?  He  pleaded  with 
them  by  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  as  well  as  by  the 
love  of  Christ.  This  is  not  common  now.  Why, 
then,  are  we  neither  oifended  nor  surprised,  al- 
though we  hear  nothing  about  the  Spirit,  but  just 
tliat  his  influences  are  absolutely  necessary,  and 
]iis  grace  all-suflicient,  to  crown  the  gospel  with 
success. 

This  is  certainly  mucli.  And  then,  it  is  all  to 
the  point.  Indeed,  without  this  full  recognition  of 
the  power  of  the  Spirit,  and  of  the  entire  and 
Tuiiversal  dependance  of  all  means  upon  his  bless- 
ing, even  the  love  of  Christ,  however  preached, 
would  be  preached  in  vain,  both  to  the  church  and 
tlie  world.  It  would  neither  win  the  souls  of  the 
perishing,  nor  constrain  the  zeal  of  the  redeemed. 
But  still,  why  should  not  the  love,  as  well  as  the 
power  of  the  Spirit,  be  appealed  to,  whenever  ap- 
peals are  made  to  us  on  behalf  of  missions  and 
religious  education  ?  It  is  neither  wise  nor  fair, 
to  confine  our  attention  to  the  need  or  the  nature 
of  his  sacred  influences,  whilst  his  own  moral  na- 
ture— or  essence — or  heart — which  is  love,  just  as 
God  is  love,  and  as  Christ  is  love — is  not  kept  be- 
fore us.  We  are  thus  tempted  to  look  with  less 
confidence  and  complacency  on  the  office  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  than  on  the  offices  of  the  Father  and 
the  Son.  Accordingly,  his  agency  is  chiefly  spo- 
ken of,  rather  as  power  we  cannot  do  without, 
than  as  love  which  may  be  depended  and  calcula- 
ed  upon.  For  once  that  his  heart  is  set  before  us, 
quivering  with  tender  sympathy,  and  glowing 
with  intense  love,  and  thrilling  with  strong  sohci- 
tude  for  souls,  we  are  reminded  ten  times  of  his 
hajid,  without  which  "  Paul  might  plant,  and 
Apollos  water"  in  vain. 

Now,  this  is  not  fair.  Not,  however,  that  there 
is  too  much  said  of  the  power  of  the  Spirit,  nor 
that  the  indispensable  necessity  of  its  operation  is 
too  often  or  too  strongly  affirmed ;  but  that  too 
little  is  said  of  liis  love,  and  that  little  too  seldom 
repeated.  The  consequence  is,  that  the  general 
feeling  of  the  churches  towards  the  Spirit  of  all 
grace  is  not  a.  generous  one.  I  mean,  it  is  rather 
a  solemn  than  a  sweet  feehng,  and  breathes  more 
of  awe  than  of  expectation,  and  approaches  near- 
er to  submission  than  to  complacency  or  gratitude. 
We  do  not,  indeed,  thmk  him  an  adverse  or  in- 
different party  to  the  success  of  the  gospel  in  the 
M'orld.  All  our  hope  of  its  success  hinges  upon 
his  good-will  and  great  power.  We  look  for  no 
"increase,"  apart  from  his  blessing.  But  still, 
who  speaks,  or  thinks,  or  feels,  concerning  the 
Spirit's  love  to  the  world,  as  of  the  love  of  God 
and  the  Lamb  ?  Who  kindles  with  rapture,  or 
even  with  a  hope  full  of  holy  zeal,  when  the  Com- 
forter's relation  and  love  to  the  world,  as  well  as 


to  the  church,  are  hinted  at  ?  For,  in  general, 
they  are  rather  hinted  at  than  exhibited.  And 
yet,  "the  world"  has  the  same  place  in  the  heart 
and  mission  of  the  Spirit,  as  in  the  work  of  Christ 
or  in  the  love  of  God.  It  is  just  as  expressly  said 
in  Scripture,  that  the  Comforter  shall  convince  the 
world  of  sui,  and  of  righteousness,  and  of  judg- 
ment, (John  xvi.  8.)  as  it  is  said  that  God  so  loved 
the  world  as  to  give  his  Son  to  be  the  Saviour  of 
the  world,  or  that  Christ  is  the  propitiation  for  the 
sins  of  the  world.  Accordingly,  whenever  Paul 
wanted  to  carry  out  or  to  carry  on  any  great 
evangelizing  measure  m  the  world,  he  brought  the 
love  of  the  Father,  and  of  tlio  Son,  and  "of  the 
Spirit,  to  bear  together  at  once  on  the  churches. 
He  did  not  confine  himself  to  the  love  of  Christ, 
when  intent  upon  calling  forth  love  to  the  poor 
and  the  perishing,  from  the  hearts  and  hands  of 
those  who  loved  Christ.  No  !  mark  how  he 
pleaded  with  the  Romans :  "  I  beseech  you, 
brethren,  for  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ's  sake,  and  for 
the  love  of  the  Spu-it,  that  ye  strive  together  with 
me  in  your  prayers  for  me."  Rom.  xv.  30.  He 
had  just  preached  the  gospel  fully  from  Jerusalem 
and  round  about  unto  Illyricum,  in  aU  places 
"  where  Christ  had  not  been  named,"  and  was 
now  about  to  "  take  a  journey  into  Spain,"  for  the 
same  purpose;  and  therefore  he  craved  the 
prayers  of  the  church  at  Rome,  that  his  missions 
might  be  prosperous.  He  also  "  trusted  to  be 
brought  on  his  way"  by  that  church,  to  his  intend- 
ed Spanish  mission,  as  well  as  to  see  them  by  the 
way.  Thus  he  wanted  both  the  prayers  and  the 
help  of  the  Romans,  to  enable  him,  as  a  debtor  to 
the  Jews  and  the  Gentiles,  to  act  out  his  commis- 
sion as  an  ambassador  of  Christ  to  the  world ;  and 
therefore  he  besought  them  at  once,  for  Christ's 
sake,  and  for  the  Spirit's  sake,  to  work  and  pray 
for  him. 

In  hke  manner,  when  Paul  wanted  the  zealous 
and  benevolent  Phihppians  to  be  more  than  ever 
they  had  been  "  the  lights  of  the  world,"  and  the 
landmarks  of  their  own  "  crooked  and  perverse 
nation,"  he  pleaded  with  them  thus  :  "  If  there 
be,  therefore,  any  consolation  in  Christ,  if  any 
fellowship  of  the  Spirit,  let  that  mind  be  in  you 
which  was  also  m  Christ  Jesus."  The  apostle 
wanted  them  to  hold  forth  the  word  of  life,  as  well 
as  to  uphold  it  amongst  themselves  ;  to  look  upon 
the  things  of  others,  as  well  as  look  to  their  own 
interests  ;  and  to  do  both  with  mucii  of  the  Sa- 
viour's impartiality,  even  it^  in  doing  as  he  did, 
they  should  suffer  both  pain  and  loss.  This  was 
a  great  demand  upon  their  time,  and  property,  and 
patience,  and  imjiartiality  ;  and  because  Paul  felt 
it  to  be  so,  he  placed  it  between  the  double  blaze 
of  the  love  of  Christ  and  tiie  love  of  the  Spirit, 
that  thus  the  compassion  of  the  Phihppians  for 
their  own  nation,  and  all  nations,  might  be  equal 
to  their  ability  and  opportunities.     Phil.  ii.  1. 

In  hke  manner,  when  Paul  wanted  the  Ephe- 
sians  to  be  "  filled  with  all  the  fuhiess  of  God," 
(or,  as  the  Saviour  expressed  the  same  state  of 
mind,  "merciful,  as  your  Father  in  heaven  is 
merciful,")  he  not  only  brought  before  them  the 
heights  and  depths,  the  lengths  and  breadths,  of 
the  love  of  Christ,  but  also  the  witness,  seal,  and 
earnest  of  the  Holy  Spirit  of  promise,  urging  them 
to  maintain  the  unity  and  extend  the  boundaries 


44 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


of  the  church,  by  the  plea,  "  There  is  one  Spirit," 
therefore,  "grieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God, 
whereby  ye  are  sealed  unto  the  day  of  Redemp- 
tion."    Eph.  iv.  15,  30. 

In  like  manner,  Paul  winds  up  his  congratula- 
tions and  counsels  to  the  Thessalonians  thus — 
"Quench  not  the  Spirit."  He  had  begun  his 
epistle  by  reminding  them,  that  they  had  received 
the  gospel  "  with  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  and 
had  proved  this  by  making  it  sound  out  through 
Macedonia  and  Achaia  ;  and,  that  neither  their 
own  joy  might  be  lost,  nor  their  zeal  decline,  he 
closes  his  epistle  by  guarding  them  against 
quenching  that  holy  flame  which  the  love  of  the 
Spirit  had  kmdled  on  the  altar  of  their  hearts  as 
individuals,  and  on  the  altar  of  their  fellowship  as 
a  church. 

Such,  then,  are  the  revealed  facts  on  this  sub- 
ject. What  is  the  fair  inference  from  them  ? 
Surely,  that  we  ougiit  to  resign  our  minds  to  the 
constraining  influence  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  as 
well  as  to  that  of  the  love  of  Christ,  whenever  we 
weigh  the  claims  of  a  perishing  world,  or  co-ope- 
rate for  the  spread  of  the  gospel.  Indeed,  without 
a  due  regard  to  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  there  will 
not  be  much  yielding  to  the  influence  of  the  love 
of  Christ.  I  would,  therefore,  urge  the  one  mo- 
tive, were  it  only  to  give  force  to  the  other  ;  and 
inculcate  the  one  duty,  were  it  only  for  the  sake 
of  the  other  :  for  nothing  has  such  a  tendency  to 
exalt  and  endear  the  love  of  tlie  Saviour,  and  thus 
to  throw  open  our  hearts  to  its  sweet  constraint, 
as  a  proper  sense  of  the  love  of  the  Comforter. 
It  is  the  latter  that  reveals  and  applies  the  former  : 
for,  who  see  unscaleable  heights,  or  unfathomable 
depths,  or  immeasurable  lengths  and  breadths,  in 
the  love  of  Christ,  or  feel  tliat  it  passeth  know- 
ledge, but  those  whose  eyes  have  been  opened 
and  enlightened  by  tlie  Holy  Spirit  ]  Who  com- 
prehend, "  with  all  saints,"  how  the  love  of  Christ 
passeth  knowledge,  but  those  who  have  been 
"  strengthened  with  might,  by  the  Spirit,  in  the 
inner  man  ?"  And  this  is  equally  true  of  the  love 
of  God.  Wherever  it  is  "  shed  abroad  in  the 
heart,"  it  is  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  Rom.  v.  5.  In 
like  manner,  all  our  love  to  both  God  and  the 
Lamb  "  is  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit."     Gal.  v.  22. 

It  is  impossible  to  weigh  these  facts,  without 
feeling  that  it  is  equally  desirable  and  necessary 
to  give  the  love  of  the  Spirit  that  place  in  our 
creed  and  confidence  which  it  has  in  the  word  of 
God.  But  the  question  is,  how  can  this  be  best 
done  1  For,  now  that  we  see  how  little  his  love 
has  been  noticed,  there  is  some  danger  of  running 
to  the  opposite  extreme.  We  must  guard  against 
this  with  great  care.  We  must  never  forget  that 
it  is  the  love  of  God,  and  the  love  of  Christ,  and 
not  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  chiefly  exhi- 
bited in  the  gospel.  Indeed,  the  promise  of  the 
Spirit  is  itself  a  part  of  the  gospel,  and  his  love 
the  seal  of  their  love  :  accordingly,  it  is  never 
dwelt  upon  by  the  apostles,  either  so  long  or  so 
often  as  the  love  of  God  and  the  Lamb.  It  is 
always  implied,  in  all  that  is  said  of  the  reign  of 
grace,  and  occasionally  appealed  to  with  great 
point  and  pathos  ;  but  it  is  never  argued  nor  cele- 
brated with  the  fulness  or  force  with  which  Paul 
emblazons  the  love  of  Christ,  and  John  tlie  love 
of  God.     Still,  the  New  Testament  is  full  of  it. 


Like  the  principle  of  gravitation  in  nature,  the 
love  of  the  Spirit  pervades  every  thing  in  grace. 
It  does  not  blaze  with  the  effulgence  of  the  Sa- 
viour's love,  nor  shme  with  the  brightness  of  the 
Father's  love ;  but  it  is  the  steady  daylight  and 
moonlight  of  the  church,  by  which  she  both  walks 
and  works,  and  without  which  she  could  do  no- 
thing for  herself  or  the  world.  Let  us,  therefore, 
examine  its  bearings  upon  our  duty,  in  reference 
to  the  spread  of  the  gospel  at  home  and  abroad. 

Now,  our  first  duty  (and  all  Christians,  without 
exception,  can  discharge  it)  is,  fervent  prayer  for 
the  spread  of  the  gospel.  I  say  fervent,  and  I 
might  add  special :  for  a  mere  passing  or  general 
petition,  at  the  close  of  our  ordinary  prayers,  is 
not  at  all  like  what  is  commanded  by  Christ,  and 
implored  by  the  apostles.  The  Saviour  added  to 
the  command,  "  Say,  Thy  kingdom  come,"  the 
equally  authoritative  command,  "  Pray  ye  the 
Lord  of  the  harvest,  that  he  would  send  forth  la- 
borers into  his  harvest."  Matt.  Lx.  38.  In  hke 
manner,  it  was  not  for  vague  or  general  prayers 
that  the  apostles  called  when  they  appealed  to 
the  churches  ;  but  for  definite  and  agonizing 
prayer  on  behalf  of  specified  individuals.  This 
was  Paul's  own  entreaty  to  the  Romans  for  him- 
self :  "  I  beseech  you,  brethren,  for  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ's  sake,  and  for  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  that 
ye  agonize  together  with  me  in  your  prayers  for 
me."  Thus,  also,  he  besought  the  Ephesians : 
"  And  for  me,  that  utterance  may  be  given  unto 
me,  that  I  may  open  my  mouth  boldly,  to  make 
known  the  mystery  of  the  gospel."  Eph.  vi.  19. 
Thus,  also,  he  besought  the  Thessalonians,  on 
behalf  of  himself  and  all  his  fellow-laborers, — 
"  Brethren,  pray  for  us."     1  Thess.  v.  25. 

These  commands  and  requests  are  not  fairly 
met,  by  an  occasional  or  general  petition  for  tho 
spread  of  the  gospel.  Its  ministers  and  mission- 
aries should  be  named  in  our  prayers.  Our  own 
ministers  and  our  own  missionaries  should  have 
their  names  engraven  upon  our  breastplate  of  in- 
tercession. And  for  this  obvious  reason  :  prayer 
will  not  be  agonizing  nor  fervent,  until  it  is  per- 
sonal. It  is  not  so  for  ourselves,  until  it  fix  upon 
some  specific  want,  or  wo,  or  danger,  and  concen- 
trate itself  upon  the  precise  help  we  need. 

But,  who  pray  for  their  minister,  or  for  mission- 
aries, thus  distinctly — earnestly  1  Who  agonize 
with  either,  in  prayer  for  them,  that  they  may  be 
faithful  or  successful !  Again  I  say,  that  a  gene- 
ral reference  to  the  ministry  as  a  body,  in  prayer, 
is  mere  compliment,  not  suppHcation.  It  might 
be  as  well  omitted  altogether,  as  despatched  thus 
summarily  and  vaguely. 

I  should  be  somewhat  afraid  to  write  thus  freely, 
were  I  not  pleading  by  the  love  of  the  Spirit,  as 
well  as  by  the  love  of  Christ.  Such  prayer  is  so 
uncommon,  that  its  advocate  needs  an  uncommon 
plea.  And,  happily  I  have  one  on  this  occasion. 
You  know  well,  how  much  the  success  of  prayer 
for  yourself  depends  upon  the  Holy  Spirit.  You 
cannot  even  pray  as  you  ought,  nor  for  what  is 
according  to  the  will  of  God,  unless  he  help  your 
infirmities.  Were  he  to  depart  from  you,  either 
as  a  Spirit  of  grace  or  of  supplication,  you  would 
soon  depart  entirely  from  the  throne  of  grace  and 
become  prayerless.  You,  therefore  cannot  afford 
to  say  with  the  slothful  or  the  heartless,  "  Ihave 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


45 


enough  to  do  in  praying  for  myself,  without  taking 
up  the  case  of  others  specially."  It  would  be  in- 
fatuation as  well  as  effrontery,  in  you,  to  go  on 
with  only  a  passing  reference  to  youi'  minister,  or 
to  the  heralds  of  the  cross,  now  that  you  see  that 
agonizing  prayer  for  them  is  what  the  Spirit  de- 
mands from  the  churches  and  enforces  by  his  own 
love,  as  weD  as  by  the  love  of  Christ.  Whilst 
you  overlooked  these  facts,  your  ignorance  might 
be  some  excuse  for  your  neglect :  but  now  you 
are  without  excuse.  You  must  peril  both  the 
success  and  the  perseverance  of  your  prayers  for 
your  own  safety,  if  you  dare  again  to  make  that 
last  and  least  in  them  which  God  has  put  first — 
that  his  word  may  have  free  course  and  be  glo- 
rified. 

Again,  I  say,  you  cannot  afford  to  confine  your 
prayers  to  yourself ;  because  you  cannot  go  on, 
nor  keep  up  in  the  divine  life,  without  the  help  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  He  has  now  taught  you  a  new 
lesson,  by  leading  you  into  an  old  truth  which 
many  overlook  ;  but  which  you  can  never  forget, 
whilst  you  remember  the  love  of  the  Spirit  or  your 
own  dependance  upon  his  grace. 

I  bring  the  matter  to  this  point,  without  cere- 
mony or  circumlocution,  because  it  is  of  no  use 
now,  for  you  or  me  to  evade  the  duty  thus  brought 
before  us,  by  pretending  that  we  have  too  little 
time,  and  too  much  in  our  own  case  to  think  about, 
in  prayer,  to  take  any  lively  or  special  interest  in 
the  case  of  others.  Why  ;  the  less  time  we  have, 
and  the  more  pressing  our  own  wants  are,  the 
more  we  are  bound  to  bear  upon  our  hearts  the 
men  and  the  means  by  which  God  is  carrying  on 
hia  own  kingdom.  We  shall  not  fare  the  worse 
for  dividing  our  prayers  between  them  and  our- 
selves. God  will  take  care  that  we  shall  be  no 
losers  by  seeking  the  spiritual  gain  of  others. — 
We  shall  both  pray  better  and  more  successfully, 
when  we  become  intercessors  as  well  as  suppli- 
cants. Try  the  experiment  for  a  week  : — and 
see  how  the  love  of  the  Spirit  will  enable  you  to 
wrestle  and  prevad  for  yourself,  when  you  set 
yourself  to  agonize  for  and  with  the  ministers  who 
have  the  glory  of  God  at  heart.  Neglect  it  as 
you  have  done,  and  see  how  the  Spirit  will  leave 
you  to  sealed  lips,  or  to  comfortless  prayer  ! 

Another  duty,  in  reference  to  the  spread  of  the 
gospel  abroad,  and  its  efficiency  at  home,  is  hbe- 
rality  in  the  cause  of  Christ.  I  call  the  consecra- 
tion of  property  to  the  cause  of  God,  "  hberahty," 
because  thus  it  is  acknowledged  and  commended 
in  the  word  of  God  :  otherwise  I  durst  not  have 
given  it  this  name  :  for  what  have  we  to  give, 
which  we  have  not  received  1  True  ;  we  may 
have  earned  what  we  have,  honestly  and  by  hard 
industry,  or  inherited  it  legally  and  legitimately  ; 
but  who  enabled  us  to  be  industrious  ;  who  crown- 
ed honest  effort  with  success  ;  who  spared  us  to 
inherit  ancestral  or  family  property  ?  The  Provi- 
dence which  did  all  or  any  of  this  for  us,  never 
gave  us  a  discretionary  power  over  what  it  com- 
mitted to  our  trust.  We  are  responsible  stewards 
for  whatever  we  possess.  Every  man  is  as  much 
bound  to  administer  faithfully  what  God  intrusts 
to  him,  as  if  his  property  were  a  fund  for  widows 
or  orphans.  I  mean,  tliat  it  is  no  more  at  his  op- 
tion to  hoard  the  surplus  beyond  what  his  own 
wants  require,  than  to  encroach  on  the  capital  of 


a  WILL  beyond  what  the  execution  of  it  requires. 
Hence,  David  thanked  God  both  for  the  ability 
and  inclination  to  offer  freely  to  the  temple  ;  and 
then  added,  "  Of  thine  own  have  we  given  thee." 

This  is  a  hard  saying,  whicli  will  not  be  borne 
by  any  one  who  does  not  understand  and  appre- 
ciate the  love  of  the  Spirit,  as  well  as  the  love  of 
Christ.  All  such  will,  like  Ananias  and  Sapphira, 
venture  to  "  he  unto  the  Holy  Ghost,"  by  giving 
no  more  than  what  will  just  appear  to  man  enough 
to  sustain  their  reputation,  when  they  are  com- 
pared with  others,  apparently  in  the  same  circum- 
stances. 

This  is  a  subject  I  would  not  touch,  were  not 
my  chief  object  to  warn  you  against  lying  to  the 
Holy  Ghost.  It  is  fearfully  common  to  join  in 
singing  hymns,  which  pledge  the  soul  to  give  up 
every  thing  to  the  claims  of  (^hrist.  Now,  this 
is  either  mockery  or  perjury;  for  no  man  does 
sell  or  forsake  all  for  the  sake  of  Christ  and  tiie 
gospel.  It  is  not  very  certain  that  it  is  any  man's 
duty  to  do  so,  now  that  the  church  is  large  enough 
to  evangehze  the  world,  if  she  were  as  liberal  as 
she  could  well  afibrd  to  be.  It  is,  however, 
(although  not  the  unpardonable  sin  against  the 
Holy  Ghost)  a  sin  against  the  Spirit,  to  promise  or 
profess  any  liberality  wliich  is  not  intended  nor  ex- 
ercised. It  is  no  jest,  nor  sinless  matter,  of  course, 
to  sing, 

"  Or  if  I  might  make  some  reserve, 
And  duty  did  not  call, 
I  love  my  Lord  with  zeal  so  great, 
That  1  would  give  him  all." 

It  may  be  cheap  charity,  but  it  is  dear  worship, 
to  sing, 

"  Were  the  whole  realm  of  nature  mine, 
That  were  a  gift  by  far  too  small," 

whilst  far  more  is  expended  upon  the  luxuries  of 
hfe,  than  upon  the  poor  or  the  perishing. 

O,  why  is  this  so  ill  managed,  even  by  those 
who,  on  the  whole,  mean  well?  How  easy  it 
would  be  for  any  Christian  to  settle  the  question 
of  what  he  can  do,  and  then  do  it  as  unto  God, 
without  any  reference  as  to  what  man  may  think 
of  it !  You  are  deeply  interested  m  this  matter, 
whether  you  have  much  or  httle  to  spare  for  the 
cause  of  God :  for  both  riches  and  poverty  may 
prove  equal  snares  ;  the  former  by  estranging  the 
heart  from  God,  and  the  latter  by  hardening  it 
against  him.  Nothmg  but  the  grace  of  the  Spu-it 
can  prevent  this.  Why,  then,  not  deal  honestly 
with  him  1  Nothing  is  asked  or  expected  from  us 
beyond  what  Providence  enables  us  to  do  :  and 
not  to  do  that,  is  to  provoke  the  Holy  Sphit  to  let 
the  world  drown  us  in  perdition.  Remember; 
when  P^phraim  made  it  an  idol,  God  said,  "  Let 
him  alone."  And,  what  is  douig  less  than  we  can, 
but  making  an  idol  of  what  we  keep  back  ! 

It  is  no  use  to  quibble  or  equivocate  :  if  we  are 
not  acting  the  part  of  the  widow,  who  did  "  what 
she  could"  for  the  treasury  of  God,  we  are  resist- 
in-i-  the  Holy  Ghost ;  for  one  of  the  cliaractens- 
tic  marks  of  his  saving  operations  on  the  soul,  if, 
to  open  the  heart  and  the  hands  to  the  cause  of 
Christ  in  the  world  :  and  if  he  bo  resisted  at  that 
point,  what  can  be  looked  for,  but  resistance  from 


46 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


him  at  all  points  in  which  our  own  comfort  or 
safety  is  involved?  He  will  not  submit  to  be 
mocked  by  empty  comphments  nor  by  selfish 
prayers.     It  is  however,  mere  mockery  to  cry, 

"  Come,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove, 
With  all  thy  quick'ning  powers, 
Come,  shed  abroad  a  Saviour's  love, 
And  that  shall  kindle  ours  ;" 

if,  at  the  same  time,  we  are  consulting  nothing  but 
our  own  interests.  Never,  but  in  obeying  Christ, 
can  we  expect  any  such  manifestation  of  his  love 
from  the  Spirit.  "  If  ye  love  me,"  says  the  Sa- 
viour— do  what? — "keep  my  commandments." 
Yes  :  keep  them,  as  well  as  pray  for  the  Spirit : 
keep  them,  as  well  as  ponder  over  the  state  of 
your  own  feehngs. 

Why  is  not  tliis  simple  advice  taken  by  all  who 
are  anxious  to  ascertam  the  sincerity  of  their  love 
to  Christ?     That, 

"  It  is  a  point  we  long  to  know ! 
Oft  it  causes  anxious  thoughts." 

but  whilst  we  do  nothing  but  tlwik,  it  will  remain 
an  unsettled  point ;  because  we  can  do  no  more 
than  think.  We  can  act  in  reference  to  the  com- 
mandments of  Christ,  however  poor  or  uninfiuen- 
tial  we  may  be.  We  can  bring  the  reality  of  our 
love  to  the  test,  if  we  have  nothmg  to  give,  by 
keeping  that  command,  "  Pray  ye  the  Lord  of  the 
harvest,  that  he  would  send  forth  laborers  into  his 
harvest."  And  if  we  have  it  in  our  power  to  aid 
the  kingdom  of  Christ,  either  by  helping  to  extend 
it,  or  by  assisting  its  poor,  we  need  neither  waste 
our  time  nor  perplex  our  minds,  in  sitting  in  judg- 
ment upon  the  feeling  of  love  ;  let  us  test  it;  at 
once,  by  doing  all  we  can  for  the  poor  and  perish- 
ing. And  depend  upon  it,  if  our  love  can  make 
sacrifices  for  Christ,  it  is  not  insincere :  whereas, 
nothing  can  prove  its  genuineness,  but  keeping  his 
commandments.  Love,  like  hfe,  can  only  be  de- 
monstrated by  doing  or  enduring. 


No.  XIV. 

TILE    LOVE   OF   THE   SPIRIT    AS   THE    EARNEST   OF 
HEAVEN. 

There  is,  perhaps  no  test  of  piety  we  are  more 
afraid  of  trying  ourselves  by,  than  heavenly- 
mindedness  ;  for  even  when  we  are  least  earthly- 
minded  we  are  not  exactly  heavenly-minded,  in 
the  sense  of  desiring  "  to  depart  and  be  with 
Christ."  Paul's  "strait,"  in  choosing  betwixt 
heaven  and  earth,  is  thus  a  rare  strait  now,  except 
in  the  case  of  very  aged  or  very  afflicted  Chris- 
tians :  and  even  amongst  them,  it  is  not  very 
common.  Many  "groan,  being  burdened,"  in 
their  earthly  tabernacle,  who  do  not  earnestly  de- 
sire "  to  be  clothed  witii  their  house  which  is  from 
heaven."  In  general,  the  world  must  be  desolate 
to  us,  as  it  was  to  Noah's  dove,  when  she  found 
no  place  on  all  its  surface,  for  the  soles  of  her  feet, 
before  we  say  from  the  heart,  "  O,  that  I  had 
wings  like  a  dove,  that  I  might  fly  away  to  heaven, 


and  be  at  rest."  For  although  we  often  feel  deeply 
that  this  world  "  is  not  our  rest,"  that  feeling  is 
seldom  connected  with  longing  for  "the  rest  whicli 
remaineth  for  the  people  of  God."  We  must  be 
very  weary  indeed,  before  we  are  willing  to  enter 
into  that  rest.  The  prayer,  "  Come,  Lord  Jesus, 
come  quickly,"  is  not  grown  out  of  use  altogether ; 
but  it  is  not  common  prayer,  even  amongst  the 
prayerful.  The  last  enemy  must  come  very  close 
indeed  to  our  bedside,  before  we  entreat  Jesus  to 
come  quickly.  The  "  Amen"  of  that  cry,  is  usu- 
ally mingled  with  the  death-rattle  in  the  throat. 

I  do  not  forget,  whilst  unveiling  this  fact  thus 
unceremoniously,  that  there  are  times,  even  when 
life  is  strong,  and  home  happy,  and  the  world  not 
unpleasant,  when  most  Christians  would  neither 
be  afraid  nor  very  unwilling  to  exchange  worlds. 
Very  few  are  utter  strangers  to  moments  of 
spiritual  delight,  concerning  which  they  can  say 
with  truth  and  soberness,  "  I  could  have  taken  an 
eternity  of  that  dehghtful  season."  But  these 
sweet 

"  Moments,  rich  in  blessing," 

are  in  general,  but  momentary.  The  flame  of  the 
sacrifice  must  be  as  strong  as  it  is  bright,  before 
the  soul,  like  Manoah's  angel  can  spread  its  wings 
in  the  blaze,  to  ascend  up  to  heaven  at  once. 

This  does  occur,  however,  occasionally,  both  in 
the  closet  and  the  sanctuary.  And  whenever  it 
does  so,  it  is  fully  and  gratefully  ascribed  to  the 
"  Spirit  of  grace  and  supplication."  Then  we  do 
mean  and  feel  what  v/e  say, — that  the  Spirit  has, 
indeed  "  helped  our  infirmities."  This,  we  do  not 
hesitate  to  consider  and  call, — "  the  communion 
of  the  Holy  Ghost." 

I  thus  notice  and  point  out  distinctly,  both  the 
ordinary  level  at  which  our  love  of  heaven  rests, 
and  the  extraordmary  height  it  can  be  raised  to 
occasionally  and  for  a  moment ;  just  that  we  may 
see  clearly,  what  the  Holy  Spii'it  has  to  do,  in 
order  to  produce  any  heavenly-mindedness  in  our 
earthly  hearts ;  and  what  he  can  do,  in  carrying 
om-  thoughts  within  the  veil,  and  setting  our  af- 
fections on  things  above.  In  both  cases,  he  does 
that  for  us,  which  nothing  but  strong  love  would 
undertake,  and  nothing  but  great  power  could  ac- 
complish. 

Let  me  still  more  frankly  explain  to  you  my 
object  in  these  familiar  hints.  I  am  very  much 
dissatisfied  with  the  forgetful  and  reluctant  tone 
of  my  own  mind,  in  regard  to  heaven.  1  have 
tried  not  a  few  experiments,  in  order  to  acciuire  a 
keener  relish  for  "  the  glory  to  bo  revealed,"  and 
a  more  settled  habit  of  looking  at  the  "  things 
which  are  unseen  and  eternal."  It  was,  indeed, 
for  this  express  purpose,  in  my  own  case,  that  I 
wrote  my  " Eternity  ReaUzed."  I  called  it  "A 
Guide  to  the  Thoughtful,"  and  thousands  in  Eu- 
rope and  America,  have  received  it  as  such  :  but 
it  was  written  to  check  my  own  thoughtlessness, 
on  this  absorbing  subject.  I  find,  however,  that 
a  charm,  as  well  as  a  check,  is  wanted,  in  order 
to  keep  up  any  thing  like  heavenly-mindedness. 
And  yet,  the  checks  upon  the  neglect  of  it,  which 
are  furnished  by  the  word  of  God,  are  very  so- 
lemn !  One  of  them  is  to  me,  very  toucliing  and 
powerful :  and  you  will  never  forget  it,  if  you  will 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT, 


47 


only  weigh  it  once.  I  refer  to  the  reasons  which 
Paul  assigns  to  the  Hebrews,  when  explaining  to 
them, — why  God  was  «  not  ashamed  to  be  called" 
the  God  of  the  patriarchs.  "They  desired  a 
heavenly  country  ;  wherefore,  God  is  not  asham- 
ed to  be  called  their  God."  Heb.  xi.  16.  Thus 
the  apostle  plainly  intimates,  that  God  would  ka.ve 
been  ashamed  "  to  be  called  their  God,"  if  the 
patriarchs  had  been  ashamed  to  confess  "that 
they  were  pilgrims  and  strangers  on  the  earth ;" 
or  ashamed  to  avow  before  the  world,  that  they 
desired  "  a  better  country."  But  they  were  not 
ashamed  to  do  so.  They  said  and  did  things 
which  "  declared  plainly,"  both  that  this  world 
"was  not  their  rest,"  and  that  they  sought  a  city 
which  God  had  "prepared  for  them." 

What  a  flood  of  explaining  and  humihating 
light,  this  one  fact  throws  upon  our  experience ! 
How  often  we  have  both  wandered  and  wept, 
because  we  found  so  much  difficulty  in  calling  or 
considering  God,  as  "our  God!"  How  often 
have  you  and  I  said,  "If  God  were,  indeed, 
my  God,  in  covenant,  or  in  Christ,  would  he  not 
manifest  himself  to  me  as  such,  or  as  he  does  not 
manifest  himself  unto  the  world  V 


"  When  I  can  say,  my  God  is  mine, 
When  I  can  feel  his  glories  shine, 
I  tread  the  world  beneath  my  feet, 
With  all  that  earth  calls  good  or  great :" 

but  how  seldom,  and  how  sUghtly  this  occurs  !" 

You  see  one  great  reason  of  this  now.  You 
have  not  only  been  ashamed  to  avow  before  the 
world  your  desire  for  a  heavenly  country  ;  but 
you  have  been  very  slow  of  heart  to  cherish  that 
desire ;  and,  therefore,  God  has  very  properly 
been  ashamed  to  reveal  himself  to  you,  as  your 
God  in  Christ.  For  how  could  he  be  otherwise  1 
Consider  this.  How  can  the  Heavenly  Father 
manifest  himself  with  propriety,  as  our  Father, 
whilst  there  is  little  or  nothing  heavenly  in  our 
spirit  or  conversation"?  If  our  "  Father's  house" 
is  hardly  ever  thought  of,  except  as  a  far  off  and 
tinal  refuge  from  hell,  how  can  our  Father's  heart 
take  much  interest  in  our  comfort  ] 

I  will  not  strain  this  point,  nor  turn  it  too  sharply 
against  you.  Like  myself,  you  may  have  found 
much  difficulty,  even  when  trying  to  set  your 
thoughts  and  affections  on  heavenly  things.  You 
may  have  deemed  it  useless,  if  not  presumptuous 
also,  to  meditate  on  heaven,  whilst  you  could 
hardly  see  how  you  could  obtain  either  a  title  or 
meetness  for  that  glorious  inheritance.  Well ;  if 
you  would  really  be  glad  to  think  often  of  heaven, 
could  you  only  see  your  own  warrant  and  welcome 
to  hope  for  it,  remember,  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
himself  is  "the  earnest  of  the  inheritance,"  even 
when  his  comforts  are  not  exactly  foretastes  of 
heaven. 

I  did  not  make  this  distinction,  in  the  essay  on 
the  love  of  the  Spirit  in  sealing  believers.  There 
I  wrote  just  as  we  usually  talk  and  think  on  the 
subject,  when  we  are  not  absorbed  with  it.  But, 
now  that  we  are  much  ashamed  and  not  a  little 
afraid,  because  of  our  want  of  heavenly-minded- 
ness,  I  must  be  explicit,  and  say  at  once,  that  the 
Spirit  himself,  and  not  his  comforts,  is  the  earnest 
of  the  inheritance.  Dr.  Owen  has  drawn  this 
T  1  (16) 


distmction,  with  his  usual  precision  and  prudence  : 
"  So  much  as  we  have  of  the  Spu-it,  so  much  have 
we  of  heaven  in  present  enjoyment,  and  so  much 
evidence  of  its  future  fulness.  He  is  in  all  re- 
spects, completely  an  earnest.  For  that  a  thing 
be  an  earnest,  it  is  required  that  it  be  a  part  of 
the  whole,  of  the  same  kind  and  nature  as  the 
whole  ;  and,  that  it  be  a  confirmation  of  a  pro- 
mise and  appointment :— first,  the  whole  is  pro- 
mised ;  then,  the  earnest  is  given  for  the  good 
and  true  performance  of  that  promise.  God  gives 
us  the  promise  of  eternal  life.  To  confirm  this, 
he  giveth  to  us  his  Spirit,— which  is  as  the  first 
part  of  the  promise,  to  secure  us  of  the  whole. 
It  is  the  Spirit  himself  personally  considered,  that 
is  said  to  be  the  earnest." — Owen  on  Communion 
with  the  Holy  Ghost. 

It  is  by  overlooking  this  simple  fact,  that  so 
many  of  the  timid  and  tempted  are  afraid  to  look 
at  heaven,  as  their  own  home.  It  is  not  the  Spi- 
rit himself,  but  "strong  consolation,"  which  they 
reckon  tlie  earnest:  whereas,  he  himself  is  so, 
whether  comforting  or  humbling,  whether  cheer- 
ing or  checking  us.  As  Owen  says,  "  so  much 
as  we  have  of  the  Spirit,  so  much  have  we  of 
heaven."  That  great  and  good  man  knew  his 
Bible  too  well  to  say, — so  much  as  we  have  of 
comfort,  so  much  have  we  of  heaven.  He  knew 
also,  that  meetness  for  the  inheritance  of  the 
saints  in  light,  is  as  truly  going  on  in  the  soul, 
when  the  Spirit  is  carrying  on  our  humility,  or 
our  penitence,  or  our  sense  of  dependance,  or 
even  our  sense  of  utter  weakness  and  unworthi- 
ness,  as  when  he  is  carrying  us  "  out  of  the  body," 
by  an  abundance  of  revelations;  or  within  the 
veil,  as  upon  eagles'  wings.  It  is  not,  indeed,  so 
easy  to  regard  the  Spirit  as  the  earnest  of  hea- 
ven, when  he  is  thus,  as  it  were,  burying  us  in  the 
dust  of  self-abasement,  or  leading  us  through  fires 
and  waters  of  conflict,  as  when  he  is  witnessing 
to  our  adoption,  or  ministering  to  our  comfort : 
but  even  then,  he  is  leading  us  to  the  "wealthy 
place;"  for  these  emptyings,  and  straits,  and 
struggles,  are  as  really  preparations  for  the  rest 
and  rapture  of  glory,  as  the  peace  or  the  joys 
which  are  the  foretastes  of  heaven.  We  have, 
therefore,  the  earnest  already,  just  in  proportion 
as  we  have  the  Spirit  himself  leading  and  sancti- 
fying us.  The  good  work  he  is  carrying  on  m  us, 
warrants  us  to  carry  out  our  thoughts  and  hopes, 
to  "  glory,  honor,  immortality,  and  eternal  life  :" 
for  our  spiritual  discernment,  is  heavenly  light  ; 
our  spiritual  desires,  heavenly  taste ;  our  spiritual 
character,  heavenly  purity  ;  just  in  proportion  as 
we  judge,  and  feel,  and  act,  above  earthly  princi- 
ples and  motives. 

It  will  not  do,  to  think  of  heaven  merely  or 
chiefly  as  rapturous  joy,  or  as  perfect  peace,  when 
judging  of  the  love  of  the  Spirit  in  becoming  the 
earnest  of  heaven.  Heaven  is  worship  as  well 
as  joy ;  and  he  is  the  earnest  of  it,  whenever  he 
helps  our  infirmities  in  devotion,  by  enabling  us  to 
pray  with  the  heart,  or  to  praise  with  the  under- 
standing. Yes;  It  is  always  heaven  begun  on 
earth,  and  going  on  too,  whenever  we  get  beyond 
formality  in  devotion,  and  somewhat  into  the  spi- 
rit of  worsliip.  All  the  Sabbaths,  and  sacra- 
ments,  and  seasons  of  prayer,  which  are  not  "a 
weariness"  to  us,  are  preludes  to  that   perfect 


m 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


worship,  by  which  the  saints  in  glory  serve  God, 
«« day  and  night  without  weariness."  We  may 
not  call  them  preludes  nor  pledges  of  heaven ; 
but  they  really  are  so.  Their  remote  connection 
with  eternity,  is  not  lessened  by  their  immediate 
bearings  upon  time.  Their  present  influence 
upon  our  character  and  steadfastness  in  this  world, 
is,  indeed,  what  we  notice  oftenest  and  feel  most ; 
but  they  anticipate  the  future,  as  well  as  help  at 
present. 

In  like  manner,  all  lively  interest  and  willing 
efforts  for  tlie  glory  of  God  on  earth,  are  heaven 
begun  on  earth.  Never  say  nor  suspect,  that  the 
Holy  Spirit  of  promise  is  no  earnest  of  the  inhe- 
ritance to  you, — if  you  have  ever  rejoiced  over  the 
repentance  of  a  sinner ;  or  ministered  with  de- 
light to  the  wants  of  a  dying  Christian  ;  or  gone 
willingly  to  bless  little  children  ;  or  put  your  hand 
to  the  plough  of  doing  good  in  your  neighbor- 
hood ;  or  had  your  heart  warmed  when  good  news 
came  from  a  far  country.  All  this  is  part  of  the 
bhss  of  angels.  It  is  more.  It  is  "  the  joy  of  thy 
Lord"  himself !  Whilst  Jesus  was  going  about 
"  doing  good"  on  earth,  he  hardly  felt  himself  to 
be  out  of  heaven.  Hence  he  called  himself,  "  the 
Son  of  man,  who  is  in  heaven."  And  there  is 
nothing  more  heavenly  in  Paradise  itself,  than  a 
deep  interest  in  the  glory  of  God  on  earth. 

Tell  me  not,  therefore,  and  let  no  one  tell  you, 
that  the  Spirit  is  not  much  the  earnest  of  heaven 
now.  Tell  those  who  say  this,  that  he  was  never 
so  much  the  earnest  of  the  heavenly  inheritance, 
since  the  apostolic  ages,  as  now.  It  is  not  the 
heaven  of  their  Bibles  they  are  thinking  of,  who 
cannot  see  in  the  church,  the  hope  of  glory,  now 
that  the  habits  and  alms  of  the  glorified  are  so 
prevalent  in  the  church.  All  her  relations  to  the 
poor  and  the  perishing  throughout  the  world, 
whether  by  sympathy  or  zeal,  by  good-will  or  by 
enterprise,  are  identifying  relations  with  all  around 
the  eternal  throne,  and  even  with  the  Godhead 
upon  the  throne. 

The  Spirit  not  the  earnest  of  heaven  !  Who 
then  raised  up  hundreds  of  thousands  of  Sunday 
school  teacliers,  who,  like  the  Lord  of  glory,  wel- 
come little  children  to  their  arms  and  their  hearts? 
Who  then  sent  out  into  the  lanes  and  alleys,  the 
garrets  and  cellars  of  our  towns,  the  thousands 
who,  like  him,  "  stand  at  the  door  and  knock," 
that  they  may  be  invited  in  to  counsel  and  con- 
sole ]  The  Spirit,  not  now  making  believers 
"  partakers  of  the  glory  to  be  revealed  !"  Grieve 
him  not  by  this  ungrateful  and  unjust  charge  :  for 
what  are  our  Bible  and  Missionary  Societies,  now 
immoveably  planted  at  home,  and  immutably 
pledged  to  the  world,  to  fill  the  whole  earth  with 
the  glory  of  the  Lord,  but  incarnations  of  the 
love,  the  benevolence,  and  the  zeal  of  heaven  1 

Those  who  cannot  see  in  all  this,  any  thing  of 
heaven  on  earth  ;  or  who  would  recognise  more 
of  it  in  dazzling  visions  and  mental  raptures,  are 
more  Mahometanized  than  they  intend  or  suspect. 
They  refine,  certainly,  upon  the  Turkish  Para- 
dise, who  conceive  of  heaven  as  mental  pleasure 
only  ;  but  they  are  not  heavenly  minded,  who  see 
no  glory  in  rejoicing  with  angels  over  the  repent- 
ance of  sinners ;  nor  in  joining  with  "  the  souls 
under  the  altar,"  in  crying,  "  how  long"  shall 
Babylon  stand !  nor  in  preparing  for  the  consum- 


mation which  shall  fill  ihe  universe  with  the  grand 
"  Alleluia !  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  are  be- 
come the  kingdom  of  our  God  and  of  his  Christ." 
I  will  not  go  on  writing,  as  if  I  had  always 
looked  at  heaven  in  this  light ;  nor  as  if  I  thought 
that  tliis  strain  would  fall  in  at  once,  and  as  a 
matter  of  course,  with  your  habitual  views  of  hea- 
ven. For  even  if  you  are  prepared  to  throw  your 
thoughts,  in  future,  into  this  channel,  you  cannot 
afford  to  detach  them  from  any  of  the  common 
ideas  of  heaven,  as  a  place  of  rest,  and  reward, 
and  purity,  and  perfect  felicity.  These  sweet  and 
soothing  views  of  our  Father's  house,  are  just  as 
necessary  to  sustain  us  under  trials  and  tempta- 
tions,  and  in  order  to  keep  up  the  spirit  of  home 
piety  and  secret  devotion,  as  more  enlarged  and 
practical  views  of  heaven  are,  in  order  to  inspire 
and  regulate  public  duty.  He  is  not  doing  nor 
enduring  much  in  the  personal  Christian  warfare, 
(whatever  be  his  public  bustle,)  who  never  needs 
to  lay  a  throbbing  head  nor  an  aching  heart,  upon 
the  soft  pillow  of  eternal  repose. 

I  have  no  sympathy,  certainly,  with  sleepy  or 
lazy  notions  of  the  "rest"  of  heaven ;  but  I 
have  no  respect  for  the  piety,  which  has  no  long- 
ings for  moral  perfection,  or  no  relish  for  the 
prospect, 

"  There  shall  we  see  His  face, 
And  never,  never,  sin." 

If,  therefore,  I  am  at  all  teaching  you  anew  lesson, 
I  am  not  setting  you  to  unlearn  any  old  one.  For 
again,  I  say,  you  cannot  aftbrd  to  give  up  any  of 
those  familiar  ideas  of  heaven,  to  which  the  soul 
turns  when  weary  and  heavy  laden,  and  by  which 
the  heart  is  soothed  and  healed,  when  torn  with 
care,  or  bleeding  with  sorrow.  The  things  which 
are  unseen  and  eternal  were  made  visible  to  faith, 
that  patience  might  counterbalance  the  things 
which  are  seen  and  temporal,  when  they  are 
trying ;  and  that  watchfulness  might  counteract 
them,  when  they  are  ensnaring  and  flattering. — 
Never  forget  this  fact.  But  do  remember  another. 
You  have  the  earnest  of  the  Spirit  at  home,  when 
you  live  with  your  family  as  "  heirs  together  of 
the  grace  of  life  ;"  in  the  circle  of  your  pious 
friends,  when  you  live  and  love  as  children  of  one 
Father ;  in  the  fellowship  of  the  church,  when 
your  heart  mingles,  and  your  hand  acts,  with 
those  who  are  preparing  for  heaven;  and  in  the 
communion  of  tlie  universal  church,  when  you 
sustain  her  evangelizing  enterprises,  or  share  in 
her  "  jov  of  harvest  at  home"  or  abroad. 

This  is  the  kind  of  heaven  upon  earth,  which  is 
most  wanted  for  the  world,  and  best  for  the  church. 
It  answers  all  the  purposes  which  the  raptures  of 
retirement  did,  when  cells  and  solitudes  were  al- 
most the  only  places  in  which  heaven  could  be 
realized  ;  and  it  does  what  no  secret  joy  ever  can 
do,  add  to  the  bliss  of  heaven,  by  adding  to  the 
number  and  variety  of  the  heirs  of  glory. 

Do,  adjust  your  hopes  and  habits  as  a  Christian, 
to  the  state  of  things  which  the  dispensation  of 
the  Spirit  has  brought  on  in  the  world  and  the 
church.  You  cannot  make  nor  see  your  way  to 
heaven  ahn^,  as  your  fathers  did.  The  voice  of 
a  world  crying  for  "  help,"  was  not  sounding  on 
the  four  winds  of  the  world,  in  their  time.     Bel 


THE    LOVE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 


49 


had  not  bowed  down,  nor  Nebo  stooped,  nor 
Ethiopia  stretched  forth  her  hands  unto  God,  nor 
Buddh  and  Bramah  began  to  totter  on  their 
thrones,  nor  the  islands  of  the  sea  to  wait  and 
weep  for  missionaries,  when  our  fathers,  as  pil- 
grims and  strangers,  found  the  smallest  and  ob- 
scurest  houses  of  God,  "  the  very  gate  of  heaven." 
Neither  Grecian  chapels  nor  Gothic  cathedrals 
can  be  so  now,  except  the  glorious  gospel  sound 
forth  Jrom  them,  as  well  as  m  them.  Churches 
must  be  tlie  lights  of  the  worid,  and  the  salt  of 
the  earth  now,  if  they  would  find  their  ordinances 
or  their  fellowship,  "  the  savor  of  hfe  unto  Hfe." 

In  a  word ;  the  Spirit  is  the  earnest  of  the 
w)-^oZe  inheritance  of  glory,  and  not  of  that  part  of 
It  which  falls  in  most  with  our  taste.  Think  of 
this  !  What  do  we  more  than  the  world,  when 
we  think  of  heaven,  only  as  a  better  worid,  where 
sorrow  and  sighing  will  for  ever  flee  away,  and 
where  there  will  be  no  more  death  or  separation  ? 
We  require,  indeed,  to  take  and  to  keep  this  view 
of  the  heavenly  rest ;  for  we  have  both  cares  and 
sorrows  which  need  this  antidote.  But  we  have 
no  more  right  to  confine  the  work  or  the  witness 
of  the  Spirit  to  the  hopes  which  are  popular,  than 
to  confine  his  teachmg  to  th.e  truths  which  are 
most  pleasing.  His  office  as  a  Guide  is,  to  "  lead 
unto  all  truth  ;"  and  his  work,  as  the  earnest  of 
heaven,  is  to  bring  down  glory  to  the  heart,  in 
those  forms  which  the  circumstances  of  the  world 
require  most,  and  which  the  church  wants  most. 
It  is  not,  therefore, 

"  In  secret  silence  of  the  mind," 

now,  that  the  church  can  find,  most  readily,  her 
"heaven,"  or  her  "God."  She  must  look  for 
them  in  working,  as  well  as  in  watching. 


No.  XV. 

ON   COMMENDING   THE   HOLY  SPIRIT. 

The  Saviour  always  took  care  to  couple  the  as- 
sertion, "  ye  must  be  born  again,"  with  some  kind 
assurance,  which  made  the  grace  of  the  Spirit 
appear  as  free  as  it  is  necessary ;  and  free  just 
because  necessary.  Even  to  the  woman  of  Sa- 
maria, he  said, — "  If  thou  hadst  known  the  gift  of 
God,  and  who  it  is  that  saith  unto  thee,  give  me 
to  drink,  thou  wouldest  have  asked  of  him,  and  he 
would  have  given  thee  living  water."  Thus  he 
wooed  her  attention  to  the  work  of  the  Spirit.  In 
like  manner,  lie  preached  to  Nicodemus  all  "  the 
fuhiess  of  the  blessing  of  the  gospel,"  in  connec- 
tion with  the  doctrine  of  regeneration.  Neither 
the  ignorance  nor  the  cavils  of  Nicodemus,  pre- 
vented the  Saviour  from  throwing  the  love  of  God 
and  the  glory  of  the  atonement,  like  a  rainbow, 
around  the  work  of  the  Spirit.  "  God  so  loved 
the  worid,  as  to  give  his  only  begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  him,  might  not  perish,  but 
have  everiasting  life,"  was  the  ''small  still  voice" 
which  followed  the  thunder,— "Except  a  man  be 
born  again  he  cannot  enter  the  kingdom  of  God." 
The  man  was  told,  at  the  same  time,  and  as  often, 


that  everiasting  Hfe  was  free  to  all  who  would  be- 
lieve on  Christ  for  it. 

Thus  the  Saviour  dealt  with  individuals,  on  this 
solemn  pomt.  In  the  same  way  he  dealt  with 
groups  of  his  stated  hearers,  when  he  taught  them 
to  pray  :  «  If  ye  then,  being  evil,  know  how  to 
give  good  gifts  unto  your  children,  how  much 
niore  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  his  Holy 
Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him  ]"  Thus  the  Spirit  is 
presented  as  the  paternal  gift  of  God,  and  as  more 
surely  forthcoming,  in  answer  to  prayer,  than  even 

food  IS  to  our  children,  when  they  apply  to  us. 

Now,  this  is  the  form  and  the  spirit  in  which  the 
necessity  of  the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
should  be  spoken  of  by  those  who  would  honor 
him,  or  bring  sinners  to  submit  to  Christ.  He 
stands  in  the  same  relation  to  their  spiritual  wants 
that  household  bread  does  to  the  wants  of  our 
children  :  and  that  is  not  certainly,  a  discouraging 
connection.  Who  would  deny  bread  to  a  himgry 
child  ?  Much  more  will  not  a  paternal  God  with, 
hold  his  Spirit  from  them  that  ask  him.  This  is 
an  appeal  which  all  classes  can  understand,  and 
somewhat  appreciate  too  ;  it  comes  home  so  di- 
rectly to  the  bosom  and  business  of  both  yoimg 
and  old,  rich  and  poor. 

And  now  remember  how  the  Saviour  preached 
the  work  of  the  Spirit  to  the  multitude.  "  In  the 
last  day,  that  great  day  of  the  feast,  Jesus  stood, 
and  cried  with  a  loud  voice.  If  any  man  thirst,  let 
hun  come  unto  me  and  drink.  This  spake  he  of 
the  Spirit  which  they  that  believe  on  him  should 
receive."  John  vii.  37.  This  appeal  was  made 
to  "awy  maw"  amongst  all  the  assembled  thou- 
sands of  Israel,  although  the  people  had  just  said 
to  Clirist,  "  Thou  hast  a  devil ;"  although  many 
of  them  wanted  to  kiE  him,  and  some  of  them 
"sought  to  take  him."  Neither  their  mahgnant 
blasphemy,  nor  their  murderous  designs,  prevented 
him  from  crying,  "  with  a  loud  voice.  If  any  man 
thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me  and  drink."  This  he 
spake  of  the  Spirit  to  tliem !  To  whom,  then, 
should  we  speak  of  him  in  warning  only  1  How 
few  cases  can  come  before  us  in  which  it  is  not 
our  first  duty  to  point  to  him  as  standing  at  the 
fountainhead  of  the  river  of  life,  saying,  "  Come  ; 
whosoever  will,  let  him  come,  and  take  of  the 
water  of  life  freely."  This  would  be  imitating 
Christ.  Whereas,  to  tell  men  of  their  need  of 
the  Spirit,  without  showing  them  the  fulness  and 
freeness  of  his  grace,  is  almost  to  contradict 
Christ. 

It  is  easy  to  say,  "  Who  enforces  the  necessity 
of  being  born  again  of  the  Spirit,  witliout  at  the 
same  time  informing  and  assuring  the  unregene- 
rate,  that  his  redeeming  giace  is  free  grace,  and 
certainly  forthcoming  in  answer  to  prayer  ?"  This 
is,  indeed,  happily  true  now,  upon  a  large  scale — 
but  still,  the  improved  tone  of  the  pulpit  has  not 
improved  the  tone  of  pubUc  opinion  very  much 
yet.  The  delaying  and  the  undecided  stiU  manage 
to  remain  "at  ease  in  Zion,"  by  excuses  drawn 
from  their  want  of  the  Spirit,  or  from  the  sove- 
reignty of  his  influences.  Now,  although  there 
be  no  mode  of  treating  this  subject  \vhicli  would 
put  an  end  to  all  excuses,  still  the  niimberof  tiiem 
might  be  reduced,  and  the  character  of  the  rest 
changed.  An  unconverted  man  should  not  have 
it  in  his  power  to  say,  or  insinuate,  or  euBpect, 


50 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT. 


that  he  cannot  help  his  unregeneracy.  Tins, 
however,  he  will  pretend,  whilst  the  work  of  the 
Spirit  is  oftener  presented  to  him  as  a  work  of 
power  than  as  a  work  of  love.  Calling  it  even  "  a 
work  of  grace"  will  not  cure  him ;  for  he  under- 
stands by  grace,  not  sovereign  favor,  in  the  scrip- 
tural sense  of  that  expression,  but  favoritism — 
and,  therefore,  regards  the  Spirit  rather  as  a 
mighty  eagle,  sailing  and  alighting  arbitrarily,  than 
as  a  gentle  dove,  fond  of  the  habitations  of  men, 
and  for  ever  hovering  around  them.  Take  any 
man  who  is  halting  between  two  opinions,  and  try 
him  upon  this  point,  and  you  will  find  that  it  is 
not  as  the  dove  of  love,  but  as  the  eagle  of  power 
he  is  resisting  the  Holy  Ghost.  I  mean,  he  does 
not  tliink  that  he  is  standing  out  against  a  heart 
full  of  love,  and  a  hand  full  of  grace,  to  himself. 
He  does  not  believe  that  the  Spirit  loves  him  at 
all.  He  may  have  some  idea  that  the  Holy  Ghost 
has  designs  upon  him  in  the  way  of  alarming, 
humbling,  and  checking  him ;  but  nothing  is  fur- 


ther from  his  thoughts  than  the  idea  of  the  Spirit 
designing  or  desiring  to  comfort  him.  The  Sa- 
viour knew  that  this  suspicion  is  "  in  man ;"  and, 
therefore,  he  calls  the  attention  of  the  world  to 
"  what  the  Spirit  saitli  unto  the  churches  ;"  that 
whoever  had  "  an  ear  to  hear,"  should  hear  for 
themselves  both  the  promises  and  warnings  ad- 
dressed to  the  churches.  This  was  a  fine  mea- 
sure  for  commending  the  love  of  the  Spirit  to  the 
world,  and  for  securing  attention  to  his  impartiali- 
ty. So  much  had  been  said  to  the  churches  in  the 
apostohc  epistles,  about  the  care,  and  kindness, 
and  tenderness  of  the  Comforter  towards  them, 
and  so  httle,  comparatively,  of  Uie  breathings  or 
bearings  of  his  love  to  the  world,  tliat  the  apoca- 
lyptic  epistles  were  added  to  jirevent  the  very 
suspicion  of  partiality.  Hence,  whilst  each  of 
them  is  addressed  to  a  specified  church  by  Christ 
himself,  all  of  them  are  re-addressed  to  the  world 
thus,  "  he  that  hath  an  ear,  let  him  hear  what  the 
Spirit  saith  unto  the  churches." 


THE 


REASONABLENESS 


CHRISTIANITY, 


AS  DELIVERED   IN 


THE    SCRIPTURES. 


TO   WHICH   ARE   ADDED 


AN  ESSAY  ON  THE  UNDERSTANDING  OF  ST.  PAUL'S  EPISTLES 


A   DISCOURSE    ON   MIRACLES 

y 

BY  JOHN  LOCKE. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  ESSAY,  AN  APPENDIX, 


AND  NOTES 


BY   A   LAYMAN. 


NEW-YORK : 

THOMAS  GEORGE,  JR.,  SPRUCE  STREET. 

1836. 


INTRODUCTORY     ESSAY. 


Though  :t  vs  by  no  means  our  design  to  present 
tlie  reader,  on  tlie  present  occasion,  with  a  com- 
plete biography  of  Locke,  it  may  perhaps  be  use- 
ful, before  we  come  to  a  consideration  of  the  rea- 
sonableness of  Christianity,  to  glance,  in  a  cur- 
sory manner,  at  the  principal  circumstances  of  his 
life,  which  was  strikingly  marked  by  sudden  vicis- 
situdes and  mutations  of  fortune.  This  distin- 
guished philosopher,  the  elder  of  two  sons,  was 
born  at  Wrington,  in  Somersetshire,  on  the  29th 
of  August,  1632.  He  probably  imbibed  from  his 
earliest  years  a  hatred  of  arbitrary  power,  his  fa- 
ther having,  during  the  civil  wars,  been  an  officer 
in  the  republican  array ;  which,  on  the  restora- 
tion, caused  considerable  detriment  to  his  fortunes. 
Locke,  received  from  the  beginning,  a  very  supe- 
rior education  ;  and,  though  treated  with  much 
strictness  while  a  boy,  was  gradually,  as  he  grew 
up,  permitted  so  share  the  friendship  of  his  father, 
whom  he  loved  with  more  than  ordinary  affec- 
tion. He  was  sent,  at  an  early  age,  to  Westmin- 
ster school ;  from  whence,  in  1651,  he  removed  to 
Christ-church,  Oxford,  of  which  the  celebrated 
independent.  Dr.  Owen,  was  then  dean. 

The  scholastic  philosophy,  based  upon  an  im- 
perfect interpretation  of  the  works  of  Aristotle, 
which,  at  that  period,  prevailed  in  our  universities, 
excited  his  aversion.  He  therefore,  for  some  time, 
directed  his  studies  into  a  different  channel,  and 
employed  himself  in  acquiring  that  intimate  know- 
ledge of  classical  literature,  which  afterwards, 
when  he  came  to  write,  enabled  him  to  rival  the 
first  authors  of  modern  times  in  the  perspicuity 
and  masculine  beauties  of  his  style.  Contrary  to 
what  might  have  been  expected,  his  university 
friends  were  not  selected  from  among  those  of 
learned  and  studious  habits  ;  he  preferred,  it  is 
said,  the  lively  and  agreeable  ;  and  his  early  man- 
ner of  writing  is  not  free  from  those  sallies  of  af- 
fectation, mistaken  by  the  vulgar  for  wit,  which 
may  be  supposed  best  to  have  pleased  such  com- 
panions ;  indeed  his  recent  biographer,  Lord  King, 
compares  the  style  of  his  youthful  correspondence 
to  that  of  Voiture. 

The  love  of  philosophy  was  at  length  awakened 
in  his  mind  by  the  works  of  Descartes ;  but,  in- 
stead of  adopting  the  ingenious  system  of  that 
writer,  then  exceedingly  popular  among  the  learn- 
ed, he  betook  himself  to  the  assiduous  study  of 
the  sciences,  more  particularly  of  medicine,  in 
which  he  made  so  great  a  proficiency  that,  but  for 
the  feebleness  of  his  constitution,  it  is  probable  he 
would  ultimately  have  practised  as  a  physician. 
Sydenham,  in  physic  the  greatest  name  perhaps 
of  modern  times,  speaks  of  him,  in  the  dedication 
prefixed  to  his  "  Observations  on  the  History  and 
Cure  of  Acute  Diseases,"  as  his  most  intimate 
friend,  and  as  a  man  who,  for  genius,  penetration, 
and  exact  iudgment,  had  scarcely  any  superior, 


and  few  equals,  among  his  contemporaries.  It 
was  not  without  reason,  therefore,  that  he  valued 
the  approbation  bestowed  by  Locke  on  his  method 
of  cure,  which  still  continues  to  be  regarded  as  a 
model ;  but  from  this  circumstance  to  infer,  as 
Dugald  Stewart  has  done,  that  the  merit  of  this 
method  belonged  in  part  to  the  philosopher,  hardly 
appears  to  be  warranted. 

On  the  restoration,  in  1660,  Locke,  then  in  his 
twenty-eighth  year,  wrote  a  pohtical  work,  not 
wholly  unimbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  times,  which 
his  maturer  judgment  condemned  to  oblivion.  His 
merit  having  now  procured  him  many  friends,  he 
was  chosen,  in  1664,  to  accompany,  as  secretary, 
Sir  Walter  Vane,  envoy  to  the  elector  of  Branden- 
burgh ;  and  from  Cleves,  where  he  chiefly  resided 
during  his  stay  abroad,  amused  his  friends  with 
lively  descriptions  of  the  Christmas  mummeries  of 
the  Roman  Catholics,  of  Calvinistic  logicians, 
and  Dutch  poets;  in  which  he  exhibited  more 
vivacity  than  good  taste.  Returning  to  England 
early  in  the  spring  of  1665,  he  rejected  an  offer, 
the  accepting  of  which  might  have  permanently 
engaged  him  in  the  career  of  diplomacy;  nor 
could  an  invitation  to  enter  the  church,  with  very 
flattering  prospects  made  in  the  following  year,  by 
a  friend,  prevail  on  him  to  relinquish  his  personal 
freedom  and  independence,  which  he  regarded  as 
the  first  of  blessings. 

Emancipated  from  all  professional  pursuits,  he 
continued  the  study  of  medicine,  and  entered  with 
his  characteristic  enthusiasm  for  knowledge,  into 
a  course  of  experimental  philosophy.  At  this 
period  he  would  appear  to  have  been  sometimes 
consulted  by  his  friends  and  others  as  a  physician  ; 
and  to  his  knowledge  of  medicine  he  owed  his  in- 
troduction to  the  earl  of  Shaftesbury,  then  lord 
Ashley,  with  whom,  notwithstanding  the  vecrmg 
politics  of  that  celebrated  man,  he  maintained  a 
friendship  interrupted  only  by  death.  Lord  Ash- 
ley, who  was  suffering  from  an  abscess  m  his 
breast,  came  to  drink  the  waters  of  Astrop  at  Ox- 
ford, where  Locke  then  resided.  He  had  written 
to  Dr.  Thomas  to  procure  the  waters  for  him  on 
his  arrival,  but  this  physician  happening  to  be 
called  away,  requested  Locke  to  execute  the  com- 
mission. Through  the  negligence  of  the  messen- 
ger sent  to  procure  them,  the  waters  however 
were  not  ready,  and  Locke  waited  upon  his  lord- 
ship to  explain.  Satisfied  with  the  apolog>',  and 
charmed  by  his  conversation,  lord  Ashley  ex- 
pressed his  desire  to  improve  an  acquaintance 
thus  accidentally  commenced  ;  and  the  friendship 
with  which  he  \vas  honored  by  Locke,  is  Perhaps 
the  stron<Test  presumptive  proof  existing  that  his 
character" contained  the  elements  of  many  good 
and  excellent  quahties. 

From  Oxford,  Locke  accompanied  lord  Ashley 
to    Sunning-hill  WeUs,  and  afterwards   resided 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


some  lime  with  him  at  Exeter-house  in  the  Strand, 
where  he  occasionally  enjoyed  the  society  of  the 
duke  of  Buckingham,  lord  Halifax,  and  other  dis 
finguished  men,  who  appeared  to  dehght  in  his 
superior  style  of  conversation.  From  an  anecdote 
related  by  Le  Clerc,  however,  it  would  seem  that 
those  noblemen  sometimes  took  refuge  from  phi- 
losophy in  the  most  frivolous  pastimes  :  for  se- 
veral of  their  number  once  meeting  at  lord  Ash- 
ley's, sat  down  somewhat  abruptly  at  the  card- 
table  ;  upon  which  Locke,  taking  out  his  tablets, 
began  attentively  to  write,  lifting  up  his  eyes,  and 
regarding  them  from  time  to  time.  Observing  him 
thus  occupied,  one  of  the  party  inquired  what  he 
was  writing?  To  which  Locke  rephed,  that  being 
greatly  desirous  of  profiting  by  their  lordships' 
discourse,  he  supposed  he  could  not  be  better  em- 
ployed than  in  registering  the  wise  sayings  which 
dropped  from  persons  who  were  esteemed  the 
greatest  wits  of  the  age.  And  thereupon  he  read 
the  notes  he  had  been  making.  Finding  they  ap- 
peared to  no  great  advantage  in  the  phSosopher's 
report,  the  card-table  was  abandoned,  and  the 
remamder  of  the  evening  given  up  to  conversa- 
tion ;  an  amusement  more  worthy  of  rational 
creatures. 

Lord  Ashley  was  not  without  reason  attached 
to  his  illustrious  guest,  by  whose  advice  he  sub- 
mitted to  the  operation — the  opening  of  an  ab- 
scess in  the  breast — which  saved  his  life  ;  after 
which  he  omitted  no  occasion  of  consulting  him, 
even  in  the  closest  and  most  intimate  concerns  of 
his  family.  And  in  1672,  when,  after  filling  the 
office  of  chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  he  was  cre- 
ated earl  of  Shaftesbury,  and  declared  lord  chan- 
cellor of  England,  he  appointed  Locke  his  secre- 
tary for  the  presentation  of  benefices ;  which, 
with  another  office  in  the  council  of  trade,  the 
philosopher  resigned  in  the  following  year,  when 
his  friend,  abandoning  the  court  party,  placed 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  opposition.  Lord  King, 
whose  work,  however,  contains  much  fewer  ori- 
ginal documents  than  might  have  been  desired, 
brings  forward  several  letters  and  other  evidences 
of  the  intimate  friendship  that  existed  between 
these  celebrated  individuals.  Shaftesbury,  it  is 
clear,  personally  loved  the  man  ;  this  appears  from 
the  tone  of  their  correspondence,  where  we  disco- 
ver, on  all  occasions,  not  merely  great  freedom 
and  mutual  confidence,  but  an  indication  that 
their  friendship  was  far  stricter  and  more  intimate 
than  would  seem  to  be  imphed  in  their  language. 
"  We  long  to  ^e  you  here,"  says  the  earl,  in 
1679,  "  and  hope  you  have  almost  ended  your  tra- 
vels. Somersetshire,  no  doubt,  will  perfect  your 
breeding  ;  after  France  and  Oxford,  you  could  not 
go  to  a  more  proper  place.  My  wife  finds  you 
profit  much  there,  for  you  have  recovered  your 
skill  in  Chedder  cheese,  and  for  a  demonstration 
have  sent  us  one  of  the  best  we  have  seen.  I 
thank  you  for  your  care  about  my  grandchild,  but 
having  wearied  myself  with  consideration  every 
way,  I  resolve  to  have  him  in  my  house  ;  I  long 
to  speak  with  you  about  it.  For  news  we  have 
little,  only  our  government  here  are  so  truly  zea- 
lous for  the  advancement  of  the  Protestant  reli- 
gion, as  it  is  established  in  the  church  of  Eng- 
land, that  they  are  sending  the  common  prayer- 
book  the  second  time  into  Scotland.     No  doubt 


but  my  lord  Lauderdale  knows  it  will  agree  with 
their  present  constitution ;  but  surely  ho  was 
much  mistaken  when  he  administered  the  cove- 
nant to  England  ;  but  we  shall  see  how  the  tri- 
podes  and  the  holy  altar  will  agree.  My  lord  of 
Ormond  is  said  to  be  dying,  so  that  you  have  Irish 
and  Scotch  news  ;  and  for  English,  you  make  as 
much  at  Bristol  as  in  any  part  of  England.  Thus 
recommending  you  to  the  protection  of  the  bishop 
of  Bath  and  Wells,  (whose  strong  beer  is  the 
only  spiritual  thing  any  Somersetshire  gentleman 
knows,)  I  rest  your  very  affectionate  and  assured 
friend." 

Locke  had  from  the  beginning  been  afflicted 
with  ill-health  ;  but  in  1675,  his  asthma  grew  so 
troublesome,  that  it  was  judged  necessary  he 
should  remove  to  a  warmer  and  less  changeable 
climate.  He  therefore  crossed  over  into  France  ; 
and  on  the  way  to  Montpellier,  which  had  been 
fixed  on  for  his  residence,  kept  a  journal,  in  which 
he  very  minutely  described  whatever  he  consider- 
ed worthy  of  notice.  Some  portions  of  this  jour- 
nal,  after  it  had  lain  upwards  of  a  century  and  a 
half  in  obscurity,  lord  King  has  communicated  to 
the  public  ;  and  notwithstanding,  nay,  perhaps,  in 
consequence  of  the  extraordinary  changes  which 
have  taken  place  in  France,  the  interest  of  these 
specimens  is  so  great  that  few,  we  believe,  can 
fail  to  regret  the  not  being  put  in  possession  of  the 
whole. 

From  several  parts  of  this  journal  it  is  abun- 
dantly apparent,  that  in  all  his  travels  nothing  so 
deeply  interested  Locke  as  what  concerned  reli- 
gion generally.  Into  the  condition  of  the  Pro- 
testants in  France,  exposed  to  the  oppression  of  a 
persecuting  government,  and  the  wanton  insults 
of  an  ignorant  and  bigoted  populace,  he  also  in- 
quired with  persevering  sympathy,  and  has  re- 
corded many  curious  facts,  which  ought  not  to  be 
overlooked  in  a  history  of  the  church.  It  must 
at  the  same  time  be  confessed,  that  even  the 
Huguenots  themselves  were  not  wholly  free  from 
the  persecuting  spirit ;  for  not  long  before  Locke's 
arrival,  an  Arian  was  apprehended,  seemingly  at 
their  mstigation  ;  and  had  he  not,  upon  his  trial  at 
Toulouse,  denied  the  truth  of  the  accusation,  and 
made  profession  of  orthodo.xy,  would  have  been 
burnt  alive. 

The  early  opening  of  spring  in  the  south,  where 
he  experienced  considerable  warmth  even  in  Ja- 
nuary, seems  to  have  aflbrded  our  philosopher 
very  particular  pleasure.  Picturesque  descrip- 
tions of  external  nature  were  not  at  that  time  in 
fashion ;  but  his  concise  allusion  to  the  beautiful 
orange-groves  of  Hyeres  forcibly  reminds  us  of  the 
far  more  luxuriant  paradises  of  Rosetta  and  the 
Land  of  Goshen,  where  the  banana,  the  citron, 
the  hme,  and  the  orange,  intermingle  in  charming 
confusion  with  the  graceful  palm  and  the  majestic 
sycamore.  "  Below  the  town,"  says  he,  "  the 
side  of  the  hill  is  covered  with  orange-gardens  : 
ripe  China  oranges  in  incredible  plenty,  some- 
times nine  or  ten  hi  a  bunch.  These  gardens 
form  the  most  deligtful  wood  I  had  ever  seen  ; 
there  are  httle  rivulets  conveyed  through  it  to 
water  the  trees  in  summer,  without  whicJi  tlicre 
would  be  but  little  fruit." 

Having  remained  fourteen  months  in  the  south 
of  France,  Locke  proceeded,  in  March,  1677,  to 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


visit  Paris,  where  he  was  treated  with  much  dis- 
tinction by  the  learned  and  the  great.  Here  he 
continued  until  the  July  of  the  following  year, 
when  he  again  returned  to  the  south  ;  but,  after  a 
brief  stay,  tinally  quitted  it  for  England  ;  having 
been  recalled,  it  is  supposed,  by  his  friend  Shaftes- 
bury, then  at  the  head  of  the  administration. — 
However  this  may  be,  he  arrived  in  London  on 
the  8th  of  May,  1679,  and  for  some  time  resided 
in  Thanet-House,  Aldersgate  street. 

But  that  troublesome  complaint  which,  in  1675, 
had  been  the  cause  of  his  leaving  England,  soon 
compelled  him  to  quit  London,  and  the  ensuing 
winter  was  spent  partly  at  Oxford,  and  partly  in 
Somersetshire.  Locke  now  entered  deeply  into 
the  politics  of  the  times,  and  being  invariably 
ranged  on  the  popular  side,  became  exxeedingly 
obnoxious  to  the  court.  Liberty,  however,  was 
unprosperous  ;  and  Argyle,  Russel,  and  Sydney 
fell  victims  to  their  exertions  in  its  cause  ;  but 
Shaftesbury,  after  a  very  narrow  escape,  towards 
the  close  of  1682,  took  refuge  in  Holland,  where 
shortly  after  his  arrival  he  died.  His  body  was 
conveyed  back  to  England,  and  interred  at  St. 
Giles's  in  Dorsetshire,  "  where  Locke  attended 
the  funeral  of  his  patron  and  friend."  In  the  Au- 
gust following,  conceiving  that  lie  was  no  longer 
safe  in  Great  Britain,  he  also  went  into  voluntary 
exile  m  Holland. 

By  an  illegal  order  of  the  king,  and  the  servility 
of  the  dean  and  chapter — for  the  imiversity  itself 
seems  to  stand  acquitted — Locke  was  in  1684  de- 
prived of  his  studentship  at  Christ-church.  But 
this  wretched  display  of  authority  could  by  no 
means  appease  the  resentment  of  his  majesty. 
Shelton,  the  English  envoy  at  the  Hague,  was  in- 
structed to  demand  that  Locke,  with  several  other 
refugees,  who  were  described  as  traitors  and  mis- 
creants, should  be  given  up  to  the  royal  vengeance ; 
BO  that  the  author  of  the  Essay  on  the  Human 
Understanding  was  by  day  compelled  to  conceal 
himself  like  a  brigand,  and  only  venture  forth  for 
air  and  exercise  under  the  cover  of  darkness. — 
During  this  period  he  was  engaged  in  writing 
his  Letter  on  Toleration,  a  subject  which  had  for 
many  years  occupied  his  thoughts. 

In  the  meantime  William  Penn,  and  the  Earl 
of  Pembroke — the  same  to  whom  the  Essay  on 
the  Human  Understanding  was  afterwards  dedi- 
cated— exerted  their  influenca  to  soften  the  ran- 
cor of  James  II.,  against  the  friend  of  Shaftes- 
bury ;  but  Locke  was  much  too  prudent  to  rely 
on  the  seeming  forgiveness  of  a  Stuart,  and  re- 
mained in  Holland  until  the  Revolution  of  1688 
rendered  his  return  safe.  He  arrived  in  England 
in  the  same  fleet  that  brought  over  the  Princess 
of  Orange  ;  and  was  shortly  after,  by  Lord  Mor- 
daunt,  whom  he  had  known  in  Holland,  (now  one 
of  William's  ministers,)  offered  to  be  employed 
as  envoy  to  one  of  the  great  German  courts  ;  but 
refused  the  appointment,  assigning  as  a  reason 
the  weakness  of  his  health,  which  would  not,  he 
said,  permit  him  to  drink  to  excess — a  qualifica- 
tion he  considered  indispensable  in  an  ambassador 
who  would  obtain  any  influence  in  Germany. 

He  now  published  his  Essay  on  the  Human 

Understanding,  which  during  eighteen  years  had 

formed  his  principal  occupation  :  the  "dedication 

to  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  is  dated  May  the  24th, 

72 


1689 ;  but  a  short  abridgement  of  the  work,  in 
French,  had  appeared  in  the  preceeding  year. 
Buhle,  therefore,  who,  in  his  History  of  Modem 
Philosophy,  states  that  the  first  edition  of  the  Es- 
say was  pubhshed  in  1694,  is  altogether  incorrect ; 
the  whole  of  the  first  impression  having  been  sold, 
and  a  second  issued  as  early  as  1693. 

As  the  philosophical  spirit  exerted,  at  that  pe- 
riod, an  active  and  extensive  influence  in  Europe, 
it  is  by  no  means  remarkable  that  the  Essay 
should  have  excited  much  attention.  The  piiilo- 
sophy  it  contained  was  bold  and  novel,  and  tended 
to  subvert,  in  a  great  measure,  the  fashionable 
hypotheses  ;  consequently  the  alarm  was  sounded 
on  all  sides,  and  the  better  to  refute  his  positions, 
it  was  attempted  to  be  shown  that  the  most  fear- 
ful consequences  inevitably  flow  from  the  princi- 
ples he  sought  to  estabhsh.  The  more  charitable 
were  willing  to  suppose  him  ignorant  of  the  direct 
tendencies  of  his  own  doctrines  ;  others  imagined 
themselves  to  have  discovered  in  the  whole  scope 
and  design  of  his  work,  an  attempt  to  advance  the 
cause  of  irreligion  by  imperceptibly  sapping  the 
foundations  of  Christianity,  and  spreading  the  mista 
of  scepticism  over  the  fountains  of  all  our  know- 
ledge. Even  among  his  intimate  friends  there 
were  those  who  felt  shocked  at  his  denying  the 
existence  of  innate*  ideas.  Shaftesbury,  author  of 
the  "Characteristics,"  in  England,  and  Leibnitz, 
on  the  Continent,  attacked  the  new  philosophy, 
endeavoring,  in  different  ways,  to  show  its  princi- 
ples to  be  dangerous  or  untenable.  Stilhngfleet, 
the  celebrated  Bishop  of  Worcester,  likewise 
ranged  himself  among  the  opponents  of  Locke, 
and  his  death  is  said  to  have  been  hastened  by 
the  signal  defeat  he  sustained  in  the  controversy. 
The  same  thing  is  related  of  Salmasius,  against 
whom  MUton  directed  that  vehement  burst  of 
eloquence — the  Defence  of  the  People  of  Eng- 
land. But  little  credit  is  due  to  such  traditions ; 
and,  as  a  biographer  of  the  poet  judiciously  ob- 
serves, our  great  defenders  of  freedom  can  very 
well  dispense  with  such  testimonies  in  their  favor. 

To  clear  the  way  for  the  reception  of  his  sys- 
tem, Locke  perceived  the  necessity  ui  demolisliing, 
from  the  foundations,  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas 


*  By  using:  the  term  innate  in  an  improper  sense, 
Hume  is  led  to  consider  our  "  impressions"  innate, 
and  our  ideas  not  so.  He  bestows  the  term  im- 
pression upon  "  our  more  lively  perceptions:  when 
we  hear,  or  see,  or  feel,  or  love,  or  hate,  or  desire, 
or  will ;"  and  then  he  tells  us  these  impressions  are 
innate — that  is,  were  born  with,us,  and  were,  con- 
sequently, in  our  minds  before  we  had  heard,  or 
seen,  or  felt,  or  loved,  or  hated,  or  desired,  or  willed. 
I  must  confess  I  can  perceive,  in  his  speculations 
on  the  origin  of  our  ideas,  none  of  that  subtilty  and 
acutenessYor  which  he  has  obtained  credit ;  nor  can 
I  think  him  justified  in  accusing  Locke  of  making 
use  like  the  schoolmen,  of  undefined  terms,  and 
drawing  out  his  disputes  to  a  tedious  length,  wMoui 
ever  Ifluchivs  the  point  in  question.  I  admit  he  is 
sometimes  tedious,— and  who  is  not  1— but  cannot, 
discover  that  he  is  so  without  ever  touching  the 


point  in  question. 


On  the  contrary,  it  is  by  touch- 


n"  it  too  frcquentlv,  by  viewing  it  again  and  .igain, 
in^varicius  lights,  that  he  seems  to  become  tedious; 
and  every  conscientious  seeker  after  truth,  bv  his 


eagerness  to  carry  conviction 


into  the  mind  of  the 


reader,  is  liable  to  lay  himself  open  to  this  charge. 


6 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


tJiose  Koivai  tvvoiai,  on  which  philosophers  had, 

until  then,  been  accustomed  to  build  so  much  of 
their  hypotheses.  The  question,  besides  its  na- 
tural difficulty  and  obscurity,  had  been  surrounded 
by  prejudice  with  a  circumvallation  of  imaginary 
dangers  to  religion  ;  and  the  fears  previously,  by 
^veIl-meaning  but  unphilosophical  persons,  enter- 
tained, were  rather  aggravated  than  dimmished, 
■when,  on  reading  the  Essay,  tliey  discovered  the 
startling  novelty  of  his  theory  of  conscience,  mo- 
rals, virtue  and  happiness.  Besides,  from  over- 
eagerness  to  establish  his  views,  Locke  has  too 
easily  admitted  the  existence  of  whole  nations  of 
atheists  ;  for  had  he,  with  his  usual  accuracy, 
scrutinized  the  relations  of  those  travellers  upon 
whose  testimony  he  on  these  points  relied,  he 
would  have  found  them  filled  with  mistakes,  aris- 
ing from  the  grossest  ignorance  of  the  people  whose 
indistinct  and  uncertain  opinions  on  the  most  ab- 
truse  questions  of  theology  they  had  undertaken 
to  explain. 

However,  if  in  developing  his  system  he  some- 
times inadvertently  availed  himself  of  the  support 
of  doubtful  or  imaginary  facts,  nothing  can  be 
more  certain  than  that  he  completely  succeeded 
in  overthrowing  the  hypotheses  which  he  com- 
bated. Leibnitz,  indeed,  whose  whole  life  was 
spent  in  patching  up  and  contending  for  extrava- 
gant and  exploded  systems,  undertook,  as  has 
already  been  said,  the  defence  of  innate  ideas  ; 
but  this  did  not  hinder  mankind  from  perceiving 
the  truths  advanced  by  Locke,  though  fears  were 
still  entertained  that  many  evOs  of  unknown  mag- 
nitude might  thence  ensue.  Many  seemed,  m 
fact,  to  apprehend  that  he  meditated  nothing  less 
than  the  total  subversion  of  virtue  and  religion  ; 
for  ignorance  had  long  identified  with  the  cause 
of  the  altar  the  errors  which  he  labored  to  remove. 
To  obviate,  therefore,  the  prejudices  that  might 
arise  from  this  supposition,  he  was  careful  to  mani- 
fest, at  every  step  of  the  inquiry,  his  unfeigned, 
deep-rooted  reverence  for  the  things  of  God  ;  and 
this  feehng,  in  him,  was  so  habitual,  so  much  a 
part  of  the  character  and  constitution  of  his  mind, 
so  indissolubly  linked  with  his  eai'liest  and  most 
cherished  associations,  that  he  would  have  found 
it  far  more  difficult  to  conceal  than  to  display  it. 
Accordingly,  it  may  with  the  strictest  veracity  be 
said  that  no  philosopher,  not  even  Plato  himself, 
who  placed  all  true  happiness  in  the  knowledge  of 
God,  was  ever  more  intimately  convinced  of  the 
truths  of  religion,  or  more  thoroughly  imbued  with 
its  divine  spirit,  than  the  author  of  the  Essay  on 
the  Human  Understanding. 

But,  had  it  been  otherwise,  had  he  marshalled 
all  the  powers  of  his  splendid  intellect  against 
Christianity,  what  other  destiny  could  have  await- 
ed him  than  that  which  has  overtaken  so  many 
others  1  How  unworthy,  and  weak,  and  vain,  are 
the  fears  which  good  men  sometimes  entertain 
for  their  religion  !  Certain  exceptions,  indeed, 
appear  to  forbid  the  universal  application  of  wliat 
follows  ;  but,  upon  the  whole,  it  is  most  true  that 
the  religious  feeling  is  as  much  a  part  of  human 
nature  as  reason  or  imagmation.  Religion  began 
with  the  beginning  of  man  in  Eden  ;  it  has  sur- 
vived the  successive  revolutions  of  many  thousand 
years  ;  it  has  defied  persecution  ;  it  has  triumphed 
over  despotism  ;  it  has,  in  all  ages,  been  the  com- 


panion of  those  master-minds,  which  for  their 
loftiness,  and  puritj%  and  holiness,  may  perhaps 
without  impiety  be  said,  during  their  earthly  pil- 
grimage, to  have  walked  with  God.  It  has  like- 
wise humbled  itself  and  become  the  inmate  of  the 
meanest  cottage,  and  cheered  the  laborer  in  his 
labor,  the  poor  man  in  his  poverty,  the  sick  upon 
his  bed  ;  it  has  been  the  friend  and  the  support  of 
the  widovi^  and  the  fatherless,  and  those  who  had 
none  to  help  them  ;  it  has  wiped  away  the  tears 
from  the  eyes  of  affliction  ;  it  has  comforted  the 
despairing ;  it  has  seated  itself  where  all  other 
succor  would  be  vain,  beside  the  couch  of  the 
dying,  and  smoothed  their  pillow  and  mitigated 
their"  pangs,  and  poured  the  oU  of  gladness  into 
their  souls,  and  become  their  counsellor  and  ad- 
vocate and  surety  with  God.  And  shall  we  fear 
for  religion'!  Shall  we  entertain  apprehensions 
for  that  which  can  never  cease  but  with  the  total 
extinction  of  all  finite,  or  at  least  of  all  rational  and 
intelligent  creatures,  which  must  leave  the  Deity 
alone  in  the  immeasurable  universe  1 

But  not  only  was  Locke  under  the  influence  of 
the  religious  spirit, — he  embraced  precisely  that 
modification  of  it  which  constitutes  Christianity  ; 
and  every  where,  in  the  midst  of  the  profoundest 
speculations,  suffi5rs  to  appear  manifest  indications 
that  he  possessed  a  soul  in  pious  humility,  and 
above  all  knowledge  prized  that  which  has  been 
through  Jesus  Christ  revealed  to  mankind.  Indeed, 
the  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding  may  be 
regarded  as  a  rehgious  book?  Througliout,  toge- 
1  ther  with  an  ardent  love  of  truth,  we  find  the  most 
earnest  inculcation  of  contentment  and  holiness  of 
life.  Our  faculties,  feeble  and  limited  as  he  shows 
them  to  be,  are  always  represented  sufficiently 
powerful  to  discover  the  track  of  duty  which  he  be- 
lieves us  able  and  free  to  follow ;  and  no  one,  perhaps, 
ever  perused  attentively  the  chapter  on  infinity 
without  being  smitten  with  involuntary  awe ;  with- 
out intimately  experiencing  the  truth  uttered  by 
the  apostle,  that  in  God  we  live,  and  move,  and 
have  our  being  ;  without  feeling  himself  borne  be- 
yond the  utmost  limits  of  the  universe,  into  those 
immeasurable  realms  of  space,  where  the  Spirit  of 
God  still  appears  to  brood  o'er  the  vast  abyss  and 
make  it  pregnant.  Passing  from  this  sublime  subject 
to  the  consideration  of  power,  of  which  the  human 
mind  seems  incapable  of  conceiving  any  other  than 
a  very  dim  and  obscure  idea,  he  demonstrates  that 
our  notion  of  spirit  is  certainly  not  less  if  it  lo  not 
more  clear  than  our  notion  of  body  ;  and  in  a 
brief  passage,  not  perhaps  wholly  free  from  incon- 
sistencj',  drops  the  first  hint  of  Berkeley's  theory, 
according  to  which  notiiing  exists  for  us  but  as  it 
is  perceived. 

Nevertiieless,  not  being  able  to  deny  tliat  irra- 
tional animals  think  ;  and  being  unwilhng  to  sup- 
pose in  them  a  spiritual  soul,  or  impiously  to  con- 
ceive a  limit  to  the  power  of  (lod,  he  expresses  his 
belief  that  the  Almighty  might  confer  on  matter 
the  faculty  of  thinking.  Hence  the  cry  of  irreli- 
gion  which  was  raised  against  him  in  his  own 
times,  and  has,  among  certain  persons,  been  kept 
up  to  the  present  day.  But,  in  pretendmg  to  de- 
cide what  God  can  or  cannot  do,  we  make  very 
free,  as  Butler  observes,  with  the  Deity  ;  and,  per- 
haps, in  pushing  our  inquiries  into  these  awful 
questions,  are  not  altogether  free  from  impiety ; 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


very  little  reflection  would,  at  least,  serve  to  show 
that,  in  all  such  conjectures,  we  are  endeavoring 
to  pass  tiie  bounds  which  tlie  Almighty  has  pre- 
scribed to  our  understanding,  and  must  therefore 
for  ever  be  baffled  in  tlie  vain  attempt. 

It  is  very  different  when  we  reason  on  the  mat- 
ter of  fact.  Setting  aside,  for  the  present,  that 
portion  of  tlie  inquiry  which  relates  to  the  inferior 
animals,  it  seems  capable  of  demonstration  that 
the  human  soul  is  a  monad,  indiscerptible,  and,  as 
far  as  our  experience  extends,  unchangeable.  AU 
philosophers,  we  believe,  agree  that  the  material 
particles  or  atoms  which  compose  our  bodies  are  in 
a  state  of  perpetual  change,  something  new  being 
constantly  added,  while,  what  previously  formed  a 
portion  of  our  system,  detaches  itself  and  passes 
away  in  insensible  perspiration  ;  so  that  in  seven 
years,  according  to  some  calculations,  the  matter 
of  which  our  bodies  consist  is  wholly  renewed.  In 
this  mutation  the  brain,  of  course,  participates  ; 
consequently,  m  the  man  of  to-day  there  remains 
not  one  particle  of  the  matter  of  which  his  body, 
seven  years  ago,  consisted.  In  tliis  respect  he  is 
as  different  from  his  former  self  as  from  Eteocles  or 
Polynices.  Yet,  though  all  tlie  matter  in  his  orga- 
nized system  be  changed,  there  is  something  in 
the  man  which  remains  unchanged ;  something 
that  links  him  with  his  youth,  with  his  boyhood, 
with  his  infancy,  in  which  memory  and  conscious- 
ness inhere,  which  survives  the  repeated  vicissi- 
tudes of  his  frame,  and  properly  constitutes  himself. 
This  something  cannot  be  matter,  for  it  has  already 
been  shown  that,  under  this  supposition,  there 
could  be  no  identity,  and  consciousness  would  be 
impossible.  For,  allowing,  for  the  sake  of  argu- 
ment, that  it  is  the  brain  which  receives  from  with- 
out ideas  of  sensation,  and  within  forms  those  of 
reflection  by  contemplating  its  own  operations  ; 
the  impressions  made  on  it  could  last  no  longer 
than  itself:  but  it  is  admitted  that  the  material 
particles  composing  the  brain  are  in  a  state  of  con- 
stant flux,  and  come,  in  the  course  of  years,  to  be 
wholly  changed  ;  the  material  particles  which  de- 
part would,  therefore,  were  they  the  depositaries  of 
our  ideas,  carry  away  with  them  all  the  impressions 
they  had,  while  in  the  brain,  received ;  it  would  in 
fact  be  palpably  impossible  these  should  remain 
when  the  substances  on  which  tliey  had  been  im- 
pressed were  detached :  but  we  find  that  ideas  are 
not  thus  fleeting  ;  that  they  continue  to  exist  in 
the  mind  forty,  fifty,  nay,  in  some  men,  a  hmidred 
years :  the  substance  in  which  our  ideas  are  de- 
posited remains,  consequently,  the  same  from  youth 
to  age ;  but  the  matter  of  our  bodies  is  perpetually 
clianging ;  therefore  the  human  soul  is  not  mate- 
rial. 

Another  view  of  the  question  may  equally  serve 
to  convince  us  of  this  truth.  If  the  soul  were  ma- 
terial, it  must,  like  all  other  material  substances, 
consist  of  extended  solid  parts,  and  might  be  di- 
vided ad  injinilum.  Suppose,  however,  it  consisted 
only  of  five  parts,  corrssponding  witli  the  number 
of  the  senses ;  each  part  would  receive  its  pecuUar 
ideas ;  but  being  separated  from  its  neighbor  by 
the  infinite  gulf  which  divides  plurality  from  unity 
and  diversity  from  identity,  it  could  never  commu- 
nicate what  it  had  received,  unless  we  erect  each 
portion  of  the  soul  into  a  distmct  intelligence,  en-  j 
dued  with  seoarate  consciousness,  and  means  of 


imparting  thought ;  which,  in  reality,  would  be  to 
imagme  so  many  souls,  and  to  destroy  the  oneness 
and  individuality  of  man.  For,  how  could  part 
A  obtain  cognizance  of  what  part  B  experienced  T 
There  would  be  an  absolute  necessity  to  suppose 
another  intelligence,  apart  from  this  cluster  of 
material  souls,  and  essentially  one  and  indivisible, 
m  which  might  centre,  as  in  a  point,  the  convergino- 
rays  of  intellectual  liglit ;  or,  to  speak  without  a 
figure,  the  several  trains  of  ideas  transmitted  in- 
ward by  the  senses. 

Interpose,  therefore,  as  many  material  apparatus 
as  we  please  between  the  external  world  and  the 
substance  that  thinks  within  us,  it  is  but  imagining 
a  circle  within  a  circle  ;  we  must  at  last  come  to  a 
monad,  or  unity,  unextended  and  indivisible.  That 
which  has  distinct  separate  parts  can  never  think. 
There  will  always  be  an  absolute  necessity,  not 
only  for  a  vinculum,  or  connecting  principle,  dis- 
tinct from  the  parts  themselves, — and  what  it  is 
that  binds  together  the  particles  of  matter  has 
never  been  explained, — but  likewise  for  something 
essentially  one,  which  may  take  cognizance  of  the 
movements  and  operations  of  the  material  organs 
by  which  it  externally  manifests  its  energies,  and 
through  which  it  receives  ideas  of  what  exists  be- 
yond the  circle  of  its  own  consciousness.  Had  this 
view  of  tlie  question  presented  itself  to  Locke,  it  is 
probable  he  would  iiave  discovered  its  perfect  con- 
sistency with  the  phenomena  of  tiiought ;  and  have 
thence  inferred  that,  unless  it  sliould  please  God 
to  confer  on  matter  other  qualities  than  it  now 
possesses,  that  is,  to  change  its  nature,  it  must  for 
ever  remain  incapable  of  thinking. 

In  tracing  the  connection  of  the  Essay  on  the 
Human  Understanding  with  religion, — which  our 
limits  enable  us  very  imperfectly  to  accomplish, — ■ 
it  would  be  unpardonable  to  overlook  its  rigorous 
demonstration  of  tlie  existence  of  a  God.  It  is  in- 
deed humiliating  to  our  reason  that  there  should 
be  individuals  whose  opinions  render  such  a  demon- 
stration necessary.  But  this  is  tlie  case, — indeed 
many  ingenious  men  have  amused  the  world  with 
doubts  of  their  own  existence  ; — and  since  it  is  so, 
we  must  endeavor  to  show  tliat  nature  supplies 
us  with  lights  the  possession  of  which  renders  doubt 
on  this  subject  wholly  inexcusable. 

It  is  often  objected  by  the  lovers  of  novelty  that 
the  proofs  and  arguments  made  use  of  in  this  de- 
monstration arc  hackneyed ;  and  so  they  are.  And 
if  a  man  should  now  go  about  to  show  that  tlie 
three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right 
ones  ;  or  that  ten  and  three  and  seven  are  equal 
to  twenty,  what  could  he  say  that  would  not  be 
hackneyed  ?  Truth,  and  our  mode  of  approaching 
it  through  syllogisms,  and  tiie  circumstances  of 
nature,  and  the  make  and  powers  of  one  mind,  re- 
maining nearly  the  same,  iiow  can  we, — if  truth  be 
our  object,  and,  we  would  not,  for  novelty's  sake, 
embrace  error, — do  otherwise  tiian  repeat,  in  our 
own  manner  indeed,  tlie  arguments  which  have 
heretofore  been  employed  by  others  for  the  same 
purpose?  Hippias  of  Eleia,  a  man  celebrated  in 
antiquity  for  his  aversion  to  old  truths,  once  made 
himself  merry  with  Socrates  upon  the  monotony  of 
his  opinions  ;  and  in  return  was  comj)liniented  by 
the  philosopher  on  the  wonderful  versatility  which 
enabled  him  constantly  to  shift  the  bases  of  hie 


8 


NTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


thoughts,  and  to  decide,  on  the  self-same  question,  i 
now  one  way,  and  now  another.*  | 

Locke  in  this  resembled  Socrates,  that  he  felt  no  l 
aversion  to  embrace  truths  because  they  had  been 
previously  embraced  by  others.  He  was  not  desir- 
ous of  startling,  but  of  instructing  mankind.  And 
being  persuaded  that  real  knowledge  is  condu- 
cive to  real  happiness,  he  dissembled  no  truths 
which  he  appeared  to  have  discovered,  and  scorned, 
on  all  occasions,  to  dress  up  popular  errors  in 
the  guise  of  eternal  verities,  either  for  the  pur- 
pose of  eluding  persecution,  or  acquiring  for  him- 
self the  advantages  of  power.  We  may  be  sure, 
therefore,  that  he  was  most  eaniest  in  the  pursuit, 
and  most  honest  in  the  disclosure  of  what  he  con- 
ceived to  be  truth ;  and,  accordingly  that,  in  his  de- 
monstrations of  the  existence  of  a  God,  we  behold, 
not  the  arguments  of  a  cold,  subtile  metaphysician 
linked  together  for  display,  but  the  reasoning  of  a 
man  whose  warm  conviction  gives  weight  to  every 
proof,  and  infuses  through  the  whole  composition 
a  vigor  and  vitality  not  to  be  found  in  the  unsa- 
tisfactory  ratiocinations  of  a  sophist. 

Did  the  space  requisite  for  the  due  considera- 
tion of  other  topics  permit,  we  would  willingly 
have  introduced  in  this  place  the  whole  of  the  in- 
comparably splendid  chapter  to  which  we  have 
been  alluding.  But  all  we  have  room  for  is  an 
extract,  which  may,  however,  induce  the  reader, 
if  he  should  happen  not  to  be  already  acquainted 
with  it,  to  have  recourse  to  the  Essay  itself.  Hav- 
ing observed  that,  though  the  evidence  of  the  e.x- 
istenceof  a  God  be  equal  to  mathematical  cer- 
tainty, it  yet  requires  thought  and  attention,  and 
that  the  mind  should  apply  itself  to  a  regular  de- 
duction of  it  from  some  part  of  our  intuitive 
knowledge,  he  proceeds : — "  I  think  it  is  beyond 
question  that  man  has  a  clear  idea  of  his  own  be- 
ing ;  he  knows  certainly  he  exists,  and  that  he  is 
something.  He  that  can  doubt  whether  he  be 
any  thing  or  not,  I  speak  not  to,  no  more  than  I 
could  argue  with,  pure  nothing,  or  endeavor  to 
convince  non-entity  that  it  were  something.  If 
any  one  pretends  to  be  so  sceptical,  as  to  deny  his 
own  existence,  (for  really  to  doubt  of  it  is  mani- 
festly impossible,)  let  him  for  me  enjoy  his  beloved 
happiness  of  being  nothing,  until  hunger,  or  some 
other  pain,  convince  him  of  the  contrary.  This 
then,  I  think,  I  may  take  for  a  truth,  which  every 
one's  certain  knowledge  assures  him  of,  beyond 
the  liberty  of  doubting,  viz.  that  he  is  something 
that  actually  exists. 

"  In  the  next  place,  man  knows  by  an  intuitive 
certainty,  that  bare  nothing  can  no  more  produce 
any  real  being,  than  it  can  be  equal  to  two  right 
angles.  If  a  man  knows  not  that  non-entity,  or 
the  absence  of  all  being,  cannot  be  equal  to  two 


It  has  been  well  observed  by  an  eminent  Chris- 
tian philosopher  of  our  limes,  that  "  in  philosophy 
equally  as  in  poetry,  genius  produces  the  strongest 
impressions  of  novelty,  while  it  rescues  the  stalest 
and  most  admitted  truths  from  the  impotence  caused 
by  the  very  circumstance  of  their  universal  admis- 
sion. Truths,  of  all  others  the  most  awful  and  mys- 
terious, yet  being  at  the  same  time  of  universal  in- 
terest, are  too  often  considered  as  so  true  that  they 
lose  all  the  powers  of  truth,  and  lie  bed-ridden  in  the 
dormitory  of  the  soul,  side  by  side  with  the  most  de- 
spised and  exploded  errors."— Friend,  vol.  i. 


right  angles,  it  is  impossible  he  should  know  any 
demonstration  in  Euclid.  If,  therefore,  we  know 
there  is  some  real  being  and  that  non-entity  can- 
not produce  any  real  being,  it  is  an  evident  de- 
monstration, that  from  eternity  there  has  been 
something  ;  since  what  was  not  from  eternity  had 
beginning;  and  what  had  a  beginning  must  be 
produced  by  something  else. 

"  Next  it  is  evident,  that  what  had  its  being  and 
beginning  from  another,  must  also  have  all  that 
which  is  in,  and  belongs  to  its  being  from  another 
too.  All  the  powers  it  has  must  be  owing  to,  and 
received  from,  the  same  source.  This  eternal 
source  then  of  all  being  must  also  be  the  source 
and  original  of  all  power  ;  and  so  this  eternal  be- 
ing must  be  also  the  most  powerftil. 

"  Again,  a  man  finds  in  himself  perception  and 
knowledge.  We  have  then  got  one  step  farther, 
and  we  are  certain  now,  that  there  is  not  only 
some  being,  but  some  knowing  intelligent  being  in 
the  world.  There  was  a  time  then,  when  there 
was  no  knowing  being,  and  when  knowledge  be- 
gan to  be  ;  or  else  there  has  been  also  a  knowing 
being  from  eternity.  If  it  be  said,  there  was  a 
time  when  no  being  had  any  knowledge,  when 
that  eternal  being  was  void  of  all  understanding  ; 
I  reply,  that  then  it  was  impossible  there  should 
ever  have  been  any  knowledge :  it  being  as  im- 
possible that  things  wholly  void  of  knowledge, 
and  operating  blindly,  and  without  any  perception, 
should  produce  a  knowing  being,  as  it  is  impossi- 
ble that  a  triangle  should  make  itself  three  angles 
bigger  than  two  right  ones.  For  it  is  as  repug- 
nant to  the  idea  of  senseless  matter,  that  it  should 
put  into  itself  sense,  perception,  and  knowledge, 
as  it  is  repugnant  to  the  idea  of  a  triangle,  that  it 
should  put  into  itself  greater  angles  than  two  right 
ones. 

"  Thus  from  the  consideration  of  ourselves,  and 
what  we  infallibly  find  in  our  own  constitutions, 
our  reason  leads  us  to  the  knowledge  of  this  cer- 
tain and  evident  truth,  that  there  is  an  eternal, 
most  powerful,  and  most  knowing  being ;  which 
whether  any  one  will  please  to  call  God,  it  matters 
not.  The  thing  is  evident,  and  from  this  idea 
duly  considered,  will  easily  be  deduced  all  those 
other  attributes,  which  we  ought  to  ascribe  to  this 
eternal  being.  If,  nevertheless,  any  one  should 
be  found  so  senselessly  arrogant  as  to  suppose 
man  alone  knowing  and  wise,  but  yet  the  pro- 
duct of  mere  ignorance  and  chance  ;  and  that  all 
the  rest  of  the  universe  acted  only  by  that  blind 
haphazard,  I  shall  leave  with  him  that  very  ra- 
tional and  emphatical  rebuke  of  Tully,  to  be  con- 
sidered at  his  leisure :  '  What  can  be  more  silldy 
arrogant  and  misbecoming,  than  for  a  man  to 
think  that  he  has  a  mind  and  understanding  in 
him,  but  yet  in  all  the  universe  beside  there  is  no 
such  thing  ?  or  that  those  things,  which  with  the 
utmost  stretch  of  his  reason  he  can  scarce  com- 
prehend shoidd  be  moved  and  managed  without 
any  reason  at  all.'  "* 


*  De  Legib.  lib.  ii.  Cicero's  words  are : — "  Quid 
est  enim  verius,  quam  neminem  esse  oportere  tarn 
stulte  arrogantem,  utinse  mentemet  rationem  putet 
inesse,  in  coelo  mundoque  non  putet  1  Aut  ea  quae 
vix  summa  ingenii  ratione  comprehendat,  nulla  ra- 
tione  moveripiuelT' 


NTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 


«  From  what  has  been  said,  it  is  plain  to  me, 
we  have  a  more  certain  knowledge  of  the  exist- 
ence of  a  God,  than  of  any  thing  our  senses  have 
not  immediately  discovered  to  us.  Nay,  I  pre- 
sume I  may  say,  that  we  more  certainly  know 
that  there  is  a  God,  than  that  there  is  any  thing 
else  without  us.  When  I  say  we  know,  I  mean 
there  is  such  a  knowledge  within  our  reach,  which 
we  cannot  miss,  if  we  will  but  apply  our  minds  to 
that,  as  we  do  to  several  other  inquiries."      , 

Much  has,  at  different  times,  been  written  on 
the  style  of  the  Essay  on  the  Human  Understand- 
ing. According  to  Dugald  Stewart,  it  resembles 
that  of  a  well-educated  man  of  the  world,  rather 
than  of  a  recluse  student,  "  who  had  made  an  ob- 
ject of  the  art  of  composition;"  from  which  it 
may  be  inferred  that,  with  Locke,  the  art  of  com- 
position had  not  formed  an  object  of  study.  But, 
whoever  shall  duly  consider  his  remarks  on  Parti- 
cles, in  the  seventh  chapter  of  the  third  book,  will 
certainly  conclude  that  no  recluse  student  could 
ever  attach  more  importance  than  he  did  to  style. 
What  his  opinion  was  of  the  language  in  use 
among  men  of  the  world,  he  has  also  taken  care, 
in  many  places,  to  express ;  more  particularly  in 
book  the  third,  chapter  the  eleventh,  where,  con- 
tending for  the  proper  use  of  words  he  says, — 
"  This  exactness  is  absolutely  necessary  in  inqui- 
ries after  philosophical  knowledge,  and  in  contro- 
versies about  truth ;  and  though  it  would  be  well, 
ton,  if  it  extended  itself  to  common  convei'sation 
and  the  ordinary  affairs  of  Hfe,  yet  I  think  that  is 
scarce  to  be  expected."  Farther  on  he  observes, 
"  that  propriety  of  speech  is  that  which  gives  our 
thoughts  entrance  into  other  men's  minds  with 
the  greatest  ease  and  advantage;"  and  to  this  he 
is  careful  to  add,  that  "  the  proper  signification 
and  use  of  terms  is  best  to  be  learned  from  those, 
who,  in  theu-  writings  and  discourses,  appear  to 
have  had  the  clearest  notions,  and  appHed  their 
terms  with  the  exactest  choice  and  fitness." — 
From  which  it  seems  evident  that  the  art  of  com- 
position commanded  no  inconsiderable  portion  of 
his  attention ;  so  that  if,  after  all,  his  style  resem- 
ble that  of  a  well-educated  man  of  the  world,  who 
had  never  regarded  language  with  a  rhetorician's 
eyes,  it  must  be  concluded  that  the  care  and  pains 
he  bestowed  on  this  part  of  his  studies  was  utterly 
thrown  away. 

Walter  Savage  Landor,  himself  a  writer  re- 
markable for  the  vigor  and  originality  of  his  lan- 
guage, runs,  in  speaking  of  Locke,  into  the  oppo- 
site extreme,  giving  his  style  the  preference  in 
comparison  with  that  of  Plato.  But  this  decision 
is  still  more  paradoxical  than  Dugald  Stewart's. 
Of  all  prose  authors,  Plato  is  perhaps  the  one  who 
lias  most  excelled  in  the  management  of  language, 
which  he  has  invested  with  every  beauty,  of  which 
it  appears  to  be  susceptible  in  unmetrical  composi- 
tion ;  his  style  successively  adapting  itself  with 
equal  facility  to  the  highest  flights  of  the  imagi- 
nation, the  most  abstruse  inquiries  in  metaphysics 
and  the  liveliest  and  homeliest  sallies  of  familiar 
badinage.  If  we  can  conceive  Shakespeare's 
language  applied  to  philosophical  investigations  in 
all  its  poetical  fervor,  power,  and  flexibility,  but 
divested  of  its  quaintness,  it  might  give  us  some 
idea,  though  still  but  a  faint  one,  of  the  splendor 
and  inexhaustible  variety  of  Plato,  which  to  those 


who  can  be  delighted  with  intellectual  beauty, 
render  the  study  of  his  writings  a  passion  and  a 
luxury.  To  pretend  to  discover  all  these  excel- 
lencies in  the  style  of  Locke  would  be  absiu-d  af- 
fectation. It  has,  however,  great  beauties ;  and 
of  these  not  the  least  is  that  admirable  perspicui- 
ty—m  Aristotle's  opinion  the  chiefest  excellency  of 
language— which  almost  always  enables  us  rapidly 
toseize  his  meaning, tven  in  those  passages  where 
the  nature  of  the  subject  might  have  appeared  to 
excuse  some  degree  of  obscurity.  There  is  be- 
sides in  most  of  his  compositions,  a  masculine 
strength,  an  earnestness,  a  warmth, — distinct  from 
the  warmth  of  passion, — arising  evidently  from 
the  force  of  his  convictions,  from  the  intimate 
persuasion  that  what  he  advances  is  based  on 
truth ;  and  the  combination  of  these  qualities, 
united  with  the  grandeur  and  importance  of  the 
ideas,  rises,  in  many  parts  of  tlie  Essay,  into  a 
noble  eloquence,  still  more  strikingly  perceptible 
in  the  "  Conduct  of  the  Understanding,"  and  the 
vehement  refutations  of  error  in  the  "  Treatise  on 
Government."  At  the  same  time  it  must  not  be 
dissembled  that  the  construction  of  his  sentences 
is  often  destitute  of  all  grace ;  and  tliat  the  pre- 
judice against  figurative  language,  which  at  one 
time  possessed  him,  led  too  frequently  to  the  em- 
ployment of  a  bald  unvivified  form  of  expression, 
wholly  incommensurate  to  the  magnitude  of  his 
ideas.  From  this  charge  Lord  Bacon  himself, — 
next  to  Milton  the  most  figurature  prose  writer  in 
our  language, — is  not  whoUy  free,  as  any  one  who 
reads  the  History  of  Henry  VII.  and  several  of 
liis  other  works,  will  perceive.  But  the  def>  ct  is 
more  apparent  in  Locke,  who  from  a  false  tlieory 
studiously,  during  many  years,  labored  to  deprive 
his  works  of  the  advantage  and  charm  derived 
from  the  judicious  use  of  tropes  and  figures. 

To  proceed,  however,  with  our  outline  of  his 
life.  "The  occupations  wliich  now  engaged  the 
attention  of  this  great  man,"  says  Lord  King,— 
"  were  of  the  most  varied  and  opposite  descrip- 
tion. He  was  at  the  same  time  a  practical  politi- 
cian, and  a  profound  speculative  philosoplier;  a 
man  of  the  world,  engaged  in  the  business  of  the 
world,  yet  combining  with  all  those  avocations  the 
purity  and  simplicity  of  a  primitive  Christian.  He 
pursued  every  subject  with  incredible  activity  and 
diligence  ;  always  regulating  his  numerous  inqui- 
ries by  the  love  of  truth,  and  directing  them  tn 
the  improvement  and  benefit  of  his  country  and 
of  mankind." 

He  now,  in  defence  of  the  rights^  of  the  people, 
published  his  work  on  Government ;  and  in  the 
foUowing  year,  1690,  a  Second  Letter  on  Tolera- 
tion, in  which  he  further  developed  the  principles 
of  religious  liberty.  About  this  time,  it  is  sup- 
posed, 1ie  became  acquainted  with  Newton,  Sir 
John  Somers,  and  the  celebrated  Eari  of  Peterbo- 
rough, with  whom,  when  cither  happened  to  be 
absent  from  London,  he  kept  up  a  regular  corres- 
pondence. With  Newton  also  he  occasionally 
corresponded ;  and  there  have  been  preserved  and 
published  several  letters  of  this  great  man,  partly 
relating  to  his  »  Account  of  the  Corruptions  oi 
Scripture,"  which  prove  at  once  tlie  irritabihty, 
goodness  of  heart,  ingenuousness,  and  constitu- 
tional timidity  of  that  Lux  altera  gnds. 

In  1691  Locke  published  his  "Considerations 


10 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


on  the  Lowering  of  Interest,"  to  which,  in  1695,  i 
further  considerations,  forming  a  second  part,  were  i 
added.  His  object,  in  this  work,  was  to  demon- 
strate the  injustice  of  raising  the  denomination  and  1 
lowering  the  standard  of  the  currency ;  and  in  tlie 
great  recoinage  of  1695  his  advice  was  followed, 
axid  the  current  money  of  the  realm  restored  to  the 
full  legal  standard.  He  at  the  same  time  antici- 
pated the  conclusion,  if  not  the  arguments,  of  Ben- 
tham,  in  his  »  Defence  of  Usury  ;"  showing  that 
all  attempts  at  regulatmg  the  rate  of  interest  in- 
crease  the  difficulty  of  borrowing,  while  they  pre- 
judice none  but  those  who  need  assistance.  He 
was  in  this  year,  rather  as  a  compliment  than  as  a 
reward  for  his  labors,  nominated  a  member  of  the 
Council  of  Trade ;  an  honor  which,  on  account  of 
his  increasing  infirmities,  he  during  the  following 
year  resigned. 

Though  the  feebleness  of  his  constitution  was 
incompatible  with  that  continued  residence  in 
London,  which  the  duties  of  a  public  office  might 
have  required,  it  seems  by  no  means  to  have  inter- 
fered with  his  literary  labors ;  for  in  1695  ap- 
peared his  "  Reasonableness  of  Christianity  ;"  and 
in  the  following  year,  his  first  and  second  Vindi- 
cations of  this  Vv'ork,  together  with  his  then  cele- 
brated letters  to  Stillingfleet,  in  defence  of  the 
Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding.  Locke  now 
resided  with  Sir  F.  and  Lady  Masham,  at  Gates, 
near  Ongar,  in  Essex  ;  where  he  enjoyed,  what 
he  appears  always  to  have  highly  valued,  the  so- 
ciety of  an  intellectual  and  fascinating  woman. 
Lady  Masham  was  the  daughter  of  Cudworth, 
author  of  the  "  Eternal  Principles  of  Morality  ;" 
and  there  liad  subsisted  for  many  years  an  inti- 
macy between  the  philosoplier  and  this  amiable 
family,  as  appears  from  a  letter  addressed,  in  1683, 
to  her  Ladyship's  brother  in  Hindoostan.  Locke's 
fondness  for  voyages  and  travels  is  well  known. 
He  in  fact  preferred  them  to  almost  every  other 
kind  of  books  ;  and,  in  this  letter,  we  find  him  in- 
quiring curiously  about  the  tricks  of  the  Indian 
jugglers,  "  which,"  says  he,  "  must  needs  be  be- 
yond legerdemain  ;"  the  notions  of  the  Brahmins, 
concerning  spirits  and  apparitions  ;  and  their  re- 
ligious opinions  and  ceremonies,  of  which  he 
had  obtained  a  tolerably  correct  idea  from  Ber- 
nier,  with  whom  he  was  personally  acquainted. 
He  also  desired  to  learn  whether  any  copies  of  the 
Old  or  New  Testament,  in  any  language,  existed 
among  the  oriental  nations  previous  to  their  com- 
munications with  Europeans,  consequent  upon  the 
discovery  of  the  passage  by  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope. 

In  this  agreeable  retirement  he  spent  the  last 
four  years  of  his  hfe,  engaged  in  the  study  of  St. 
Paul's  Epistles,  on  which  he  composed  a  com- 
mentary, published  among  his  posthumous  works. 
Though  struggHng  with  an  incurable  disease,  his 
temper  continued  calm  and  unruffled.  His  in- 
terest in  the  welfare  of  his  friends  was  unabated. 
Cheerful,  but  resigned  to  his  fate,  he  saw  death 
approach  without  perturbation  :  he  had  lived  like 
a  Christian,  and  hoped  to  meet,  in  another  world, 
with  a  Christian's  reward.  In  the  month  of  Oc- 
tober, 1704,  it  became  evident  that  his  dissolution 
was  at  hand  ;  and  on  the  27th,  Lady  Masham, 
not  meeting  with  him  in  his  study,  went  to  his 
bedside,  where  she  found  him   worn  down  and 


exhausted,  and  never  expecting  to  rise  again.  He 
told  her  hife  earthly  career  was  now  terminated, 
and  that  in  comparatively  few  Jiours  he  should  be 
no  more.  To  those  present  he  wished  all  felicity ; 
and  to  Lady  Masham,  who  lingered  in  his  cham- 
ber longer  than  the  rest,  he  expressed  his  grati- 
tude to  God  for  the  great  happiness  he  had  tasted 
in  his  life  ;  but  added  that  he  now  found  all  liere 
below  was  vanity  ;  exhorting  her  to  consider  this 
world  only  as  a  state  of  preparation  for  a  better. 
He  overruled  her  desire  to  sit  up  with  him,  obsei^v- 
ing,  that  he  might  perhaps  be  able  to  sleep,  and 
would  send  for  her,  if  any  change  should  happen. 
Continuing  awake  all  night,  however,  he  in  the 
morning  was  removed  into  his  study,  where  he 
enjoyed  a  short  sleep  in  his  chair.  He  then  de- 
sired to  be  dressed,  and  Lady  Masham  again  com- 
ing to  him  he  heard  her,  with  great  attention,  read 
a  portion  of  the  Psalms  ;  but  feeling  the  near  ap- 
proach of  death,  stopped  her,  and  a  few  minutes 
afterwards  breathed  his  last,  about  three  o'clock 
of  the  28th  of  October,  aged  seventy-two  years 
and  two  months. 

Le  Clerc,  who,  in  the  French  manner,  composed 
the  eloge  of  Locke,  concludes  it  with  the  cha- 
racter of  the  philosopher,  derived  from  a  person 
who  knew  him  well,  probably  Lady  Masham  her- 
self. This,  with  Lord  King,  we  adopt  as  a  judi- 
cious and  excellent  portraiture  of  the  man : — "  He 
was,"  says  she,  (and  I  can  confirm  her  testimony 
in  great  measure,  by  what  I  have  myself  seen  here,) 
"a  profound  philosopher,  and  a  man  fit  for  the 
most  important  aflfairs.  He  had  much  knowledge 
of  belles  lettres,  and  his  manners  were  very  polite 
and  particularly  engaging.  He  knew  something 
of  almost  every  thing  which  can  be  useful  to  man- 
kind, and  was  thoroughly  master  of  all  that  he  had 
studied  ;  but  he  showed  his  superiority  by  not  ap- 
pearing to  value  himself  in  any  way  on  account  of 
hia  great  attainments.  Nobody  assumed  less  the 
airs  of  a  master,  or  was  less  dogmatical ;  and  he 
was  never  offended  when  any  one  did  not  agree 
with  his  opinion.  There  are,  nevertheless,  a  spe- 
cies of  disputants  who,  after  having  been  refuted 
several  times,  always  return  to  the  charge,  and 
only  repeat  the  same  argument.  These  he  could 
not  endure,  and  he  sometimes  talked  of  them  with 
impatience  ;  but  he  was  the  first  to  acknowledge 
that  he  had  been  too  hasty.  In  the  most  trifling 
circumstances  of  life,  as  well  as  in  speculative  opi- 
nions, he  was  always  ready  to  be  convinced  by 
reason,  let  the  information  come  from  whomsoever 
it  might.  He  was  the  most  faithful  follower,  or 
indeed  the  slave  of  truth,  which  he  never  aban- 
doned on  any  account,  and  which  he  loved  for  its 
own  sake. 

"  He  accommodated  himself  to  the  level  of  the 
most  moderate  understandings  ;  and  in  disputing 
with  them,  he  did  not  diminisli  the  force  of  their 
arguments  against  himself,  although  they  were  not 
well  expressed  by  those  who  had  used  them.  He 
felt  pleasure  in  conversing  with  aU  sorts  of  people, 
and  tried  to  profit  by  their  information ;  which 
arose  not  only  from  the  good  education  he  had 
received,  but  from  the  opinion  he  entertained,  that 
there  was  nobody  from  whom  something  useful 
could  not  be  got.  And  indeed  by  this  means  he 
had  learned  so  many  things,  concerning  the  arts 
and  trade,  that  he  seemed  to  have  made  them  his 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


11 


particular  study ;  insomuch  that  those  whose  pro- , 
fession  they  were,  often  profited  by  his  information,  \ 
and  consulted  him  with  advantage.  Bad  manners 
particularly  annoyed  and  disgusted  him,  wlien  he  i 
saw  they  proceeded  not  from  ignorance  of  the  : 
world,  but  from  pride,  from  haughtiness,  from  iU-  i 
nature,  from  brutal  stupidity,  and  other  similar  ' 
vices ;  otherwise,  he  was  far  from  despising  whom-  j 
ever  it  might  be  for  having  a  disagreeable  appear-  i 
ance.  He  considered  civihty  not  only  as  some-  ! 
thing  agreeable  and  proper  to  gain  people's  hearts, 
but  as  a  duty  of  Christianity,  wliich  ought  to  be  i 
more  insisted  on  than  it  commonly  is.  He  recom-  i 
mended,  with  reference  to  tliis,  a  tract  of  Messrs. 
de  Port  Royal,  "  Sur  les  J.Ioyens  de  conserver  la 
Paix  avec  les  Hommes ;"  and  lie  much  approved 
tlie  sermons  he  had  heard  from  Mr.  Wliichcote,  a 
doctor  of  divinity,  on  this  subject,  and  which  have 
smce  been  printed. 

"  His  conversation  was  very  agreeable  to  all  sorts 
of  people,  and  even  to  ladies ;  and  nobody  was 
better  received  than  he  was  among  people  of  the 
highest  rank.  He  was  by  no  means  austere ;  and 
as  the  conversation  of  well-bred  people  is  usually 
more  easy,  and  less  studied  and  formal,  if  Mr. 
Locke  had  not  naturally  these  talents,  he  had  ac- 
quired them  by  mtercourse  with  the  world  :  and 
what  made  him  so  much  the  more  agreeable  was, 
that  those  who  were  not  acquainted  with  him,  did 
not  expect  to  find  such  manners  m  a  man  so  much 
devoted  to  study.  Those  who  courted  the  ac- 
quaintance of  Mr.  Locke,  to  collect  what  might  be 
learnt  from  a  man  of  Jiis  understanding,  and  who 
approached  him  with  respect,  were  surprised  to  find 
in  him  not  only  the  manners  of  a  well-bred  man, 
but  also  all  the  attention  wliich  they  could  expect. 
He  often  spoke  against  raillery,  which  is  the  most 
hazardous  part  of  conversation  if  not  managed  with 
address ;  and  though  he  excelled  m  it  himself,  he 
never  said  any  thing  which  could  shock  or  injure 
any  body.  He  knew  how  to  soften  every  thing  he 
said,  and  to  give  it  an  agreeable  turn.  If  he  joked 
his  friends,  it  was  about  a  trifimg  fault,  or  about 
something  wliich  it  was  advantageous  for  them  to 
know.  As  he  was  particularly  civil,  even  when 
he  began  to  joke,  people  were  satisfied  that  he 
would  end  by  saying  something  obliging.  He 
never  ridiculed  a  misfortune  or  any  natural  defect. 

"He  was  very  charitable  to  the  poor,  provided 
they  were  not  the  idle  or  the  profligate,  who  did  not 
frequent  any  church,  or  who  spent  their  Sundays 
in  an  ale-house.  He  felt,  above  all,  compassion  for 
those  who,  after  having  worked  hard  in  their  youth, 
sunk  into  poverty  m  their  old  age.  He  said,  that 
it  was  not  sufficient  to  keep  them  from  starving, 
but  that  they  ought  to  be  enabled  to  live  with  some 
comfort.  He  sought  opportunities  of  doing  good 
to  deserving  objects  ;  and  often  in  his  wallis  he  vi- 
sited the  poor  of  the  neighborhood,  and  gave  them 
wlierewithal  to  relieve  their  wants,  or  to  buy  tlie 
medicines  he  prescribed  for  them  if  they  were  sick, 
and  had  no  medical  aid. 

"  He  did  not  like  any  thing  to  be  wasted :  which 
was,  in  his  opinion,  losing  the  treasure  of  which 
God  had  made  us  tlie  economists.  He  himself  was 
very  regular,  and  kept  exact  accounts  of  every 
thing. 

"  If  he  had-  any  defect,  it  was  the  being  some- 
v;hai  passionate ;  but  he  had  got  the  better  of  it  by 


reason,  and  it  was  very  seldom  that  it  did  him  or 
any  one  else  any  harm.  He  often  described  the 
ridicule  of  it ;  and  said  that  it  availed  nothing  in 
the  education  of  children,  nor  in  keeping  servants 
in  order,  and  that  it  only  lessened  the  authority 
which  one  had  over  them.  He  was  kind  to  his  ser- 
vants, and  showed  them,  with  gentleness,  how  he 
wished  to  be  served.  He  not  only  kept  strictly  a 
secret  which  had  been  confided  to  him,  but  he 
never  mentioned  any  thing  which  could  prove  in- 
jurious, although  he  had  not  been  enjoined  secrecy ; 
nor  could  he  ever  wrong  a  friend  by  any  sort  of  in- 
discretion or  inadvertency.  He  was  an  exact  ob- 
server of  his  word,  and  what  he  promised  was 
sacred.  He  was  scrupulous  about  recommending 
people  whom  he  did  not  know,  and  he  could  not 
bring  himself  to  praise  tliose  whom  he  did  not 
think  worthy.  If  he  was  told  that  his  recommen- 
dations had  not  produced  the  efl'ect  wliich  was  ex- 
pected, he  said,  that  it  arose  from  his  never  having 
deceived  any  body  by  saying  more  than  he  knew, 
that  what  he  answered  for  might  be  found  as  lie 
stated  it ;  and  that,  if  he  acted  otherwise,  his  re- 
commendations would  have  no  weight. 

"  His  greatest  amusement  was  to  talk  with  sen- 
sible people,  and  he  courted  their  conversation. 
He  possessed  all  the  requisite  qualities  for  keep- 
ing up  an  agreeable  and  friendly  intercourse.  He 
only  played  at  cards  to  please  others,  although 
from  having  often  found  himself  among  people 
who  did,  he  played  well  enough,  when  he  set  about 
it ;  but  he  never  proposed  it,  and  said  it  was  only 
an  amusement  for  those  who  had  no  conversa- 
tion. 

"  In  his  habits  he  was  clean,  without  affectation 
or  smgularity :  he  was  naturally  very  active,  and 
occupied  himself  as  much  as  his  health  would  ad- 
mit of.  Sometimes  he  took  pleasure  in  working  in 
a  garden,  which  he  understood  perfectly.  He  liked 
exercise,  but  the  complaint  on  his  chest  not  allow- 
ing him  to  walk  much,  he  used  to  ride  after  din- 
ner :  when  he  could  no  longer  bear  the  motion  of 
a  horse,  he  used  to  go  out  in  a  wheel-chair ;  and 
he  always  wished  for  a  companion,  even  if  it  were 
only  a  child,  for  he  felt  pleasure  in  talking  with 
well-bred  children.  The  weak  state  of  his  health 
was  an  inconvenience  to  himself  alone,  and  occa- 
sioned no  unpleasant  sensation  to  any  one,  beyond 
that  of  seeing  him  suffer.  His  diet  was  the  same 
as  other  people's,  except  that  he  usually  drank 
nothing  but  water  ;  and  he  thought  his  abstinence 
in  this  respect  had  preserved  his  life  so  long,  al- 
though his  constitution  was  so  weak.  He  attri- 
buted to  the  same  cause  the  preservation  of  his 
sight,  which  was  not  much  impaired  at  the  end  of 
his  life  ;  for  he  could  read  by  candle-light  all  sorts 
of  books,  unless  the  print  was  very  small,  and  he 
never  made  use  of  spectacles.  He  had  no  other 
infirmity  but  his  asthma,  except  that  four  years 
before  his  death  lie  hecame  very  deaf,  during  a 
period  of  about  six  months.  Finding  himself  thus 
deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  conversation,  lie  doubt- 
ed whether  blindness  was  not  preferable  to  deaf- 
ness, as  he  wrote  to  one  of  his  friends;  othcr- 
wi^e  he  bore  his  infirmities  very  patiently.''- 
"  This,"  as  Le  Clerc  says,  "  is  an  accurate,  and 
by  no  means  a  flattered  description  of  this  great 
man." 

The  views  which  Locke,  after  a  patient  and  la- 


12 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


boriouB  examination  of  the  Scriptures,  was  led  to 
take  of  some  of  the  leading  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tianity, appear  to  have  been  substantially  the  same 
as  those  of  Milton  and  Sir  Isaac  Newton.  Truth 
was,  on  all  occasions,  the  object  of  his  researches : 
he  valued  it  above  aU  things  ;  and  the  diligence 
of  his  inquiries  was  proportioned  to  the  import- 
ance of  their  aim.  But,  that  he  should  always 
have  attained  to  the  knowledge  of  truth,  who 
shall  affirm]  particularly  on  those  awful  subjects 
where  the  vast  interests  every  man  has  at  stake 
render  it  incumbent  on  him  to  trust  the  decisions 
of  no  judgment  but  his  own  ;  which,  considering 
the  natural  inequalities  discoverable  in  human  in- 
tellect, and  the  wonderful  diversities  of  human 
character,  must  necessarily  give  rise  to  error ; 
though  doubtless  the  sincere  seeker  will  always 
find  so  much  of  truth  as  may  be  necessary  to  his 
eternal  salvation.  "  A  holy  life,"  says  Jeremy 
Taylor,  "  will  make  our  belief  holy,  if  we  consult 
not  humanity  and  its  imperfections  in  the  choice 
of  our  religion,  but  search  for  truth  without  de- 
signs, save  only  of  acquiring  heaven,  and  then  be 
as  careful  to  preserve  charity,  as  we  are  to  get 
a  point  of  faith.  I  am  much  persuaded  we  should 
find  out  more  trutlis  by  this  means ;  or  however 
(which  is  the  main  of  all)  we  shall  be  secured 
though  we  miss  them;  and  then  we  are  well 
enough."* 

This  was  the  course  pursued  by  Locke  in  com- 
posing the  Reasonableness  of  Christianity.  He 
had  discovered  the  inconsistencies  and  unsatisfacj 
toriness  of  the  ordinary  systems  of  divinity  ;  am 
not  to  consult  "  humanity  and  its  imperfectii 
in  the  choice  of  his  religion,  he  betook  himself  to 
the  dihgent  study  of  the  Scriptures,  which  he 
found  to  contain  doctrines  clear  and  intelligible, 
and  adapted  to  the  apprehension  of  the  bulk  of 
mankind.  From  the  title  and  general  tone  of  the 
work,  we  should  have  inferred  tiiat  it  was  chiefly 
addressed  to  those  professors  of  Christianity  who 
overlook  its  precepts  to  dwell  upon  its  mysteries, 
and  seem  desirous  of  setting  faith  and  reason  in 
opposition  to  each  other ;  who  think  they  can 
never  have  enough  to  believe,  though  far  too 
much  to  practice  ;  who,  confident  in  ther  imagin- 
ed strength,  rush  in  "  where  angel's  fear  to  tread  ;" 
enter  dogmatically  into  the  secret  designs  and 
purposes  of  God  ;  rashly  seek  to  lift  the  veil  from 
those  things  which  "  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear 
heard,  nor  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man 
to  conceive ;"  and,  not  even  yet  content,  set  them- 
selves up  as  infalUble  in  their  way,  and  require  all 
men  to  adopt  their  opinions,  and  hazard  their  sal- 
vation on  the  soundness  of  their  judgments.  This 
is  what,  from  a  perusal  of  the  work,  we  should 
have  supposed.  But,  in  the  preface  to  the  Second 
Vindication,  Locke  himself  gives  us  the  history  of 
the  book,  and  an  explanation  of  his  views  in  com- 
posing it.  Addressing  himself  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Bold,  who,  without  being  personally  acquainted 
with  him,  had  undertaken  his  defence,  he  says : 
— "  Since  you  seem  to  me  to  comprehend  what  I 
have  laid  together,  with  the  same  disposition  of 
mind,  and  in  the  same  sense  that  I  received  it 
from  the  holy  Scriptures,  I  shall,  as  a  mark  of 


Liberty  of  Prophesying,  p.  5. 


my  respect  to  you,  give  you  a  particular  account  of 
the  occasion  of  it. 

"  The  beginning  of  the  year  in  which  it  was 
published,  the  controversy  that  made  so  much 
noise  and  heat  amongst  some  of  the  Dissenters, 
coming  one  day  accidentally  into  my  mind,  drew 
me,  by  degrees,  into  a  stricter  and  more  thorough 
inquiry  into  the  question  about  justification.  The 
Scripture  was  direct  and  plain  ;  and  it  was  faith 
that  justified :  the  next  question  then  was,  What 
faith  that  was  that  justified  ;  what  it  was  which, 
if  a  man  believed,  it  should  be  imputed  to  him  for 
righteousness  ?  To  find  out  this,  I  thought  the 
right  way  was,  to  search  the  Scriptures ;  and 
thereupon  betook  myself  seriously  to  the  read- 
ing of  the  New  Testament,  only  to  that  pur- 
pose. What  that  produced,  you  and  the  world 
have  seen. 

"  The  first  view  I  had  of  it  seemed  mightily  to 
satisfy  my  mind,  in  the  reasonableness  and  plain- 
ness of  this  doctrine  ;  but  yet  the  general  silence 
I  had  in  my  httle  reading  met  with,  concerning 
any  such  thing,  awed  me  with  apprehension  of 
singtilarity,  till  going  on  in  the  gospel  history,  the 
whole  tenor  of  it  made  it  so  clear  and  visible, 
that  I  more  wondered  that  every  body  did  not  see 
and  embrace  it,  than  that  I  should  assent  to  what 
was  so  plainly  laid  down,  and  so  frequently  incul- 
cated in  holy  writ,  though  systems  of  divinity 
said  nothing  of  it.  That  which  added  to  my  sa- 
tisfaction was,  that  it  led  me  into  a  discovery  of 
tJw-lSSJyellous  and  divine  wisdom  of  our  Saviour's 
conductJ  in  aU  the  circumstances  of  his  promul- 
£aXingAhis  doctrine  ;  as  well  as  of  the  necessity 
tHaT  such  a  lawgiver  should  be  sent  from  God  for 
the  reforming  the  morality  of  the  world ;  two 
points  that,  I  must  confess,  I  had  not  found  so 
fully  and  advantageously  explained  in  the  books 
of  divinity  I  had  met  with,  as  the  history  of  the 
gospel  seemed  to  me,  upon  an  attentive  perusal, 
to  give  occasion  and  matter  for.  But  the  neces- 
sity and  wisdom  of  our  Saviour's  opening  the  doc- 
trine (which  he  came  to  publish)  as  he  did,  in 
parables  and  figurative  ways  of  speaking,  carries 
such  a  thread  of  evidence  through  the  whole  his- 
tory of  the  evangelists,  as  I  think  is  impossible  to 
be  resisted ;  and  makes  it  a  demonstration,  that 
the  sacred  historians  did  not  write  by  concert,  as 
advocates  for  a  bad  cause,  or  to  give  colour  and 
credit  to  an  imposture,  they  would  usher  into  the 
world ;  since  they,  every  one  of  them,  in  some 
place  or  other,  omit  some  passages  of  our  Savi- 
our's life,  or  circumstances  of  his  actions,  which 
show  the  wisdom  and  wariness  of  his  conduct ; 
and  which  even  those  of  the  evangelists  who  have 
recorded,  do  barely  and  transiently  mention,  with- 
out laying  any  stress  on  them,  or  making  the  least 
remark  of  what  consequence  they  are,  to  give  us 
our  Saviour's  true  character,  and  to  prove  the 
truth  of  their  history.  These  are  evidences  of 
truth  and  sincerity,  which  result  alone  from  the 
nature  of  things,  and  cannot  be  produced  by  any 
art  or  contrivance. 

"  How  much  I  was  pleased  with  the  growing 
discovery,  every  day,  wJiilst  I  was  employed  in 
this  search,  I  need  not  say.  The  wonderful  har- 
mony, that  the  farther  I  went  disclosed  itself,  tend- 
ing to  the  same  points,  in  all  the  parts  of  the  sacred 
history  of  the  gospel,  was  of  no  small  weight  with 


INTRODUCTORY   ESSAY. 


13 


me  and  another  person,  who,  every  day,  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end  of  my  search,  saw  the  pro- 
gress of  it,  and  knew  at  my  first  setting  out  that 
I  was  ignorant  whither  it  would  lead  me  ;  and 
therefore,  every  day,  asked  me,  what  more  the 
Scripture  had  taught  me  1  So  far  was  I  from  the 
thoughts  of  Socinianism,  or  an  intention  to  write 
for  that  or  any  other  party,  or  to  publish  any  thing 
at  all.  But  when  I  had  gone  through  the  whole, 
and  saw  what  a  plain,  simple,  reasonable  thing 
Christianity  was,  suited  to  all  conditions  and  ca- 
pacities ;  and  in  tlie  morality  of  it  now,  with  di- 
vine authority,  established  into  a  legible  law,  so 
far  surpassing  all  that  philosophy  and  human  rea- 
son had  attained  to,  or  could  possibly  make  effec- 
tual to  all  degrees  of  mankind,  I  was  flattered  to 
think  it  might  be  of  some  use  in  the  world  ;  espe- 
cially to  those  who  thought  either  that  there  was 
no  need  of  revelation  at  all,  or  that  the  revelation 
of  our  Saviour  required  the  belief  of  such  articles 
for  salvation,  which  the  settled  notions  and  their 
way  of  reasoning  in  some,  and  want  of  under- 
standing in  others,  made  impossible  to  them. 
Upon  these  two  topics  the  objections  seemed  to 
turn,  which  were  with  most  assurance  made  by 
Deists  against  Christianity ;  but  against  Christia- 
nity misunderstood.  It  seemed  to  me,  that  there 
needed  no  more  to  show  them  the  weakness  of 
their  exceptions,  but  to  lay  plainly  before  them  the 
doctrine  of  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles,  as  deli- 
vered in  the  Scriptures,  and  not  as  taugat  by  the 
several  sects  of  Christians," 


The  reader,  acquainted  with  the  circumstances 
of  the  philosopher's  life,  aware  of  the  extent  of  his 
knowledge,  the  brilliance  of  his  genius,  the  singu- 
lar vigor  and  keenness  of  his  judgment,  his  love 
of  truth,  and  indefatigable  diligence  in  the  search 
of  it,  may  now  proceed  with  confidence  to  the 
study  of  the  Reasonableness  of  Christianity.  He 
wUl  find  in  the  language  a  plainness  and  simpli- 
city reflected  fi-om  the  Scriptures  themselves.  No 
opinion  is  advanced  but  what  seems  based  on 
some  text :  no  fine-spun  inferences  are  drawn 
fi-om  doubtful  expressions.  The  discourses  of 
Christ  and  his  apostles,  as  far  as  possible  accord- 
ing to  the  order  of  time,  are  examined,  compared, 
and  explained,  sometimes  from  the  circumstances 
under  which  they  were  delivered,  sometimes  from 
their  reference  to  the  general  scheme  of  Christi- 
anity, but  always  without  any  attempt  at  straining 
their  meaning,  or  any  of  those  disingenuous  arts 
common  among  the  franiers  of  systems.  Occa- 
sionally, indeed,  he  appears  to  mistake  the  inten- 
tion of  Scripture  :  but,  not  being  sure  of  our  ovvti 
interpretation,  it  would  be  presumption  to  decide 
he  must  every  where  be  wrong  where  we  think 
him  so  ;  though  we  claim  for  ourselves  the  liberty 
he  demanded,  to  examine  his  examination,  and 
draw  our  own  conclusions. 


J.  A.  St.  J. 


LoTidon,  December,  1835. 


13 


(17) 


THE   REASONABLENESS   OF   CHRISTIANITY. 


The  little  satisfaction  and  consistency  that  is  to 
be  found  in  most  of  the  systems  of  divinity  I  have 
met  with,  made  me  betake  myself  to  the  sole  read- 
ing of  the  Scripture  (to  which  they  all  appeal)  for 
the  understanding-  the  Christian  rehgion.  Wliat 
from  thence,  by  an  attentive  and  unbiassed  search 
I  have  received,  reader,  I  here  deliver  to  thee. 
If  by  this  my  labor  thou  receivest  any  light  or  con- 
firmation in  the  truth,  join  with  me  in  thanks  to 
the  Father  of  Lights,  for  his  condescension  to  our 
imderstandings.  If,  upon  a  fair  and  unprejudiced 
examination,  thou  findest  I  have  mistaken  the 
sense  and  tenor  of  the  gospel,  I  beseech  theo,  as 
a  true  Christian,  in  the  spirit  of  the  gospel  (which 
is  that  of  charity)  and  in  the  words  of  sobriety,  set 
me  right  in  the  doctrine  of  salvation. 

1.  It  is  obvious  to  any  one  v.'ho  reads  the  New 
Testament,  that  the  doctrine  of  redemption,  and 
consequently  of  the  gospel,  is  founded  upon  the 
supposition  of  Adam's  fall.  To  understand,  there- 
fore, what  we  are  restored  to  by  Jesus  Christ,  we 
must  consider  wliat  the  Scripture  shows  we  lost 
by  Adam.  This  I  thought  worthy  of  a  dihgent 
and  unbiassed  search  ;  since  I  found  the  two  ex- 
tremes that  men  run  into  on  this  point,  either  on 
the  one  hand  shook  the  foundations  of  all  religion, 
or  on  the  other  made  Christianity  almost  nothing. 
For  whilst  some  men  would  have  all  Adam's  pos- 
terity doomed  to  eternal  infinite  punishment,  for 
tlie  transgression  of  Adam,  whom  mOlions  had 
never  heard  of,  and  no  one  had  authorized  to 
transact  for  him,  or  be  his  representative  ;  this 
seemed  to  others  so  little  consistent  with  the  jus- 
tice or  goodness  of  the  great  and  infinite  God, 
that  they  thought  there  was  no  redemption  ne- 
cessary, and  consequently  that  there  was  none, 
rather  than  admit  of  it  upon  a  supposition  so  de- 
rogatory to  the  hoiior  and  attributes  of  that  Infi- 
nite Being ;  and  so  made  Jesus  Christ  nothing 
but  the  restorer  and  preacher  of  pure  natural  reli- 
gion ;  thereby  doing  violence  to  the  whole  tenor 
of  the  New  Testament :  and,  indeed,  both  sides 
will  be  suspected  to  have  trespassed  this  way, 
agauist  the  written  word  of  God,  by  any  one  who 
does  but  take  it  to  be  a  collection  of  writings  de- 
signed by  God  for  the  instruction  of  the  illiterate 
bdk  of  mankind  in  the  way  to  salvation  ;  and 
therefore  generally  and  in  necessary  points  to  be 
understood  in  the  plain  direct  meaning  of  the 
words  and  phrases,  such  as  they  may  be  supposed 
to  have  had  in  the  mouths  of  the  speakers,  who 
used  them  according  to  the  language  of  that  time 
and  country  wherein  they  lived,  without  such 
learned,  artificial,  and  forced  senses  of  ihem  as 
are  sought  out,  and  put  upon  them  in  most  of  the 
systems  of  divinity,  according  to  the  notions  that 
each  one  has  been  bred  up  in. 


2.  To  one  that  thus  unbiassed  reads  the  Scrip, 
tures,  what  Adam  fell  from,  is  visible,  was  the 
state  of  perfect  obedience,  whicli  is  called  justice 
in  the  New  Testament,  though  the  word  which  hi 
the  original  signifies  justice,  be  translated  riglite- 
oiisness :  and  by  this  fall  he  lost  paradise,  wherein 
was  tranquillity  and  the  tree  of  life  ;  that  is,  he 
lost  bhss  and  immortality.  The  penalty  annexed 
to  the  breach  of  the  law,  with  the  sentence  pro- 
nounced by  God  upon  it,  shows  this.  The  penalty 
stands  thus  :  "  In  the  day  that  thou  eatest  thereof 
thou  sJialt  surely  die."  How  was  this  e^fecuted  ? 
He  did  eat ;  but  in  the  day  he  did  eat,  he  did  not 
actually  die,  but  was  turned  out  of  paradise  from 
the  tree  of  life,  and  sliut  out  for  ever  from  it,  lest 
he  should  take  thereof  and  live  for  ever.  This 
shows  that  the  state  of  paradise  was  a  state  of 
immortality,  of  life  without  end,  which  he  lost  that 
very  day  that  he  eat.*    His  life  began  from  thence 


*  The  question  here  discussed  is  one  upon  which 
the  varieties  of  opinion  are  ahnost  a?  numerous  as 
the  persons  who  have  treated  of  it.  Milton,  whose 
theoretical  notions  underwent,  in  the  course  of  his 
life,  numerous  alterations,  always  tending  from  the 
more  fanatical  to  the  less,  evidently,  when  he  wrote 
the  Doctrine  and  Discipline  of  Divorce,  knew  not 
what  to  think  of  the  state  into  which  Adam  fell  by 
his  transgression  ;  but,  like  the  erring  spirits, 

"  Reasoned  high 
Of  fate,  free-will,  foreknowledge  absolute, 
And  found  no  end,  in  wandering  mazes  lost." 

"  The  Jesuits,"  he  says,  "  and  that  sect  among  us 
which  is  named  of  Arminius,  are  wont  to  accuse 
us,"  (he  was  now  a  Presbyterian,)  "  of  making  God 
the  author  of  sin,  in  two  degrees  especially,  not  to 
speak  of  his  permission  :  first,  because  we  hold,  that 
he  hath  decreed  some  to  damnation,  and  con.se- 
quently  to  sin,  say  they ;  next,  because  those  means, 
which  are  of  saving  knowledge  to  others,  he  makes 
to  them  an  occasion  of  greater  sin.  Yet,  consider- 
ing the  perfection  wherein  man  was  created,  and 
viight  have  stood,  ow  decree  necessitating  Ms  free-will, 
but  subsequent,  though  not  in  time,  yet  in  order  to 
causes  which  were  in  his  own  power  ;  they  might, 
methinks,  be  persuaded  to  absolve  both  God  and  us. 
Whenas  the  doctrine  of  Plato  and  Chrysippus,  with 
their  followers,  the  Academics  and  the  Stoics,  knew 
not  what  a  consummate  and  most  adorned  Pandora 
was  bestowed  upon  Adam  to  be  the  nurse  and  guide 
of  his  arbitrary  happiness  and  perseverance ;  I  mean 
his  native  innocence  and  perfection,  which  might 
have  kept  him  from  being  our  true  Epimetheus; 
and  though  they  taught  of  virtue  and  vice  to  be  both 
the  gift  of  divine  destiny,  they  could  yet  give  rea- 
sons not  invalid,  to  justify  the'councils  of  (3od  and 
fate  from  the  insulsity  of  mortal  tongues :  that  man's 
own  free-will,  self-corrupted,  is  the  adequate  and 
sufficient  cause  of  his  disobedience  besides  fate  ;  as 


16 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


to  shorten  and  waste,  and  to  have  an  end  ;  and 
from  thence  to  his  actual  death,  was  but  like  the 
time  of  a  prisoner  between  the  sentence  passed 
and  the  execution,  which  was  in  view  and  cer- 
tain ;  death  then  entered  and  showed  his  face, 
which  before  was  shut  out  and  not  known.  So 
St.  Paul,  "  By  one  man  sin  entered  into  the  world, 
and  death  by  sin  ;"*  that  is  a  state  of  death  and 
mortality :  and,  "  in  Adam  all  die  ;"f  that  is,  by 
reason  of  his  transgression  all  men  are  mortal,  and 
come  to  die. 

3.  This  is  so  clear  in  these  cited  places,  and  so 
much  the  current  of  the  New  Testament,  that  no- 
body can  deny,  but  that  the  doctrine  of  the  gospel 
is,  that  death  came  on  all  men  by  Adam's  sin  ; 
only  they  differ  about  the  signification  of  the  word 
death.  For  some  will  have  it  to  be  a  state  of 
guilt,  wherein  not  only  he  but  all  his  posterity  was 
so  involved,  that  every  one  descended  of  him  de- 
served endless  torment  in  hell-fire.  I  shall  say 
nothing  more  here,  how  far,  in  the  apprehensions 
of  men,  this  consists  with  the  justice  and  goodness 
of  God,  having  mentioned  it  above  :  but  it  seems 
a  strange  way  of  understanding  a  law  which  re- 
quires the  plainest  and  directest  words,  that  by 
death  should  be  meant  eternal  life  in  misery. — 
Could  any  one  be  supposed  by  a  law  that  says, 
"  for  felony  thou  shalt  die,"  not  that  he  should  lose 
his  Hfe,  but  be  kept  alive  in  perpetual  exquisite  tor- 
ments ]  And  would  any  one  think  himself  fairly 
dealt  with,  that  was  so  used  ? 

4.  To  this  they  would  have  it  be  also  a  state  of 
necessary  sinning,  and  provoking  God  in  every 
action  that  men  do :  a  yet  harder  sense  of  the 
word  death  than  the  other.  God  says,  "  That  in 
the  day  that  thou  eatest  of  the  forbidden  fruit, 
thou  shalt  die  ;''  that  is,  thou  and  thy  posterity 
shall  be  ever  after  incapable  of  doing  any  thing, 
but  what  shall  be  sinful  and  provoking  to  me,  and 
shall  justly  deserve  my  wrath  and  indignation. — 
Could  a  worthy  man  be  supposed  to  put  such 
terms  upon  the  obedience  of  his  subjects  ]  Much 
less  can  the  righteous  God  be  supposed,  as  a  pun- 
ishment of  one  sin  wherewith  he  is  displeased,  to 
put  a  man  under  a  necessityof  sinning  continually 
and  so  multiplying  the  provocation.  The  reason 
of  this  strange  interpretation  we  shall  perhaps  find 
in  some  mistaken  places  of  the  New  Testament. 
1  must  confess,  by  death  here  I  can  understand 
nothing  but  a  ceasing  to  be,  the  losing  of  all  ac- 
tions of  life  and  sense.  Such  a  death  came  on 
Adam  and  all  his  posterity,  by  his  first  disobe- 
dience in  paradise ;  under  which  death  they 
should  have  lain  for  ever,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
redemption  by  Jesus  Christ.  If  by  death  threat- 
ened to  Adam  were  meant  the  corruption  of  hu- 


Homer  also  wanted  not  to  express,  both  in  his  Iliad 
and  Odyssey.  And  Manilius  the  poet,  although  in 
his  fourth  book  he  tells  of  some  '  created  both  to  sin 
and  punishment;'  yet  without  murmuring,  and  with 
an  industrious  cheerfulness,  he  acquits  the  Deity." 
Book  i.  eh.  3.  And  so  Manilius  mi^ht  well  do,  be- 
cause the  pagan  notions  of  deity  and  fate  were  most 
obscure  and  confused;  for,  to  those  best  acquainted 
with  ancient  philosophy,  it  will,  [  doubt  not,  appear, 
that  what  they  called  fate,  we  call  God,  their  reveal- 
ed separate  divinities  being  only  the  high  ministers 
of  this  sovereign  power  of  the  universe. — Ed. 
*  Rom.  V.  12.  i  1  Cor.  xv.  22. 


man  nature  in  his  postsrity  it  is  strange  that  the 
New  Testament  should  not  any  where  take  notice 
of  it,  and  tell  us,  that  corruption  seized  on  all  be- 
cause of  Adam's  transgression,  as  well  as  it  tells 
us  so  of  death.  But,  as  I  remember,  every  one's 
sin  is  charged  upon  himself  only. 

5.  Another  part  of  the  sentence  was,  '  Cursed 
is  the  ground  for  thy  sake  ;  in  sorrow  shalt  thou 
eat  of  it  all  the  days  of  thy  life ;  in  the  sweat  of 
thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread,  tiU  thou  return  unto 
the  groimd  ;  for  out  of  it  wast  thou  taken :  dust 
thou  art,  and  to  dust  shalt  thou  return.'  This 
shows  that  paradise  was  a  place  of  bliss  as  well 
as  immortality,  without  tod  and  without  sorrow. 
But  when  man  was  turned  out,  he  was  exposed  to 
the  toil,  anxiety,  and  frailties  of  this  mortal  life, 
which  should  end  in  the  dust,  out  of  which  he  was 
made,  and  to  which  he  should  return  ;  and  then 
have  no  more  life  or  sense  than  the  dust  had,  out 
of  which  he  was  made. 

6.  As  Adam  was  turned  out  of  paradise,  so  all 
his  posterity  was  born  out  of  it ;  out  of  the  reach 
of  the  tree  of  life.  All,  like  their  father  Adam, 
in  a  state  of  mortality,  void  of  the  tranquillity 
and  bliss  of  paradise.  "  By  one  man  sin  entered 
into  the  world,  and  death  by  sin."  But  here  will 
occur  the  common  objection,  that  so  many  stumble 
at: — How  doth  it  consist  with  the  justice  and 
goodness  of  God,  that  the  posterity  of  Adam 
should  suffer  for  his  sin ;  the  innocent  be  punished 
for  the  gmlty  1  Very  well,  if  keeping  one  from 
what  he  has  no  right  to,  be  called  a  punishment. 
The  state  of  immortality  in  paradise  is  not  due 
to  the  posterity  of  Adam  more  than  to  any  other 
creature.  Nay,  if  God  afford  them  a  temporary 
mortal  Hfe,  it  is  his  gift,  they  owe  it  to  his  bounty, 
they  could  not  claim  it  as  their  right,  nor  does  he  - 
injure  them  when  he  takes  it  from  them.  «  Had 
he  taken  from  mankind  any  thing  that  was  their 
right;  or  did  he  put  men  in  a  state  of  misery 
worse  thaa  not  being,  without  any  fault  or  dement 
of  their  own  ;  this,  indeed,  would  be  hard  to  re- 
concile with  the  notion  we  have  of  justice,  and 
much  more  with  the  goodness  and  other  attributes 
of  the  Supreme  Being,  which  he  has  declared  of 
himself,  and  reason  as  well  as  revelation  must  ac- 
knowledge to  be  in  him ;  unless  we  will  confound 
good  and  evd,  God  and  Satan.  That  such  a 
state  of  extreme  irremediable  torment  is  worse 
than  no  being  at  all,  if  every  one's  sense  did  not 
determine  agamst  the  vain  philosophy,  and  foolish 
metaphysics  of  some  men  ;*  yet  our   Saviour's 

*To  what  metaphysicians  he  alludes  I  am  igno- 
rant ;  but  though,  once  born  and  conscious  of  exist- 
ence, we  all  vehemently  abhor  to  leave  "the  warm 
precincts  of  the  cheerful  day,"  and  lie  for  ever  in 
"  cold  obstruction"  and  Lethean  sleep,  we  must 
doubtless  humbly  acquiesce  in  the  truth  and  wisdom 
of  our  Saviour's  decision.  Our  feelings,  however, 
on  the  subject,  depend  greatly  on  our  personal  cha- 
racter. Moloch,  a  fierce  and  savage  spirit,  covets 
annihilation  :— 

"  What  doubt  we  to  incense 

His  utmost  ire  1  which  to  the  height  enraged, 

Will  cither  quite  consume  us,  and  reduce 

To  nothing  this  essential,  happier  far 

Tha,n  miserable  to  have  eternal  being : 

Or  if  our  substance  be  indeed  divine, 

And  cannot  cease  to  be,  we  are  at  worst 

On  this  side  nothing." 


THE    REASONABLENESS  OP    CHRISTIANITY. 


17 

peremptory  decision  has  put  it  past  doubt,  that  I  the   r^iiii^i^^^      ThZT^hl  TV 

one  may^be  .n  such  an  estate,  that  h  had  ^been  i  death,  wh^chX  J^^j  SiTSfd  h^ 

er,  as  appears  by  St. 


"better  for  hin.  not  to  have  been  born."  But  thai ;  co  t  nu;d  ^de   ^t' for  ev 
such  a  temporary  life  as  we  now  have,  with  all  its  i  Paul's  pro-,  "n„l:!!!L„'.!\ 
trailties  and  ordmary  miseries,  is  better  than  no 
bemg,  IS  evident  by  the  high  value  we  put  upon  it !  stored  to 


ourselves.     And  therefore  though  all  die  in  Adam„|  may  none  of  them  lo^e 
,.«  tv..i„  —wished  but  for  their  •  " 

to  every  one — how  1 


ul's  argumg  concerning  the  resurrection.' 
J.  And  thus  men  are  by  the  second  Adam  re- 
fe  agam  ;  that  so 


ny  Adam's  sin  thev 

yet  none  are  truiy'puni^heriuVfoP'lheirZ;^!  ^wj;  ri^hLoLn^^^^^  "'^'^'^  ^^  »'-*' 

deeds.     God  will  render  to  everv  one-how  /  V  '  Zi"."°f  lT"!f  i^'L'^'.J?'^    ''^.^^  ^  title  to.  For 


cording  to  his  deeds.     "  To  those  that  obey  un 
righteousness,  indignation  and  wrath,  tribulation  I  to  eternal  life 
and  anguish  upon  every  soul 
evil  " 


rigliteousness,  or  an  exact  obedience  to  the  law. 

seems  by  the  Scripture  to  have  a  claim  of  right 

To  Jiim  that  worketh,"  i.  e.  does 


?uisn  upon  every  soul  of  man  that  doth    the  works  of  the  lavv,  « is  tirreward  nni  v  A       , 


himself,  who  knew  for  what  lie  should  condemn  just,  they  shaU  n( 
men  at  the  last  day,  assures  us,  in  the  two  places  ■" 
where  he  describes  his  proceeding  at  the  great 
judgment,  that  the  sentence  of  condemnation 
passes  only  on  the  workers  of  iniquity,  such  as 
neglected  to  fulfil  the  law  in  acts  of  charity.*— 
And  again  our  Saviour  tells  the  Jews,  "tliat  all 
shall  come  forth  of  their  graves  ;  they  that  have 
done  good,  to  the  resurrection  of  life,  and  they 
that  have  done  evil,  unto  the  resurrection  of  dam- 
nation." But  here  is  no  condemnation  of  any 
one,  for  what  his  forefather  Adam  had  done,  which 
It  is  not  likely  should  have  been  omitted,  if  that 
should  have  been  a  cause  why  any  one  was  ad- 
judged to  the  fire  with  the  devil  and  his  angels.— 
And  he  tells  his  disciples,  that  when  he  "comes 
agam  with  his  angels  in  the  glory  of  his  Father, 
"  that  then  he  will  render  to  every  one  according 
to  his  works."  ^ 


all  his  posterity  born  out  of  it,  the  consequence  of 
It  was,  that  all  men  should  die,  and  remain  under 
death  for  ever,  and  so  be  utterly  lost. 
8.  From  this  estate  of  death  Jesus  Christ  re- 


postenty  of  Adam  were 
not  lose  the  reward  of  it,— eternal 
hfe  and  bliss,— by  being  his  mortal  issue  :  Christ 
will  bring  them  all  to  life  again ;  and  then  they 
shall  be  put  every  one  upon  his  own  trial,  and  re- 
ceive judgment,  as  he  is  found  to  be  righteous  or 

not :  and  the  righteous,  as  our  Saviour  says 

"shall  go  into  eternal  life."  Nor  shall  any  one 
miss  It,  who  has  done  what  our  Saviour  directed 
the  lawyer,  who  asked,  "  What  he  should  do  to 
inherit  eternal  life 7"  "  Do  this,"  that  is,  what  ia 
required  by  the  law,  "and  thou  shalt  live." 

10.  On  the  other  side,  it  seems  the  unalterable 
purpose  of  the  divine  justice,  that  no  unrighteous 
person,  no  one  that  is  guilty  of  any  breach  of  the 
law,  should  be  in  paradise  ;  but  that  the  wages  of 
sin  should  be  to  every  man,  as  it  was  to  Adam,  an 
exclusion  of  him  out  of  that  happy  state  of  im- 
mortality, and  brmg  death  upon  him.     And  this  is 

conformable  to  the  eternal  and  established  law 


l\A'l'^_'?J?.^'"«  ^^"^  turned  out  of  paradise,  andjof  right  and  wrong,  that  it  is  spoken  of  too  as  if 

it  could  not  be  otherwi.«e.     St.  James  says,  "  Sin, 


when  it  is  finished,  bringeth  forth  death," 
were  by  a  natural  and  necessary  production. 
11.  "  Sill  entered  into  the  world,  and  death  by 


stores  all  mankind  to  lire  :  «  as  m  Adam  all  die,  sin,"  says  St.  Paul;  and,  "the  wages  of  sm  is 
so  m  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive.".  How  this  |  death."  Death  is  the  purchase  of  any,  of  every 
sliall  be,  the  same  apostle  tells  us  in  the  foregoing  I  sin.     "  Cursed  is  every  one  who  continueth  not  iii 


verse  :  "  By  man  death  came,  by  man  also  came 
the  resurrection  from  the  dead."  Whereby  it  ap- 
pears, that  the  life  which  Jesus  Christ  restores  to 
all  men,  is  that  life  which  they  receive  again  at 


But  Behal,  finding,  even  in  the  midst  of  torment, 
some  solace  from  meditation  and  conjectures  at  the 
endless  future,  entertains  other  opinions: 

"  We  must  exasperate 
Th'  Almighty  victor  to  spend  all  his  rage, 

'     And  that  must  end  us,  that  must  be  our  cure 
To  be  710  more  .-—sad  cure  !  For  who  ivotdd  lose, 
Though  full  of  pain,  this  hUelledual  beins, 
Those  thcntghts  that  wander  through  cternitii  t 
To  perish  rather,  swallowed  up  and  lost    "  " 
In  the  wide  womb  of  uncreated  night 
Devoid  of  sense  and  motion  1"  ' 

^yoD:  in  one  of  his  gloomy  moods,  agrees  with 

"  Count  o'er  the  joys  thine  hours  have  seen 
Count  o'er  thy  days  from  anguish  free, 
And  know,  whatever  thou  hast  been, 
'  'As  something  better  not  to  fe."— Euthanasia 

[Ed. 
*  Matt.  vii.  23;  Luke  xiii.  27;  Matt.  xxy.  42. 


all  things  which  arc  written  in  the  book  of  the  law 
to  do  them."|  And  of  this  St.  James  gives  a 
reason  :  "  Whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law, 
and  yet  oflFend  in  one  point,  he  is  guilty  of  all :  for 
he  that  said.  Do  not  commit  adultery,  said  also, — 
Do  not  kill :"  that  is,  he  that  ofll;nd"s  in  any  one 
point,  sins  against  the  authority  which  established 
the  law. 

12.  Here  then  we  have  the  standing  and  fixed 
measures  of  life  and  death.  Immortality  and  bliss 
belong  to  the  righteous  ;  those  who  have  lived  in 
an  exact  conformity  to  the  law  of  God,  are  out 
of  the  reach  of  death  :  but  an  exclusion  from  pa- 
radise, and  loss  of  immortality,  is  the  portion  of 
sinners  ;  of  all  those  who  have  any  way  broke 
that  law,  and  failed  of  a  complete  obedience  to  it 
by  the  guilt  of  any  one  transgression.  And  thus 
mankind,  by  the  law,  are  put  upon  the  issues  of 
life  or  death  ;  as  they  are  righteous  or  unrighte- 
ous, just  or  unjust ;  that  \s,  exact  performers,  or 
transgressors  of  the  law,   ^. 

13.  But  yet  "  all  having  sinned,  and  come  short 


Rom.  iy.  4. 


i  Rev.  xxii.  14. 
tGal.  iii.  10. 


13 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


of  the  glory  of  God,"  that  is,  the  kingdom  of  God 
in  heaven,  vvhicli  is  often  called  his  glory,  both 
Jews  and  Gentiles,  so  that  "by  the  deeds  of  the 
law  no  one  could  be  justified,"  it  follows,  that  no 
one  could  then  have  eternal  life  and  bliss. 

14.  Perhaps  it  will  be  demanded, — Why  did 
God  give  so  liard  a  law  to  mankind,  that  to  the 
apostles'  time  no  one  of  Adam's  issue  had  kept 
it  ■?*  Answer.  It  was  such  a  law  as  the  purity 
of  God's  nature  required,  and  must  be  the  law  of 
such  a  creature  as  man,  unless  God  would  have 
made  him  a  rational  creature,  and  not  required 
him  to  have  lived  by  the  law  of  reason,  but  would 
have  countenanced  in  him  irregularity  and  dis- 
obedience to  that  light  which  he  had,  and  that 
rule  which  was  suitable  to  his  nature;  which 
would  have  been  to  have  authorized  disorder,  con- 
fusion, and  wickedness  in  his  creatures.  For  that 
this  law  was  the  law  of  reason,  or,  as  it  is  called, 
of  nature,  we  shall  see  by-and-by  :  and  if  rational 
creatures  will  not  live  up  to  the  rule  of  their  rea- 
son, who  shall  excuse  them"?  If  you  will  admit 
them  to  forsake  reason  in  one  point,  why  not  in 
another  1  Where  will  you  stop"!  To  disobey  God 
in  any  part  of  his  commands  (and  it  is  he  that 
commands  what  reason  does)  is  direct  rebellion  ; 
which  if  dispensed  with  in  any  point,  government 
and  order  are  at  an  end,  and  there  can  be  no 
bounds  set  to  the  lawless  exorbitancy  of  uncon- 
fined  men.  "The  law  therefore  was,"  as  St.  Paul' 
tells  us, — "holy,  just,  and  good,"t  and  such  as  it 
ought,  and  could  not  otherwise  be. 

15.  This  then  being  the  case,  that  whoever  is 
guilty  of  any  sin,  should  certainly  die,  and  cease 
to  be,  the  benefit  of  life  restored  by  Christ  at  the 
resurrection  would  have  been  no  great  advantage, 
(forasmuch  as  here  again  death  must  have  seized 
upon  all  mankind,  because  all  had  sinned  ;  for  the 
wages  of  sin  is  every  where  death,  as  well  after, 
as  before  the  resurrection,)  if  God  had  not  found 
out  a  way  to  justify  some  ;  i.  e.  so  many  as  obeyed 
anotiier  law,  which  God  gave,  which  in  the  New 
Testament  is  called  "  the  law  of  faith,"  and  is  op- 
posed to  "  the  law  of  works."|  And  therefore 
the  punishment  of  those  who  would  not  follow  him 
was  to  lose  their  souls,  i.  e.  their  lives  ;||  as  is  plain, 
considering  the  occasion  it  was  spoken  on 


of  the  law,  that  the  man  which  doth  those  things 
shall  live  in  them."*  "  The  law  is  not  of  faith  ; 
but  that  man  that  doth  them  shall  live  in  them."t 
On  the  other  side,  transgress  and  die  ;  no  dispen- 
sation, no  atonement.  "  Cursed  is  every  one  that 
contini^th  not  in  all  things  which  are  written  in 
the  book  of  the  law,  to  do  them." 

18.  Where  this  law  of  works  was  to  be  found, 
the  New  Testament  tells  us,  viz.  in  the  law  de- 
livered by  Moses.  "  The  law  was  given  by  Moses, 
but  faith  and  truth  came  by  Jesus  Christ."  "  Did 
not  Moses  give  you  the  law  ?"  says  our  Saviour, 
"  and  yet  none  of  you  keep  the  law."  And  this 
is  the  law  which  he  speaks  of,  where  he  asks  the 
lawyer,  "  WhM  is  written  in  the  law  1  How 
readcst  thou  ?  This  do,  and  thou  shalt  live." — 
This  is  that  which  St.  Paul  so  often  styles  the 
"  law,"  without  any  other  distinction  :  "  Not  the 
hearers  of  the  law  are  just  before  God,  but  the 
doers  of  the  law  are  justified."  It  is  needless  to 
quote  any  more  places  ;  his  epistles  are  all  full  of 
it,  especially  this  to  the  Romans. 

19.  But  the  law  given  by  Moses  being  not  given 
to  all  mankind,  how  are  all  men  sinners,  since 
without  a  law  there  is  no  transgression  1  To  this 
the  apostle  answers,  "For  when  the  Gentiles, 
which  have  not  the  law,  do  (i.  e.  find  it  reasona- 
ble to  do)  by  nature  the  things  contained  in  the 
law,  these  having  not  the  law,  are  a  law  unto 
themselves :  which  show  the  work  of  the  law 
written  in  their  hearts,  their  consciences  also 
bearing  witness,  and  amongst  one  anotiier  their 
thoughts  accusing  or  excusing."  By  which,  and 
other  places  in  the  following  chapter,  it  is  plain, 
that  under  the  law  of  works  is  comprehended  also 
the  law  of  nature,  knowable  by  reason,  as  well  as 
the  law  given  by  Moses.  "  For,"  says  St.  Paul, 
"  we  have  proved  both  Jews  and  Gentiles,  that 
they  are  all  under  sin :  for  all  have  sinned,  and 
corne  short  of  the  glory  of  God :"  which  they 
could  not  do  v.'ithout  a  law. 

20.  Nay,  whatever  God  requires  any  where  to 
be  done,  without  making  any  allowance  for  faith, 
that  is  a  part  of  the  law  of  works.  So  the  for- 
bidding Adam  to  eat  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  was 
part  of  the  law  of  works.     Only  vi'e  must  take  no- 

I  tice  here,  that  some  of  God's  positive  commands 


16.  The  better  to  understand  "the  law  of  faith," 
it  will  be  convenient  in  the  first  place  to  consider 
"  the  law  of  works."  "  The  law  of  works,"  then, 
in  short,  is  that  law  which  requires  perfect  obe- 
dience, without  any  remission  or  abatement ;  so 
that  by  that  law  a  man  cannot  be  just,  or  justified, 
•without  an  exact  performance  of  every  tittle. — 
Such  a  perfect  obedience  in  the  New  Testament 
is  termed  ^iKaLoawri,  which  we  translate  righteous- 
ness. 

17.  The  language  of  this  law  is.  Do  this  and 
live,  transgress  and  die.  "  Ye  shall  keep  my  sta- 
tutes and  my  judgments  ;  which  if  a  man  do,  he 
shall  live  in  them."^  "  I  gave  them  my  statutes, 
and  showed  them  my  judgments  ;  which  if  a  man 
do,  he  shall  even  live  in  them."1[  "  Moses,"  says 
St.  Paul,  "  describeth  the  righteousness  which  is 


*  As  appears  by  Rom.  iii.  and  Gal.  iii. 
+  Rom.  vii.2l.  t  lb.  iii.  27. 

II  Mark  viii.  35,  38.  §  Lev.  xviii.  5. 

ITEzck.  Kx.  11. 


being  for  peculiar  ends,  and  suited  to  particular 
circumstances  of  times,  places,  and  persons,  having 
a  limited  and  only  temporary  obligation,  by  virtue 
of  God's  positive  injunction  ;  such  as  was  that 
part  of  Moses's  law  which  concerned  the  outward 
worship  or  political  constitution  of  the  Jews,  and 
is  called  the  ceremonial  and  Judaical  law,  in  con- 
tradistinction to  the  moral  part  of  it ;  which  being 
conformable  to  the  eternal  law  of  right,  is  of  eter- 
nal obligation,  and  therefore  remains  in  force  still 
under  the  gospel ;  nor  is  abrogated  by  the  "  law 
of  faith,"  as  St.  Paul  found  some  ready  to  infer  : 
"  Do  we  then  make  void  the  law  through  faith  ? 
God  forbid  ;  yea,  we  establish  the  law." 

21.  Nor  can  it  be  otherwise  ;  for  were  there  no 
"  law  of  works,"  there  could  be  no  "  law  of  faith." 
For  there  could  be  no  need  of  faith,  which  should 
be  counted  to  men  for  righteousness,  if  there  were 
no  law  to  be  the  rule  and  measure  of  righteous- 
ness, which  men  failed  in  their  obedience  to. — 


Rom.  X. 


t  Gal.  iii.  12. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


19 


Where  there  is  no  law,  there  is  no  sin  ;    all  are 
righteous  equally  with  or  without  faith. 

22.  The  rule  therefore  of  right  is  the  same  that 
ever  it  was  ;  the  obhgation  to  observe  it  is  also 
the  same :  the  difference  between  the  law  of  works 
and  the  law  of  faith  is  only  this — that  the  law  of 
works  makes  no  allowance  for  failing  on  any  oc- 
casion. Those  that  obey  are  righteous  ;  those 
that  In  any  part  disobey  are  unrighteous,  and  must 
not  expect  life,  the  reward  of  righteousness.  But 
by  the  law  of  faith,  faith  is  allowed  to  supply  the 
defect  of  full  obedience  ;  and  so  the  believers  are 
admitted  to  life  and  immortality,  as  if  they  were 
righteous.  Only  here  we  must  take  notice,  that 
when  St.  Paul  says,  that  the  gospel  establishes 
the  law,  he  means  the  moral  part  of  the  law  of 
Moses  :  for  that  he  could  not  mean  the  ceremonial 
or  political  part  of  it,  is  evident  by  what  I  quoted 
out  of  him  just  now,  where  he  says,  "  The  Gentiles 
that  do  by  nature  the  things  contained  in  the  law, 
their  consciences  bearing  witness."  For  the  Gen- 
tiles neither  did  nor  thought  of  the  Judaical  or 
ceremonial  institutions  of  Moses  ;  it  was  only  the 
moral  part  their  consciences  were  concerned  in. 
As  for  the  rest,  St.  Paul  tells  the  Gallatians,  chap, 
iv.,  they  are  not  under  that  part  of  the  law,  which, 
verse  3,  he  calls  "  elements  of  the  world  ;"  and 
verse  9,  "  weak  and  beggarly  elements."  And 
our  Saviour  himseltj  in  his  gospel-sermon  on  the 
mount,  tells  them,  that  wliatever  they  might  think, 
he  was  not  come  to  dissolve  the  law,  but  to  make 
it  more  full  and  strict ;  for  that  that  is  meant  by 
irXijpuMi,  is  evident  fi'om  the  following  part  of  that 
chapter,  where  he  gives  the  precepts  in  a  stricter 
sense  than  they  were  received  in  before.  But 
they  are  all  precepts  of  the  moral  law  which  he 
reinforces  :  what  should  become  of  the  ritual  law 
he  tells  the  woman  of  Samaria  m  these  words  : 
"  The  hour  cometh  when  ye  shall  neither  in  this 
mountain,  nor  yet  at  Jerusalem,  worship  the  Fa- 
ther. But  the  true  worshippers  shall  worship  the 
Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  for  the  Father  seek- 
eth  such  to  worship  him." 

23.  Thus  then  as  to  the  law,  in  short :  the  civil 
and  ritual  part  of  the  law  delivered  by  Moses 
obliges  not  Christians,  though  to  the  Jews  it  were 
a  part  of  the  law  of  works  ;  it  being  a  part  of  the 
law  of  nature,  that  man  ought  to  obey  every  posi- 
tive law  of  God,  whenever  he  shall  please  to  make 
any  such  addition  to  the  law  of  his  nature.  But 
the  moral  part  of  Moses's  law,  or  the  moral  law, 
(which  is  every  where  the  same,  the  eternal  rule 
of  right,)  obliges  Christians  and  all  men  every 
where,  and  is  to  all  men  the  standing  law  of  works. 
But  Christian  believers  have  the  privilege  to  be 
under  the  "  law  of  faith"  too  ;  which  is  that  law 
whereby  God  justifies  a  man  for  believing,  though 
by  his  works  he  be  not  just  or  righteous  ;  i.  e. 
thougli  he  came  short  of  perfect  obedience  to  the 
law  of  works.  God  alone  does,  or  can  justify  or 
make  just  those  who  by  their  works  are  not  so  ; 
which  he  doth  by  counting  their  faith  for  righte- 
ousness ;  i.  e.  for  a  complete  performance  of  the 
law.  Abraham  "  believed  God,  and  it  was  count- j 
ed  unto  him  for  righteousness.  To  him  that  be- 
lieveth  on  him  that  justifieth  the  ungodly,  his  faith 
is  counted  for  righteousness.  Even  as  David  also 
describeth  the  blessedness  of  the  man  unto  whom 
God  imputeth  righteousness  without  works ;"  i.  e. 


without  a  full  measure  of  works,  which  is  exact 
obedience.  Saying,  "Blessed  are  they  whose 
iniquities  are  forgiven,  and  whose  sins  are  cover- 
ed. Blessed  is  the  man  to  whom  the  Lord  wUl 
not  impute  sin." 

24.  This  faith  for  which  God  justified  Abraham, 
what  was  it  1  It  was  the  believing  God  when  he 
engaged  his  promise  in  the  covenant  he  made 
witli  him.  This  will  be  plain  to  any  one  who  con- 
siders these  places  togetiier.  Gen.  xv.  6  :  "He 
believed  in  the  Lord,"  or  "  believed  the  Lord  :" 
for  that  the  Hebrew  phrase  "  believing  in,"  sig- 
nifies no  more  but  "  believing,"  is  plain  from  St. 
Paul's  citation  of  this  place,  Rom.  iv.  3,  where  he 
repeats  it  thus  :  "  Abraham  believed  God,"  which 
he  thus  explains,  "  Who  against  hope,  beheved 
in  hope,  that  he  might  become  the  father  of  many 
nations  :  according  to  that  which  was  spoken,  so 
shall  thy  seed  be.  And  being  not  weak  in  faith, 
he  considered  not  his  own  body  now  dead,  when 
he  was  about  an  hundred  years  old,  nor  yet  the 
deadness  of  Sarah's  womb.  He  staggered  not  at 
the  promise  of  God  through  unbelief;  but  was 
strong  in  faith,  giving  glory  to  God  :  and  being 
fully  persuaded,  that  what  he  had  promised  he  was 
also  able  to  perform.  And  therefore  it  was  ini- 
puted  to  him  for  righteousness."  By  which  it  is 
clear,  that  the  faith  which  God  counted  to  Abra- 
ham for  righteousness,  was  nothing  but  a  firm  be- 
lief of  what  God  declared  to  him,  and  a  steadfast 
relying  on  him  for  the  accomplishment  of  what  he 
had  promised. 

25.  "  Now  this,"  says  St.  Paul,  "  was  not  writ 
for  his  (Abraham's)  sake  alone,  but  for  us  also  ;" 
teaching  us,  that  as  Abraham  was  justified  for  liis 
faith,  so  also  ours  shall  be  accounted  to  us  for 
righteousness,  if  we  believe  God  as  Abraham  be- 
lieved him.  Whereby  it  is  plain  is  meant  the  firm- 
ness of  our  faith,  without  staggering  ;  and  not  the 
behoving  the  same  propositions  that  Abraham  be- 
lieved ;  viz.  that  though  he  and  Sarali  were  old, 
and  past  the  time  and  hopes  of  children,  yet  he 
should  have  a  son  by  her,  and  by  liim  become  the 
father  of  a  great  people,  which  should  possess  the 
the  land  of  Canaan.  This  was  what  Abraham 
believed,  and  was  counted  to  him  for  righteousness : 
but  nobody,  I  think,  will  say,  that  any  one's  be- 
lieving this  now,  shall  be  imputed  to  him  tor  righte- 
ousness. The  law  of  faich  then,  in  short,  is  for 
every  one  to  believe  what  God  requires  him  to  be- 
lieve, as  a  condition  of  the  covenant  he  makes 
with  him,  and  not  to  doubt  of  the  performance  of 
his  promises.  This  the  apostle  inthnates  in  the 
close  here  :  "  but  for  us  also,  to  whom  it  shall  be 
imputed,  if  we  believe  on  him  that  raised  up  Jesus 
our  Lord  from  the  dead."  We  must  therefore  ex- 
amine and  see  what  God  requires  us  to  believe 
now,  under  the  revelation  of  the  gospel ;  for  the 
belief  of  one  invisible,  eternal,  omnipotent  God, 
maker  of  heaven  and  earth,  &c.  was  required  be- 
fore, as  well  as  now. 

26.  What  we  are  now  required  to  believe  to  ob- 
tain eternal  life,  is  plainly  set  down  in  the  gospel. 
St.  John  tells  us,  John  iii.  36,  "  He  tliat  beheveth 
on  the  Son,  hath  eternal  life  ;  and  he  that  believeth 
not  the  Son,  shall  not  see  life."  What  this  believ- 
ing on  him  is,  we  are  also  told  in  the  next  chapter. 
"The  woman  saith  unto  him,  I  know  that  the 
Messiah  cometh :  when  he  is  come,  he  will  tell  us 


20 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


all  things.  Jesus  said  unto  her,  I  that  speak  unto 
thee  am  he.  The  woman  then  went  into  the  city, 
and  saith  to  the  men,  come,  see  a  man  that  hath 
told  me  aU  things  that  ever  I  did.  Is  not  this  the 
Messiah?  And  many  of  the  Samaritans  believed 
on  him,  for  the  saying  of  the  woman ;  who  testified, 
he  told  me  all  that  ever  I  did.  So  wlien  tlie  Sa- 
maritans were  come  unto  him,  many  more  believ- 
ed because  of  liis  v;ords ;  and  said  to  the  woman. 
We  believe  not  any  longer  because  of  thy  saying, 
for  we  have  heard  ourselves,  and  we  know  that  this 
man  is  truly  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  the  Mes- 
siah." 

27.  By  which  place  it  is  plain,  that  behoving  on 
the  Son,  is  the  believing  that  Jesus  was  the  Mes- 
siah ;  giving  credit  to  the  miracles  he  did,  and  the 
profesfion  he  made  of  himself:  for  those  who 
were  said  to  believe  on  him  for  the  saying  of  the 
woman,  tell  the  woman  that  they  now  believed  not 
any  longer  because  of  her  saying ;  but  that  liaving 
heard  him  themselves,  they  knew,  i.  e.  believed 
past  doubt,  that  he  was  the  Messiah. 

28.  This  was  the  great  proposition  that  was 
then  controverted  concerning  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
whether  he  was  the  Messiah  or  no  ;  and  the  assent 
to  that,  was  that  which  disthiguished  believers 
from  unbehevers.  When  many  of  the  disciples 
had  forsaken  him,  upon  his  declaring  that  he  was 
the  bread  of  life  which  came  down  from  heaven, 
he  said  to  the  apostles,  "  Will  ye  also  go  away?" 
Then  Simon  Peter  answered  him ;  "  Lord,  to  whom 
shall  we  go  1  Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal 
life :  and  we  believe,  and  are  sure  thou  art  the 
Messiah,  the  Son  of  the  living  God."  This  was 
the  faith  which  distinguished  them  from  apostates 
and  unbelievers,  and  was  sufficient  to  continue 
them  in  the  rank  of  apostles  :  and  it  was  upon  the 
same  proposition,  "  That  Jesus  was  the  Messiah, 
the  Son  of  the  living  God,"  owned  by  St.  Peter, 
that  our  Saviom*  said  he  would  build  his  church.* 


*  Though  I  shall,  in  the  Appendix,  have  occa- 
sion to  refer  more  than  once  to  the  conformity  of 
opinion  between  Locke  and  that  great  and  excellent 
prelate,  Jeremy  Taylor,  the  reader  may  not,  per- 
haps, be  displeased  to  find  his  testimony  introduced 
here  at  the  outset.  Nothing  can  be  more  explicit, 
or  more  to  the  purpose,  than  the  following  :  "  Now 
the  great  object  which  I  speak  of  is  Jesus  Christ  cru- 
cified. '  I  have  determined  to  know  nothing  among 
you,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified  ;'  so  said 
St.  Paul  to  the  church  of  Corinth.  This  is  the  ar- 
ticle upon  the  confession  of  which  Christ  built  his 
church  ;  viz.  only  upon  St.  Peter's  creed,  which  was 
no  more  but  this  simple  enunciation,  'We  believe 
and  are  sure  that  thou  art  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  liv- 
ing God;'  and  to  this  salvation  particularly  is  pro- 
mised, as  in  the  case  of  Martha's  crt^d.  (John  xi. 
37.)  To  this  the  Scripture  gives  the  greatest  testi- 
mony, and  to  all  them  that  confess  it;  'for  every 
spirit  that  confesseth  that  Jesus  Christ  is  come  in  the 
flesh,  is  of  God  ;'  and,  '  whosoever  confesseth  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God,  God  dwelleth  in  him, 
and  he  in  God:'  the  believing  this  article  is  the  end 
of  writing  the  four  gospels:  'These  things  are 
written,  that  ye  might  believe  that  Jesus  is  theChrist, 
the  Son  of  God :"  and  then  that  this  sufficient  fol- 
lows :  '  and  that  believing,'  viz.  this  article  (for  this 
was  only  instanced  in,)  '  ye  might  have  life  through 
his  name.'  This  is  that  great  article,  which,  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  things  to  be  believed,  is  sufficient 
disposition  to  prepare  a  catechumen  to  baptism ;  as 


29.  To  convince  men  of  this,  he  did  his  mira- 
cles ;  and  their  assent  to,  or  not  assenting  to  this, 
made  them  to  be,  or  not  to  be  of  his  chmxh  ;  be- 
lievers, or  not  believers.  "  The  Jews  came  romid 
about  him,  and  said  unto  him,  how  long  dost  thou 
make  us  doubt?  If  thou  be  the  Messiah,  tell  us 
plainly.  Jesus  answered  them,  I  told  you,  and  ye 
behoved  not :  the  works  that  I  do  in  my  Father's 
name,  they  bear  witness  of  me.  But  ye  believe 
not,  because  ye  are  not  of  my  sheep."  Conformable 
heremito  St.  John  tells  us,  "  That  many  deceivers 
are  entered  into  the  world,  who  confessed  not  that 
Jesus,  the  Messiah,  is  come  in  the  flesh.  This  is  a 
deceiver  and  an  antichrist :  whosoever  abideth  not 
in  the  doctrine  of  the  Messiah  lias  not  God.  He 
that  abideth  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Messiah,"  i.  e. 
that  Jesus  is  he,  "  hath  both  the  Father  and  the 
Son."  That  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  place,  is 
plain  from  what  he  says  in  his  foregoing  epistle  : 
"  Whosoever  believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Messiah, 
is  born  of  God."  And  therefore,  drawing  to  a  close 
of  his  gospel,  and  showing  the  end  for  which  he 
wrote  it,  he  has  these  words  :  "  Many  other  signs 
truly  did  Jesus  in  the  presence  of  his  disciples, 
whicli  are  not  written  in  this  book  ;  but  these  are 
written,  that  ye  may  beheve  that  Jesus  is  the 
Messiah,  the  Son  of  God  ;  and  that  behoving  ye 
might  have  life  through  his  name."  Whereby  it 
is  plain,  that  the  gospel  was  written  to  induce  men 
into  a  belief  of  this  proposition — tJiat  Jesus  of  Na- 
zareth was  the  Messiah  ;  which,  if  they  believed 
they  should  have  life. 

30.  Accordingly  the  great  question  amongst  tlie 
Jews  was,  whether  he  were  the  Messiah  or  no : 
and  the  great  point  insisted  on  and  promulgated 
in  the  gospel  was,  that  he  was  the  Messiah.  The 
first  glad  tidings  of  his  birth,  brought  to  the  shep- 
herds by  an  angel,  was  in  these  words  :  "  Fear  not, 
for  behold  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy, 
which  shall  be  to  all  people  ;  for  to  you  is  born 
this  day,  in  the  city  of  David,  a  Saviour,  who  is 
the  Messiah,  the  Lord."  Our  Saviour  discours- 
ing  with  Martha  about  the  means  of  attainuig 
eternal  life,  saith  to  her,  '•  Whosoever  believeth  in 
me  shall  never  die.  Believest  thou  this?  She 
saith  unto  him.  Yea,  Lord,  I  believe  that  thou  art 
the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God,  which  should  come 
into  the  world."  This  answer  of  hers  showeth 
what  it  is  to  beUeve  in  Jesus  Christ,  so  as  to  have 
eternal  life  ;  viz.  to  believe  that  he  is  the  Messiah, 
the  Son  of  God,  whose  coming  was  foretold  by  the 
prophets.  And  thus  Andrew  and  Philip  express 
it :  Andrew  says  to  his  brother  Simon,  "  We  have 
found  the  Messiah  ;  which  is,  being  interpreted, 


appears  in  the  case  of  the  Ethiopian  eunuch,  whose 
creed  was  only  this  :  '  I  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  Son  of  God;'  and  upon  this  confession  (saith 
the  story)  they  both  went  into  the  water,  and  the 
Ethiop  was  washed,  and  became  as  white  as  snow." 
— Liberty  of  Prophesying,  §  1.  p.  8,  9.  But  with  this 
learned  and  eloquent  work  the  readers  of  the  "  Sa- 
cred Clas.sics"  are  already  familiar;  and  must  there- 
fore know  that  it  contains  the  entire  foundation  of 
Locke's  Treatise.  See  particularly  the  sections  on 
Faith  and  Heresy,  whish  no  man  can  read  without 
benefit ;  since,  were  the  spirit  in  which  they  are 
written  the  predominant  spirit  in  the  Christian 
world,  great  distinct  bodies  of  heretics  would  scarce- 
ly be  found. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY 


21 


The  Christ."  Philip  saith  toNathanial,  "We have 
found  him  of  whom  Moses  iii  the  law  and  the  pro- 
phets did  write  ;  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  Son  of 
Joseph."  John  i.  41,  45.  According  to  what  the 
evangelist  says  in  this  place,  I  have,  for  the  clear- 
er understanding  of  the  Scripture,  all  along  put 
Messiah  for  Christ ;  Christ  being  but  the  Greek 
name  for  the  Hebrew  Messiah,  and  both  signifying 
The  Anointed. 

31.  And  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  was  the  great 
truth  he  took  pains  to  convince  his  disciples  and 
apostles  of ;  appearing  to  them  after  his  resurrec- 
tion :  as  may  be  seen,  Luke  xxiv.,  which  we  shall 
more  particularly  consider  in  another  place.  There 
we  read  what  gospel  our  Saviour  preached  to  his 
disciples  and  apostles ;  and  that,  as  soon  as  he 
was  risen  from  the  dead,  twice  the  very  day  of  his 
resurrection. 

32.  And  if  we  may  gather  what  was  to  be  be- 
lieved by  all  nations,  from  what  was  preaclied  unto 
them,  we  may  certainly  know  what  they  were 
commanded  (Matt,  ult.)  to  teach  all  nations,  by 
wiiat  they  actually  did  teach  all  nations  ;  we  may 
observe,  that  the  preaching  of  the  apostles  every 
where  in  the  Acts  tended  to  this  one  point,  to 
prove  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah.  Indeed,  now, 
after  his  death,  his  resurrection  was  also  commonly 
required  to  be  believed  as  a  necessary  article,  and 
sometimes  solely  insisted  on  ;  it  being  a  mark  and 
undoubted  evidence  of  his  being  the  Messiah,  and 
necessary  now  to  be  believed  by  those  who  would 
receive  him  as  the  Messiah.  For  since  the  Mes- 
siah was  to  be  a  Saviour  and  a  King,  and  to  give 
life  and  a  kingdom  to  those  who  received  him,  as 
we  shall  see  by-and-by,  there  could  have  been  no 
pretence  to  iiave  given  him  out  for  the  Messiah, 
and  to  require  men  to  believe  him  to  be  so,  who 
thought  him  under  the  power  of  death,  and  cor- 
ruption of  the  grave.  And  therefore  those  who  be- 
hoved him  to  be  the  Messiah,  must  believe  that  he 
was  risen  from  the  dead  ;  and  those  who  beheved 
him  to  be  risen  from  the  dead,  could  not  doubt  of 
his  being  the  Messiah.  But  of  this  more  in 
another  place. 

33.  Let  us  see  therefore  how  the  apostles  preach- 
ed Christ,  and  what  they  proposed  to  their  hear- 
ers to  believe.  St.  Peter  at  Jerusalem,  Acts  ii., 
by  his  first  sermon,  converted  three  thousand 
souls.  What  was  his  word,  which,  as  we  are  told, 
"  they  gladly  received,  and  thereupon  were  bap- 
tized V  That  may  be  seen  from  verse  22  to  verse 
36.  In  short  this,  which  is  the  conclusion  drawn 
from  all  that  he  had  said,  and  which  he  presses  on 
them  as  the  tiling  they  were  to  believe,  viz. 
"  Therefore  let  all  the  house  of  Israel  know  as- 
suredly, that  God  hath  made  that  same  Jesus, 
whom  ye  have  crucified.  Lord  and  Messiah." 

34.  To  the  same  purpose  was  his  discourse  to 
the  Jews  in  the  temple.  Acts  iii.,  Ihe  design  where- 
of you  have,  verse  18 :  "  But  those  things  that 
God  before  had  showed  by  the  mouth  of  all  his 
prophets,  that  the  Messiah  should  suffer,  he  hath 
so  fulfilled."  In  the  next  chapter.  Acts  iv.,  Peter 
and  John  being  examined  about  the  miracle  on  the 
lame  man,  profess  it  to  have  been  done  in  the 
name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  who  was  the  Messiah, 
m  whom  alone  there  was  salvation.  The  same 
thing  they  confirm  to  them  again,  Acts  v.    "  And 

Tl  (17) 


daily  in  the  temple,  and  in  every  house,  they  ceas- 
^"'JP*^^  to  teach  and  preach  Jesus  the  Messiah." 

3.5.  What  was  Stephen's  soeech  to  the  council. 
Acts  vn.,  but  a  reprehension  to  them,  that  they 
were  the  betrayers  and  murderers  of  the  just  one  t 
which  IS  the  title  by  which  he  plainly  designs  the 
Messiali,  whose  coming  was  foreshown  by  the  pro- 
phets. And  that  the  Messiah  was  to  be  without 
sin  (which  IS  the  import  of  the  word  Just)  was  the 
opinion  of  the  Jews,  appears  from  John  iv.  22, 
compared  with  24. 

36.  Acts  viii.  Philip  carries  the  gospel  to  Sama- 
ria. "  Then  Philip  went  down  to  Samaria,  and 
preached  to  them."  What  was  it  ho  preached? 
You  have  an  account  of  it  in  this  one  word,  "  The 
Messiah,"  verse  5.  This  being  that  alone  which 
was  required  of  them,  to  believe  that  Jesus  was 
the  Messiah;  whicli,  when  they  believed,  they 
were  baptized.  And  when  they  believed  I'hiiip's 
"  preaching  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and 
the  name  of  Jesus  the  Messiah,  they  wore  baptized, 

I  both  men  and  women." 

37.  Philip  being  sent  from  thence,  by  a  special 
call  of  the  Spirit,  to  make  an  eminent  convert,  out 
of  Isaiah  preaches  to  him  Jesus  ;  and  what  it  was 
he  preached  concerning  Jesus,  we  may  know  by 
the  profession   of  faith  the   eunuch   made,  upon 
which  he  was  admitted  to  baptism  :  "I  believe  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God :"  which  is  as  much 
as  to  say,  I  believe  that  he,  whom  you  call  Jesus 
Christ,  is  really  and  truly  the  Messiah  that  was 
promised.     For  that  believing  him  to  be  tiie  Son 
of  God  and  to  be  the  Messiah  was  the  same  thing, 
may  appear  by  comparing  John  i.  45,  with  verse 
49,  where  Natjianiel  owns  Jesus  to  be  the  Jlessiah 
in  these  terms  :  "  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God  ;  thou 
art  the  king  of  Israel."     So  the  Jews,  Luke  xxii. 
70,  asking  Christ,  whether  he  were  the  Son  of 
God  ;  plainly  demanded  of  him,  whether  he  were 
tlie  Messiah  ]     Which  is  evident  by  comparing 
that  with  the  three  preceding  versos.     They  ask 
him,  verse  67,  whether  he  were  the  Messiali  /  He 
answers :  "  If  I  tell  you,  you  will  not  believe ;"  but 
withal  tells  them,  that  from  henceforth  he  should 
be  in  possession  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah, 
expressed  in  these  words  :  "  Hereafter  shall  the 
Son  of  Man  sit  on  the  right  hand  of  the  power  of 
God :"  which  made  them  all  cry  out,  "  Art  thou 
then  the  Son  of  God  ?"  i.  e.  dost  thou  then  own 
thyself  to  be  the  Messiah  ?     To  which  he  replies  : 
"  Ye  say  that  I  am."     That  the  Son  of  God  was 
the  known  title  of  the  Messiah  at  t/iat  time  amongst 
the  Jews,  we  may  see  also  from  what  the  Jews 
say  to  Pilate :  "  We  have  a  I'aw,  and  by  our  law 
he  ought  to  die,  because  he  made  himself  the  Son 
of  God  ;"  i.  e,  by  making  liimself  the  Messiah,  the 
prophet  which  was  to  come,  but  falsely ;  and  there- 
fore he  deserves  to  die  by  the  law.     That  t  his  was 
the  common  signification  of  the  Son  of  God,  is 
further  evident  from  what  the  chief  priests,  mock- 
ing him,  said,  when  he  was  on  the  cross :  "  He  sav- 
ed others,  himself  he  cannot  save:  if  he  be  the  king 
of  Israel,  let  him  now  come  down  from  the  cross, 
and  we  will  believe  him.  He  trusted  in  God,  let  him 
deliver   him  now,   if  he   wiU   have  him  ;  for  he 
said,  I  am  the  Son  of  God  ;"  i.  c.  he  said,  he  was 
the  Messiah:  butit  isplahily  false  ;  for  if  he  were, 
God  would  deliver  him  ;  for  the  Messiah  is  to  be 
king  of  Israel,  the  Saviour  of  others ;  but  this  man 

I 


22 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


cannot  save  himself.  The  chief  priests  mention 
here  the  two  titles  then  in  use  whereby  the  Jews 
commonly  designed  the  Messiah,  viz.  "Son  of  God, 
and  kintr  of  Israel."  That  of  Son  of  God,  was  so 
familiar'a  compellation  of  the  Messiah,  who  was 
then  so  much  expected  and  talked  of,  that  the  Ro- 
mans it  seems,  who  lived  amongst  them,  had  learn- 
ed it ;  as  appears  from  Matt,  xxvii.  "  Now  when 
the  centurion,  and  they  that  were  with  him,  watch- 
ing Jesus,  saw  the  earthquake,  and  those  things 
that  were  done,  they  feared  greatly,  saying,  truly 
this  was  the  Son  of  God  ;"  this  was  that  extraor- 
dinary person  that  was  looked  for. 

38.  Acts  ix.  St.  Paul  exercising  the  commis- 
sion  to  preach  the  gospel,  which  he  had  received 
in  a  miraculous  way,  "straightway  preached 
Christ  in  the  synagogue,  tliat  he  is  the  Son  of 
God ;"  i.  e.  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah  :  for 
Christ  in  this  place  is  evidently  a  proper  name. 
And  that  this  was  it  which  Paul  preached,  ap- 
pears from  verse  22  :  "  Saul  increased  the  more 
in  strength,  and  confounded  the  Jews  who  dwelt 
in  Damascus,  proving  that  this  is  the  very  Christ ;" 
i.  e.  the  Messiah. 

39.  Peter,  when  he  came  to  Cornelius  at  Cesa- 
rea ;  who  by  a  vision  was  ordered  to  send  for 
him,  as  Peter,  on  the  other  side,  was  by  a  vision 
commanded  to  go  to  him  ;  what  does  he  teach 
him?     His  whole  discourse.  Acts    x.,  tends   to 
show  what  he  says  God  commanded  the  apostles 
"  to  preach  unto  the  people,  and  to  testify :  that  it 
is  he  (Jesus)  which  was  ordained  of  God  to  be 
the  judge  of  the  quick  and  the  dead."     And  that 
it  was  "  to  him  that  all  the  prophets  give  witness, 
that  through  his  name  whosoever  beheved  in  him 
shall  have  remission  of  sins."     This  is  the  word 
which  God  sent  to  the  children  of  Israel ;  that 
word  which  was  published  throughout  all  Judea, 
and  began  from  Galilee,  after  the  baptism  which 
John  preached.     And  these  are  the  words  which 
had  been  promised  to  Cornelius,  "  Whereby  he 
and  all  his  house  should  be  saved  :"  which  words 
amount  only  to  thus  much,  that  Jesus  was  the 
Messiah,  the  Saviour  that  was  promised.     Upon 
their  receiving  of  this  (for  this  was  all  was  taught 
them)  the  Holy  Ghost  fell  on  them,  and  they  were 
baptized.     It  is  observable  here,  that  the  Holy 
Ghost  fell  on  them  before  they  were  baptized  ; 
which  in  other  places  converts  received  not  till 
after  baptism.    The  reason  whereof  seems  to  be 
this  ;  that  God,  by  bestowing  on  them  the  Holy 
Ghost,  did  thus  declare  from  heaven,  that  the  Gen- 
tiles, upon   believing  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah, 
ought  to  be  admitted  into  the  church  by  baptism 
as  well  as  the  Jews.     Whoever  reads  St.  Peter's 
defence,  when  he  was  accused  by  those  of  the  cir- 
cumcision, that  he  had  not  kept   that   distance 
which  he  ought  with  the  uncircumcised,  will  be  of 
this  opinion  ;  and  see  by  what  he  says,t  that  this 
was  the  ground,  and  an  irresistible   authority  to 
him  for  doing  so  strange  a  thing,  as  it  appeared  to 
the  Jews,  (who  alone  yet  were  members  of  the 
Christian  church,)  to   admit  Gentiles  into  their 
communion,  upon  their  believing.     And  therefore 
St.  Peter,  in  the  foregoing  chapter.  Acts  x.,  before 
he  would  baptize  them,  proposes  this  question  to 
those  of  the  circumcision,  which  came  with  him. 


and  were  astonished,  because  that  on  the  Gentiles 
also  was  poured  out  the  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost: 
"  Can  any  one  forbid  water,  that  these  should  not 
be  baptized,  who  have  received  tlie  Holy  Ghost 
as  well  as  we  1"  And  when  some  of  the  sect  of 
tlie  Pharisees,  who  believed,  thought  it  needful  tnat 
the  converted  Gentiles  should  be  circumcised,  and 
keep  the  law  of  Moses,  Peter  "  rose  up  and  said 
unto  them.  Men  and  brethren,  you  know  tliat  a 
good  while  ago  God  made  choice  amongst  us,  that 
the  Gentiles,"  viz.  Cornelius,  and  those  here  con- 
verted with  him,  "by  my  mouth  should  hear  the 
gospel,  and  believe.  And  God,  who  knoweth  the 
hearts,  bare  them  witness,  giving  them  the  Holy 
Ghost,  even  as  he  did  unto  us,  and  put  no  difter- 
ence  between  us  and  them,  purifymg  their  hearts 
by  faith."  So  that  both  Jews  and  Gentiles,  who 
believed  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah,  received  there- 
upon ihe  seal  of  baptism  ;  whereby  they  are  own- 
ed  to  be  liis,  and  distinguished  from  unbelievers. 
From  what  is  above  said,  we  may  observe,  that 
this  preaching  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah,  is  calleo 
the  Word,  and  the  Word  of  God ;  and  believing 
it,  receiving  the  Word  of  God.*  And  the  Word 
of  the  gospel.f  And  so  likewise  in  the  history  of 
the  gospel,  what  Mark  iv.  14,  15,  calls  simply  the 
Word,  St.  Luke  calls  the  Word  of  God,  Luke, 
viii.  11.  And  St.  Matthew,  xiii.  19,  the  Word  of 
the  Kingdom  ;  which  were,  it  seems,  in  the  gos- 
pel writers  synonymous  terms,  and  are  so  to  be 
understood  by  us. 

40.  But  to  go  on  :  Acts  xiii.  Paul  preaches  in 
the  synagogue  at  Antioch,  where  he  makes  it  his 
business  to  convince  the  Jews,  that  "  God,  accord- 
ing to  his  promise,  had  of  the  seed  of  David  raised 
to  Israel  a  Saviour,  Jesus."  That  he  was  he  of 
whom  the  prophets  wrote,  i.  e.  the  Messiah  :  and 
that  as  a  demonstration  of  his  being  so,  God  had 
raised  him  from  the  dead.  From  whence  he  ar- 
gues thus  :  "  We  evangelize  to  you,"  or  bring  you 
this  gospel,  "how  that  the  promise  which  was 
made  to  our  fathers,  God  hath  fulfilled  the  same 
unto  us,  in  that  he  hath  raised  up  Jesus  again  ;" 
as  it  is  also  written  in  the  second  Psalm,  "  Thou 
art  my  Son,  tiiis  day  have  I  begotten  thee."  And 
having  gone  on  to  prove  him  to  be  the  Messiah, 
by  Ills'  resurrection  from  the  dead,  he  makes  this 
conclusion  :  "  Be  it  known  unto  you  therefore, 
men  and  brethren,  that  through  this  man  is  preach- 
ed unto  you  forgiveness  of  sins  ;  and  by  him  all 
who  believe,  are  justified  from  all  things  from 
which  they  could  not  be  justified  by  the  law  of 
Moses."  This  is  in  this  chapter  called  "  the  word 
of  God"  over  and  over  again.  Compare  verse 
42  with  44,  46.  48,  49  ;  and  chapter  xii.  verse  24. 
41.  At  "Thessalonica,  Paul,  as  his  manner  was, 
went  into  the  synagogue,  and  three  Sabbath-days 
reasoned  with  tlie  Jews  out  of  the  Scriptures  ; 
opening  and  alleging,  that  the  Messiah  must 
needs  have  suffered,  and  risen  again  from  the 
dead  ;  and  that  this  Jesus,  whom  I  preach  unto 
you,  is  the  Messiah.  And  some  of  them  believed, 
and  consorted  with  Paul  and  Silas  :  but  the  Jews 
which  believed  not,  set  the  city  in  an  uproar."^ 
Can  there  be  any  thing  plainer,  than  that  the  as- 
sentmg  to  this  proposition,  that  Jesus  was  the 


♦  Acts  xi.  14. 


tibid.xi. 


Vide  Acts  x.  36,  37;  xi.  1,  19,  20. 
t  Acts  xvii. 


t  Acts  XV.  7. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OP    CHRISTIANITY, 


23 


Messiah,  was  that  which  distinguished  the  be- 
lievers from  the  unbelievers  ]  For  this  was  that 
alone  which,  three  Sabbaths,  Paul  endeavored  to 
convince  them  of,  as  the  text  tells  us  iji  direct 
words.  From  thence  he  went  to  Berea,  and 
preached  the  same  thing ;  and  the  Bereans  are 
commended  for  searching  the  Scriptures,  whe- 
ther those  things,  i.  e.  which  he  had  said,  con- 
cerning Jesus's  being  the  Messiah,  were  true 
or  no. 

42.  The  same  doctrine  we  find  him  preaching 
at  Corinth  :  "  And  lie  reasoned  in  the  synagogue 
every  Sabbath,  and  persuaded  the  Jews  and  the 
Greeks."*  "  And  when  Silas  and  Timotheus  were 
come  from  Macedonia,  Paul  was  pressed  in  spirit, 
and  testified  to  the  Jews,  that  Jesus  was  the  Mes- 
siah. And  when  tiiey  opposed  themselves,  and 
blasphemed,  he  shook  his  raiment,  and  said  unto 
thera,  Your  blood  be  upon  your  own  heads ;  I 
am  clean:  from  henceforth  I  will  go  unto  the 
Greeks." 

43.  Upon  tiie  hke  occasion  he  tells  the  Jews 
at  Antioch,  "It  was  necessary  that  the  word  of 
God  should  first  have  been  spoken  to  you :  but 
seeing  you  put  it  off  from  you,  we  turn  to  the 
Gentiles."f  It  is  plain  here,  St.  Paul's  charging 
their  blood  on  their  own  heads,  is  for  opposing 
this  single  truth — that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah ; 
that  salvation  or  perdition  depends  upon  believing 
or  rejecting  this  one  proposition.  I  mean,  this  is 
all  is  required  to  be  beheved  by  those  who  ac- 
knowledge but  one  eternal  and  invisible  God,  the 
Maker  of  heaven  and  earth,  as  the  Jews  did.  For 
that  there  is  something  more  required  to  salva- 
tion, besides  believing,  we  shall  see  hereafter.  In 
the  meantime,  it  is  tit  here  on  this  occasion  to 
take  notice,  that  though  the  apostles,  in  their 
preaching  to  the  Jews,  and  the  devout,  (as  we 
translate  the  word  'ScSoixcvot,  who  were  proselytes 
of  the  gate,  and  the  worshippers  of  one  eternal 
invisible  God,)  said  nothing  of  the  believing  in 
this  one  true  God,  the  Maker  of  heaven  and  earth ; 
because  it  was  needless  to  press  this  to  those  who 
beheved  and  professed  it  already  :  (for  to  such,  it 
is  plain,  were  most  of  their  discourses  hitherto  ;) 
yet  when  they  had  to  do  with  idolatrous  heathens, 
who  were  not  yet  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
one  only  true  God  ;  they  began  with  that,  as  ne- 
cessary to  be  believed ;  it  being  the  foundation  on 
which  the  other  was  built,  and  without  which  it 
could  signify  notiiing. 

44.  Thus  Paul,  speaking  to  the  idolatrous  Lys- 
trians,  who  would  have  sacrificed  to  him  and  Bar- 
nabas, says  : — "  We  preach  unto  you,  that  you 
should  turn  from  these  vanities  unto  the  living 
God,  who  made  heaven,  and  earth,  and  the  sea, 
and  all  things  that  are  therein ;  who,  in  times  past, 
suffered  all  nations  to  walk  in  their  own  ways. — 
Nevertheless  he  left  not  himself  without  witness, 
in  that  he  did  good,  and  gave  us  rain  from  heaven, 
and  fi-uitful  seasons,  fillmg  our  hearts  with  food 
and  gladness." 

45.  Thus  also  he  proceeded  with  the  idolatrous 
Athenians,  Acts  xvii.,  telling  them,  upon  occasion 
of  the  altar  dedicated  to  the  unknown  God, — 
"  Whom  ye  ignorantly  worship,  him  declare  I  unto 


!you;  God,  who  made  the  world,  and  all  things 
therem  :  seeing  that  he  is  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth,  dwelleth  not  in  temples  made  with  hands. 
Forasmuch  then  as  we  are  the  offspring  of  God, 
we  ought  not  to  tliink  that  the  Godhead  is  like 
unto  gold,  or  silver,  or  stone,  graven  by  art,  and 
man's  device.  And  the  times  of  this  ignorance 
God  wmked  at ;  but  now  commandeth  all  men 
every  where  to  repent ;  because  he  hath  appoint- 
ed a  day  in  which  he  will  judge  the  world  in 
righteousness,  by  that  man  whom  he  hath  ordain- 
ed :  vyhereof  he  hath  given  assurance  unto  all 
men,  in  that  he  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead." 
So  that  we  see,  where  any  thing  more  was  ne- 
cessary to   be  proposed  to  be  believed,  as  there 

;  was  to  the  heathen  idolators,  there  the  apostles 

j  were  careful  not  to  omit  it.* 

46.  Paul  at  Corinth,  reasoned  in  the  synagogue 
every  Sabbath-day,  and  testified  to  the  Jews,  that 
Jesus  was  the  Messiah.f  "And  he  continued  there 
a  year  and  six  months,  teaching  the  word  of  God 
amongst  them  ;"  that  is,  the  good  news,  that 
Jesus  was  the  Messiah ;  as  we  have  already 
shown  is  meant  by  the  word  of  God.  Apollos, 
another  preacher  of  the  gospel,  when  he  was  in- 
structed in  the  way  of  God  more  perfectly,  what 
did  he  teach  but  this  same  doctrine  ?  As  we  may 
see  in  this  account  of  him,  "  that  when  he  was 
come  into  Achaia,  he  helped  the  brethren  much 
who  had  believed  through  grace  ;  for  he  mightily 
convinced  the  Jews,  and  that  publicly  ;  showing 
by  the  Scriptures  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah." 

47.  St.  Paul,  in  the  account  he  gives  of  himself 
before  Festus  and  Agrippa,  professes  this  alone  to 
be  the  doctrine  he  taught  after  his  conversion  : — 
for,  says  he,  "Having  obtained  help  of  God,  I 
continue  unto  this  day,  witnessing  both  to  small 
and  great,  saying  none  other  things  than  those 
which  the  prophets  and  Moses  did  say  should 
come  :  that  the  Messiah  should  suffer,  and  that  he 
should  be  the  first  that  should  rise  from  the  dead, 
and  should  show  light  unto  the  people,  and  to  the 
Gentiles."  Which  was  no  more  than  to  prove 
that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah.  This  is  that,  which, 
as  we  have  above  observed,  is  called  the  "  word 
of  God,"  Acts  xi.  1,  compared  with  the  foregoing 
chapter,  from  verse  34  to  the  end  ;  and  xiii.  42, 


Acts  xviii.  4, 6. 


t  Ibid.  xiii.  46. 


*  How  an  author  who  writes  in  this  reverential 
and  pious  strain,  could  ever  have  been  accused  of 
Atheism,  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  conceive.  Yet 
the  Rev.  John  Edwards,  the  unworthy  antagonist  of 
Locke,  accuses  him  of  Socinianism,  in  which  he 
finds  "  a  tanc^  of  atheism."  (Thoughts  concerning 
the  Causes  of  Atheism,  &c.  p.  64.)  Not  to  think  as 
he  thought  on  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  seems,  in 
his  eyes,  to  have  been  akin  to  the  worst  impiety; — 
though  from  that  Letter  of  Constantine  to  Alexan- 
der and  Arius,  of  which  Hosius,  bishop  ofCorduba 
was  the  bearer,  and  probably  the  author,  the  whole 
dispute  appears  to  have  been  considered  by  the 
primitive  church  as  "  a  certain  vain  piece  of  a  ques- 
tion, ill  begun  and  more  unadvi.sedly  published ;  a 
question  which  no  law  or  ecclesiastical  canon  de- 
fineth;  a  fruitless  contention,  fhe  product  of  idle 
brains;  a  matter  so  nice,  so  obscure,  so  jntncate, 
that  it  was  neither  to  be  explicated  by  the  clergy, 
nor  understood  by  the  people."— Liberty  of  Pro- 
phesying.— Ed. 

i  Acts  xviii. 


24 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY 


compared  with  44,  46,  48,  49  ;  and  xvii.  13,  com- 
pared with  verse  11,3.  It  is  also  called  "the 
word  of  the  gfospej,"  Acts  xv.  7.  And  this  is  that 
"word  of  God,"  and  that  gospel,  which,  wherever 
their  discourses  are  set  down,  we  find  the  apos- 
tles preached;  and  was  that  faith  which  made 
both  Jews  and  Gentiles  believers  and  members  of 
the  church  of  Christ ;  purifying  their  hearts,*  and 
carrying  with  it  remission  of  sins.f  So  that  all 
that  was  to  be  believed  for  justification,  was  no 
more  but  this  single  proposition — that  "  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  was  the  Christ,"  or  the  Messiah.  All,  I 
say,  that  was  to  be  believed  for  justification :  for 
that  it  was  not  all  that  was  required  to  be  done 
for  justification,  we  shall  see  hereafter. 

&.  Though  we  have  seen  above  from  what 
our  Saviour  has  pronounced  himself,  "that  he 
that  beheveth  on  the  Son,  hath  everlasting  life  ; 
and  he  that  believeth  not  the  Son,  shall  not  see 
hfe,  but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him  ;"  and 
are  taught  from  John  iv.  39,  compared  with  verse 
42,  "  that  believing  on  him,  is  believing  that  he  is 
the  Messiah,  the  Saviour  of  the  world;"  and  the 
confession  made  by  St.  Peter,  Matt.  xvi.  16, — 
"  that  he  is  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  the  living- 
God,"  being  the  rock  on  which  our  Saviour  has 
promised  to  build  his  church  ;  though  this,  I  say, 
and  what  else  we  have  already  taken  notice  of,  be 
enough  to  convince  us  what  it  is  we  are  in  the 
gospel  required  to  believe  to  eternal  life,  without 
adding  what  we  have  observed  from  the  preaching 
of  the  apostles ;  yet  it  may  not  be  amiss,  for  the 
further  clearing  this  matter,  to  observe  what  the 
evangelists  deliver  concernmg  the  same  thing, 
though  in  different  words  ;  which  therefore,  per- 
haps, are  not  so  generally  taken  notice  of  to  this 
purpose. 

49.  We  have  above  observed,  from  the  words 
of  Andrew  and  PhiUp  compared,  that  the  Messiah 
and  him  of  whom  Closes  in  the  law  and  the  pro- 
phets did  wTite,  signify  the  same  thing.  We  shall 
now  consider  that  place,  John  i.,  a  hltle  further. 
Andrew  says  to  Simon, '  We  have  found  the  Mes- 
siah."    Phdip,  on  the  same  occasion,  says  to  Na- 
thanael,  "  We  have  found  him  of  whom  Moses  in 
the  law  and  the  prophets  did  write,  Jesus  of  Na 
zareth,  the  son   of  Joseph."      Nathanael,    who 
disbelieved  this,  when  upon  Christ's  speaking  to 
him  he  was  convinced  of  it,  declares  his  assent  to 
it  in  these  words  :  "  Rabbi,  thou  art  the  Son  of 
God,  thou  art  tiie  King  of  Israel :"  from  which  it 
is  evident,  that  to  beheve  him  to  be  him  of  whom 
Moses  and  the  prophets  did  write,  or  to  be  the 
"  Son  of  God,"  or  to  be  the  "  King  of  Israel," 
was  in  effect  the  same  as  to  believe  him  to  be  the 
Messiah:  and  an  assent  to  that  was  what  our 
Saviour  received  for  believing :  for  upon  Natha- 
nael's  making  a  confession  in  these  words,  "Thou 
art  the  Son  of  God,  thou  art  the  King  of  Israel ; 
Jesus  answered  and  said  to  him,  because  I  said  to 
thee,  I  saw  thee  under  the  fig-tree,  dost  thou  be- 
lieve 1  Thou  Shalt  see  greater  things  than  these." 
I  desire  any  one  to  read  the  latter  part  of  tlie  first 
of  John,  from  verse  2.5,  with  attention  ;  and  tell 
me,  whether  it  be  not  plain, that  this  phrase,  "the 
Son  of  God,"  is  an  expression  used  for  the  Mes- 
siah.    To  which  let  hirn  add  Martha's  declaration 


of  her  faith,  in  these  words  :  "1  believe  that  ihou 
art  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God,  who  should  come 
into  the  world  ;"  and  that  passage  of  St.  John, — 
That  ye  might  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Messiah 
le  Son  of  God  ;  and  that  beUeving,  ye  might 
have  life  through  his  name ;"  and  then  tell  me, 
whether  he  can  doubt  that  Messiah  and  Sonf 
God  were  synonymous  terms  at  that  time  amongst 
the  Jews. 

50.  The  prophecy  of  Daniel  where  he  is  called 
"  Messiah  the  Prince  ;''*  and  the  mention  of  his 
government  and  kingdom,  and  the  deliverance  by 
him  in  Isaiah,  Daniel,  and  other  prophecies  under- 
stood of  the  Messiah,  were  so  well  knov\n  to  the 
Jews,  and  had  so  raised  their  hopes  of  him  about 
ihis  lime,  which,  by  their  account,  was  to  be  the 
time  of  his  coming  to  restore  the  lungdom  to  Is- 
rael ;  that  Herod  no  sooner  heard  of  the  magi's 
inquirv  after  him  that  was  born  king  of  the  Jews: 
but  he  forthwith  demanded  of  the  chief  priests 
and  Scribes,  where  the  Messiah  should  be  born  ; 
not  doubting,  but  if  there  were  any  king  born  to 
the  Jews,  it  was  the  Messiah,  whose  coming  was 
now  the  general  expectation,  as  appears  Luke  iii. 
15 : — "  The  people  being  in  expectation,  and  all 
men  musing  in  their  hearts  of  John,  whether  he 
were  the  Messiah  or  not."  And  when  the  priests 
and  Levites  sent  to  ask  him  who  he  was,  he,  un- 
derstanding their  meaning,  answers,  John  i.  20, 
that  he  was  not  the  Messiah  ;  but  he  bears  wit- 
ness that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God  ;  i.  c.  the 
Messiah. 

51.  This  looking  for  the  Messiah  at  this  time 
we  see  also  in  Simeon,  who  is  said  to  be  waiting 
for  the  consolation  of  Israel :  and  having  the  child 
Jesus  in  his  arms,  he  says  he  had  "seen  the  sal- 
vation of  the  Lord."  And  "Anna  coming  at  the 
same  instant  into  the  temple,  she  gave  thanks  also 
unto  the  Lord,  and  spake  of  him  to  all  them  that 
looked  for  redemption  in  Israel."  And  of  Joseph  of 
Arimathea  it  is  said,  that  "  he  also  expected  the 
kingdom  of  God  ;"  by  all  which  was  meant  the 
coming  of  the  Messiah.  And  Luke  xix.  it  is  said, 
"They  thought  that  the  kingdom  of  God  should 
immediately  appear." 

52.  This  being  premised,  let  us  see  what  it  was 
that  John  the  Baptist  preached,  when  he  first  en- 
tered upon  his  ministry.  That  St.  Matthew  tells 
us,  "In  those  days  came  John  the  Baptist,preach- 
ing  in  the  wilderness  of  Judea,  saying,  repent,  for 
tlie  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand."  This  was  a 
declaration  of  the  coming  of  the  Messiah  ;  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  and  the  kingdom  of  God  be- 
ing the  same,  as  is  clear  out  of  several  places  of 
the  evangelists  ;  and  both  signifying  the  kingdom 
of  the  Messiah.  The  profession  which  John  the 
Baptist  made,  when  sent  to  the  Jews,  John  i.  19, 
was,  "that  he  was  not  the  Messiah,  but  that 
Jesus  was."  This  wdl  appear  to  any  one  who  wLU 
compare  verse  26,  34,  with  John  iii."  27,  30.  The 
Jews  being  very  inquisitive  to  know  whether  John 
were  the  Messiah,  he  positively  denies  it,  but  tells 
ihem,  he  was  only  his  forerunner ;  and  that  there 
stood  one  amongst  them,  who  would  follow  him, 

whose  shoe-latchet  he  was  not  worthy  to  untie. 

The  next  day,  seeing  Jesus,  he  says,  he  was  the 
man  ;  and  that  his  own  baptizuig  in  water  was 


Acts  XV.  9. 


t  Acts  X.  43. 


*  Chapter  ix. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


25 


only  that  Jesus  might  be  manifested  to  the  world  ; 
and  that  he  knew  him  not,  till  he  saw  the  Holy 
Ghost  descend  upon  him.  He  that  sent  him  to 
baptize  having  told  him,  that  he  on  whom  he  should 
see  the  Spirit  descend,  and  rest  upon,  he  it  was 
that  should  baptize  with  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  that 
therefore  he  witnessed,  that  "  this  was  the  Son  of 
God,  the  Messiah:"  and  chap,  iii.,  they  came  to 
John  the  Baptist,  and  tell  him,  that  Jesus  baptized 
and  that  all  men  went  to  him.  John  answers,  he 
has  his  authority  from  heaven :  you  know  I  never 
said,  I  was  the  Messiah,  but  that  I  was  sent  be- 
fore him :  he  must  increase,  but  I  must  decrease  ; 
for  God  hath  sent  him,  and  he  speaks  the  words 
of  God,  and  God  hath  given  all  things  into  the 
liands  of  his  Son ;  "  and  he  that  believes  on  the 
Son  hath  eternal  life."  The  same  doctrine,  and 
nothing  else,  but  what  was  preached  by  the  apos- 
tles afterwards  ;  as  we  have  seen  all  through  the 
Acts,  V.  g.  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah.  And  tliat 
it  was  that  John  bears  witness  of  our  Saviour,  as 
Jesus  himself  says,  John  v.  33. 

53.  This  also  was  the  declaration  that  was 
given  of  him  at  his  baptism,  by  a  voice  from 
heaven  :  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am 
well  pleased  ;"  which  was  a  declaration  of  him  to 
be  the  Messiah ;  the  Son  of  God  being  (as  we 
have  showed)  understood  to  signify  the  Messiah. 
To  which  we  may  add  the  first  mention  of  him 
after  his  conception,  in  the  words  of  the  angel  to 
Joseph :  "Thou  shalt  call  his  name  Jesus,"  or  Sa- 
viour ;  "  for  he  shall  save  his  people  from  their 
sins."  It  was  a  received  doctrme  in  the  Jewish 
nation,  that  at  the  coming  of  the  Messiah  all  their 
sins  should  be  forgiven  them.  These  words  there- 
fore of  the  angel  we  may  look  on  as  a  declaration 
that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah ;  whereof  these 
words,  "  his  people,"  are  a  further  mark  ;  which 
suppose  him  to  have  a  people,  and  consequently  to 
be  a  king. 

54.  After  his  baptism,  Jesus  himself  enters  upon 
his  ministry.  But  before  we  examine  what  it  was 
he  proposed  to  be  believed,  we  must  observe,  that 
there  is  a  threefold  declaration  of  the  Messiah :  1. 
By  miracles.  The  spirit  of  prophecy  had  now  for 
many  ages  forsaken  the  Jews;  and  though  their 
commonwealth  were  not  quite  dissolved  but  that 
tiiey  lived  under  their  own  laws,  yet  they  were 
under  a  foreign  dominion,  subject  to  the  Romans. 
In  this  state,  their  account  of  the  time  being  up, 
they  were  in  expectation  of  the  Messiah,  and  of 
dehverance  by  him  in  a  kingdom  he  was  to  set 
up,  according  to  their  ancient  prophecies  of  him  ; 
which  gave  them  hopes  of  an  extraordinary  man 
yet  to  come  to  God,  who  with  an  extraordinary 
and  divine  power  and  miracles,  should  evidence 
his  mission,  and  work  their  deliverance.  And  of 
any  such  extraordinary  person,  who  should  have 
the  power  of  doing  miracles,  they  had  no  other 
expectation  but  only  of  their  Messiah.  One  great 
prophet  and  worker  of  miracles,  and  only  one 
more,  they  expected,  wli**  was  to  be  the  Messiah. 
And  therefore  we  see  the  people  justified  their 
"  believing  in  him,"  that  is,  their  believing  him  to 
be  the  Messiah,  because  of  the  miracles  he  did  ; 
"  and  many  of  the  people  believed  in  him,  and  said. 
When  the  Messiah  cometh,  will  he  do  more  mira- 
cles than  this  man  hath  done  V  And  when  the 
Jews,  at  the  feast  of  dedication,  coming  about  him. 


said  unto  him.  How  long  dost  thou  make  us  doubt  1 
If  thou  be  the  Messiah,  tell  us  plainly  ;  Jesus  an- 
Ewered  them,  I  told  you,  and  ye  believed  not :  the 
works  that  I  do  in  my  Father's  name,  bear  wit- 
ness  of  me.  And  John  v.  36,  lie  says,  « I  have  a 
greater  witness  than  that  of  John  ;  for  the  works 
which  the  Father  hath  given  mc  to  do,  the  same 
works  that  I  do  bear  witness  of  me,  that  the  Fa- 
ther  hath  sent  me."  Where,  by  the  way,  we 
may  observe,  that  his  bcmg  "sent  by  the  Father," 
is  but  another  way  of  expressing  the  Messiah  ; 
which  is  evident  from  this  place  here,  John  v., 
compared  with  that  of  John  x.,  last  quoted  :  for 
there  he  says,  that  his  works  bear  witness  of  him  ; 
and  what  was  that  witness  1  viz.  tiiat  he  was  the 
Messiah.  Here  again  lie  says,  that  his  works 
bear  witness  of  him  ;  and  what  is  tliat  witness  ■? 
viz.  "that  the  Father  sent  him."  By  which  we 
are  taught,  that  to  be  sent  by  the  Father,  and  to 
be  the  Messiah,  was  the  same  thmg  in  his  way 
of  declaring  himself.  And  accordingly  we  find 
many  hearkened  and  assented  to  his  testimony, 
and  beHeved  on  him,  seeing  the  things  that  he  did.* 
55.  2.  Another  way  of  declaring  the  coming 
of  the  Messiah,  was  by  phrases  and  circumlocu" 
tions,  that  did  signify  or  intimate  his  coming, 
though  not  in  direct  words  pointing  out  the  per- 
son. The  most  usual  of  these  were,  "  The  king- 
dom of  God,  and  of  heaven  :"f  because  it  was  that 

*  John  iv.  53,  and  xi.  45;  and  elsewhere. 

+  From  the  extreme  acuteness  and  subtilty  of  his 
mind,  Locke,  who  here  seems  to  be  perfecily  right 
in  his  views,  sometimes  introduces  too  much  nicety, 
perhaps,  into  his  interpretations  of  Scripture,  though 
the  method  he  followed  and  the  pains  lie  took  to  ar- 
rive at  truth  deserve  the  admiration  of  every  Chris- 
tian. In  his  Notes  on  the  epistle  to  the  Galatians  i. 
4, — oTrws  e^eKtjTai  rijiai  CK  Tov  svearuiTos  atuivoi  vovtipov — 
"  that  he  might  take  us  out  of  this  present  evil  world, 
or  age;"  so  the  Greek  words  signify.  Whereby, 
he  says,  it  cannot  be  thought  that  St.  Paul  meant 
that  Christians  were  to  be  immediately  removed 
into  the  other  world.  Therefore  tvtoruf  aia>v  must 
signify  something  else  than  present  world,  in  the 
ordinary  import  of  these  words  in  English.  Aiof 
ovTcs,  1  Cor.  ii.  6,  8,  and  in  other  places,  plainly  sig- 
nifies the  Jewish  nation,  under  the  Mosaical  consti- 
tution ;  and  it  suits  very  well  with  the  apostle's  de- 
sign in  this  epistle,  that  it  should  do  so  here.  God 
has  in  this  world  but  one  kingdom  and  one  people. 
The  nation  of  the  Jews  were  the  kingdom  and  people 
of  God  whilst  the  law  stood.  And  this  kingdom  oi 
God  under  the  Mosaical  constitution  was  called 
amv  ovTOi,  "  this  age,"  or,  as  it  is  commonly  trans- 
lated, "  this  world,"  to  which  aiuv  tvcanas,  "  the 
present  world,  or  age,"  here  answers.  But  the 
kingdom  of  God,  which  was  to  be  under  the  Mes- 
siah, wherein  the  economy  and  constitution  of  the 
Jewish  church,  and  the  nation  itself,  that,  in  oppo- 
sition to  Christ,  adhered  to  it,  was  to  be  laid  aside, 
is  in  the  New  Testament  called  atuiv  itcWuiv, — "  the 
world,  or  age,  to  come ;"  .so  that  Christ's  taking  them 
out  of  the  present  world,  may,  without  any  violence 
to  the  wo'-ds,  be  understood  to  signify  his  setting 
them  free  from  the  Mosaical  constitution.  This  is 
suitable  to  the  design  of  this  epistle,  and  what  St. 
Paul  has  declared  in  many  other  places.  See  Col. 
ii.  14—17,  and  20,  which  agrees  with  this  place,  and 
Rom.  vii.  4,  6.  The  law  is  said  to  be  "  contrary  to 
us,"  Col.  ii.  14,  and  to  "  work  wrath,"  Rom.  iv.  l."*, 
and  St.  Paul  speaks  very  diminishingly  of  the  ritual 
parts  of  it  in  many  nlaces.    But  yet,  if  all  this  may 


26 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


which  was  oftenest  spoken  of  the  Messiah,  in  the 
Old  Testament,  in  very  plain  words  ;  and  a  king- 
dom was  that  which  tlie  Jews  rnost  looked  after 
and  wished  for.  In  that  known  place,  Isaiah  Lx. : 
"The  government  shall  be  upon  his  shoulders  ; 
he  shall  be  called  the  Prince  of  peace  :  of  the  in- 
crease of  his  government  and  peace  there  shall 
be  no  end  :  upon  the  throne  of  David,  and  upon 
his  kingdom,  to  order  it,  and  to  establish  it  with 
justice,  from  henceforth,  even  for  ever."  Micah 
V.  2.  "  But  thou,  Bethlehem  Ephratah,  though 
thou  be  httle  among  the  thousands  of  Judea,  yet 
out  of  thee  shall  he  come  forth  unto  me,  that  is  to 
be  the  ruler  in  Israel."  And  Daniel,  besides  that 
he  calls  him  "  Messiah  the  prince,"*  in  the  ac- 
count of  his  vision  "  of  the  Son  of  man,"  says, 
"There  was  given  him  dominion,  glory,  and  a 
kingdom,  that  all  people,  nations,  and  languages 
should  serve  him  :  his  dominion  is  an  everlasting 
dominion,  which  shall  not  pass  away  ;  and  his 
kingdom  that  which  shall  not  be  destroyed."! 
So  that  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  were  common  phrases  amongst  the  Jews, 
to  signify  the  times  of  the  Messiah.  "  One  of  the 
Jews  that  sat  at  meat  with  him,  said  unto  him, 
Blessed  is  he  that  shall  eat  bread  in  the  kingdom 
of  God."  The  Pharisees  demanded,  "  When  the 
kingdom  of  God  should  come  V  and  St.  John 
Baptist  came,  saying,  "  Repent,  the  kingdom  of 
hearen  is  at  hand  :"  a  phrase  he  would  not  have 
used  in  preaching,  had  it  not  been  understood. 

56.  There  are  other  expressions  that  signified 
the  Messiah,  and  his  coming,  which  we  shall  take 
notice  of  as  they  come  in  our  way.  3.  By  plain 
and  direct  words,  declaring  the  doctrine  of  the 
Messiah  ;  speaking  out  that  Jesus  was  he  ;  as  we 
see  the  apostles  did,  when  they  went  about  preach- 
ing the  gospel,  after  our  Saviour's  resurrection. 
This  was  the  open,  clear  way,  and  that  which  one 
would  think  the  Messiah  himself,  when  he  came, 
should  have  taken  ;  especially  if  it  were  of  that 
moment,  that  upon  men's  believing  him  to  be  the 
Messiah  depended  the  forgiveness  of  their  sins. 
And  yet  we  see  that  our  Saviour  did  not ;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  for  the  most  part,  made  no  other  dis- 
covery of  himself,  at  least  in  Judea,  and  at  the 
beginning  of  his  ministry,  but  in  the  two  former 
ways,  which  were  more  obscure  ;  not  declaring 
himself  to  be  the  Messiah,  any  otherwise  than  as 
it  might  be  gathered  from  the  miracles  he  did,  and 
the  conformity  of  his  life  and  actions  with  the 
prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament  concerning  him  ; 
and  from  some  general  discourses  of  the  kingdom 
of  the  Messiah  being  come,  under  the  name  of  the 
"kingdom  of  God,"  and  "of  heaven."  Nay,  so 
far  was  he  from  pubhcly  owning  himself  to  be  the 
Messiah,  that  he  forbade  the  doing  of  it :  "  He 
asked  his  disciples,  Whom  do  men  say  that  I  am? 


not  be  thought  sufficient  to  justify  the  applying  of 
the  epithet  rrovripov,  "  evil,"  to  it,  that  scruple  will  be 
removed,  if  we  take  cvcoTiot  aiuv,  "  this  present 
-world,"  here,  for  the  Jewish  constitution  and  nation 
together,  in  which  sense  it  may  very  well  be  called 
evil,  though  the  apostle,  out  of  his  wonted  tender- 
ness to  his  nation,  forbears  to  name  them  openly, 
and  uses  a  doubtful  expression,  which  might  com- 
prehend the  heathen  world  also,  though  he  chiefly 
pointed  at  the  Jews.— Ed. 

♦  Ch.  ix.  25.  t  Ibid.  vii. 


And  they  answered,  John  the  Baptist ;  but  some 
say  EHas,  and  others,  one  of  the  prophets."  (So. 
that  it  is  evident,  that  even  those  who  believed 
him  an  extraordinary  person,  knew  not  yet  who 
he  was,  or  that  he  gave  himself  out  for  the  Mes- 
siah ;  though  this  was  in  the  third  year  of  his  mi- 
nistry, and  not  a  year  before  his  death.)  "  And 
he  saith  unto  them,  But  whom  say  ye  that  I  am '? 
And  Peter  answered,  and  said  unto  him,  Thou 
art  the  Messiah.  And  he,  charged  them  that  they 
should  tell  no  man  of  him."*  And  devils  came 
out  of  many,  crying,  "  Thou  art  the  Messiah,  the 
Son  of  God  :  and  he  rebuking  them,  suffered  them 
not  to  speak,  that  they  knew  him  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah."! "  Unclean  spirits,  when  they  saw  him, 
foil  down  before  him.  and  cried,  saying,  Thou  art 
the  Son  of  God  :  and  he  straitly  charged  them 
that  they  should  not'  make  him  known."  Here 
again  we  may  observe,  from  the  comparing  of  the 
two  texts,  that  ''  thou  art  the  Son  of  God,"  or 
"thou  art  the  Messiah,"  were  indifferently  used 
for  the  same  thing.  But  to  return  to  the  matter 
in  hand. 

57.  This  concealment  of  himself  will  seem 
strange,  in  one  who  was  come  to  bring  light  into 
the  world,  and  was  to  suffer  death  for  the  testimo- 
ny of  the  truth.  This  reservedness  will  be  thought 
to  look  as  if  he  had  a  mind  to  conceal  himself,  and 
not  to  be  known  to  the  world  for  the  Messiah,  nor 
to  be  believed  on  as  such.  But  we  shall  be  of 
another  mind,  and  conclude  this  proceeding  of  his 
according  to  divine  wisdom,  and  suited  to  a  fuller 
manifestation  and  evidence  of  his  being  the  Mes- 
siah, when  we  consider,  that  he  was  to  fill  out  the 
time  foretold  of  his  ministry  ;  and,  after  a  life  illus- 
trious in  miracles  and  good  works,  attended  with 
humility,  meekness,  patience,  and  sufferings,  and 
every  way  conformable  to  the  prophecies  of  him, 
should  be  led  as  a  sheep  to  the  slaughter,  and 
with  all  quiet  and  submission  be  brought  to  the 
cross,  though  there  were  no  guilt  nor  fault  found 
in  him.  This  could  not  have  been,  if,  as  soon  as 
he  appeared  in  public,  and  began  to  preach,  he 
had  presently  professed  himself  to  have  been  the 
Messiah,  the  King  that  owned  that  kingdom  he 
published  to  be  at  hand :  for  the  sanhedrim  would 
then  have  laid  hold  on  it,  to  have  got  him  into 
their  power,  and  thereby  have  taken  away  his  life  ; 
at  least,  they  would  have  disturbed  his  ministry, 
and  hindered  the  work  he  was  about.  That  this 
made  him  cautious,  and  avoid,  as  much  as  he 
could,  the  occasions  of  provoking  them,  and  fall- 
ing into  their  hands,  is  plain  from  John  vii.  1: 
"  After  these  things  Jesus  walked  in  Galilee  ;"  out 
of  the  way  of  the  chief  priests  and  rulers  ;  "  for  he 
would  not  walk  in  Jewry,  because  the  Jews  sought 
to  kUl  him."  Thus  making  good  what  he  foretold 
them  at  Jerusalem,  when  at  the  first  passover,  at 
his  beginning  to  preach  the  gospel,  upon  his  cur- 
ing the  man  at  the  pool  of  Bethesda,  they  sought 
to  kill  him.  John  v.  "  Ye  have  not,"  says  he, 
"  his  word  abiding  amongst  you  :  for  whom  he 
hath  sent,  him  ye  believe  not.'"'  This  was  spoken 
more  particularly  to  the  Jews  of  Jerusalem,  who 
were  the  forward  men,  zealous  to  take  away  his 
hfe  ;  and  it  imports  that  because  of  their  unbelief 
and  opposition  to  him,  "  the  word  of  God,"  that 


♦  Luke  iv.  41. 


tMarkiii.  11,  12. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


27 


is,  the  preaching  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah, 
which  is  often  called  "  the  word  of  God,"  did  not 
stay  amongst  them  : — he  could  not  stay  amongst 
them,  preach  and  explain  to  them  the  kingdom  of 
the  Messiah. 

58.  That  the  word  of  God  here  signifies  the 
word  of  God  that  should  make  Jesus  known  to 
them  to  be  the  Messiah,  is  evident  from  the  con- 
text ;  and  this  meaning  of  this  place  is  made  good 
by  the  event :  for  after  this  we  hear  no  more  of 
Jesus  at  Jerusalem,  until  the  pentecost  come 
twelvemonth  ;  though  it  is  not  to  be  doubted  but 
that  he  was  there  the  next  passover,  and  other 
feasts  between,  but  privately  And  now  at  Jeru- 
salem, at  the  feast  of  pentecost,  near  fifteen  months 
after,  he  says  very  httle  of  any  thing,  and  not  a 
word  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  being  come  or  at 
hand;  nor  did  he  any  miracle  there.  And  re- 
turning to  Jerusalem  at  the  feast  of  tabernacles, 
it  is  plain,  that  from  this  time  till  then,  which  was 
a  year  and  a  half,  he  had  not  taught  them  at  Je- 
rusalem. For,  1.  It  is  said,  that  he  teaching  in 
the  temple  at  the  feast  of  tabernacles,  "  The  Jews 
marvelled,  saying,  how  knoweth  this  man  letters, 
having  never  learned?"*  a  sign  they  had  not 
been  used  to  his  preaching  ;  for  if  they  had,  they 
would  not  now  have  marvelled.  2.  He  says  thus 
to  them  :  "  Did  not  Moses  give  you  the  law,  yet 
none  of  you  keep  the  law  ?  Why  go  you  about 
to  kUl  me  I  One  work,  or  miracle,  I  did  here 
amongst  you,  and  ye  all  marvel.  Moses  there- 
fore gave  unto  you  circumcision,  and  ye  on  the 
Sabbath-day  circumcise  a  man  ;  if  a  man  on  the 
Sabbath-day  receive  circumcision,  that  the  law  of 
Moses  should  not  be  broken,  are  ye  angry  with  me, 
because  I  have  made  a  man  every  way  whole  on 
the  Sabbath-day  V  Which  is  a  direct  defence  of 
what  he  did  at  Jerusalem  a  year  and  a  half  before. 
The  work  he  here  speaks  of  we  find  reported, 
John  V.  He  had  not  preached  to  them  there  from 
that  time  till  this,  but  had  made  good  what  he  then 
told  them :  "  Ye  have  not  the  word  of  God  remain- 
ing among  you,  because  whom  he  hath  sent,  ye 
believe  not:"  whereby,  I  think,  he  signifies  his 
not  staying  and  being  frequent  amongst  them  at 
Jerusalem,  preaching  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom, 
because  their  great  unl)elief,  opposition,  and  ma- 
lice to  him,  would  not  permit  it. 

59.  This  was  manifestly  so  in  fact :  for  the  first 
miracle  he  did  at  Jerusalem,  which  was  at  the 
second  passover  after  his  bnptism,  brought  him  in 
danger  of  his  life.  Hereupon  we  lind  he  forbore 
preaching  again  there  till  the  feast  of  tabernacles, 
immediately  preceding  his  last  passover :  so  that 
till  half  a  year  before  his  passion,  he  did  but  one 
miracle,  and  preached  but  once  publicly  at  Jeru- 
salem. These  trials  he  made  there  ;  but  found 
their  unbelief  such,  that  if  he  had  staid  and  per- 
sisted to  preach  the  good  tidings  of  the  kingdom, 
and  to  show  himself  by  miracles  among  them,  he 
could  not  have  had  time  and  freedom  to  do  those 
works  which  his  Father  had  given  him  to  finish, 
as  he  says,  verse  36.  They  ail  imaginable  ways 
attacked  him,  and  he  as  readily  eluded  all  their 
attempts,  by  the  wonderful  quickness  and  conduct 
of  an  unparalleled  wisdom.  Here,  at  this  feast  of 
tabernacles,  "  The  Scribes  and  Pharisees  brought 


John  vii. 


imto  him  a  woman  taken  in  adultery ;  they  say 
unto  him,  Master,  Moses  in  the  law  commanded 
us  that  such  should  be  stoned,  but  what  sayest 
thou'!  This  they  said  tempting  him,  that  they 
might  accuse  him."  It  is  plain  they  hoped  that 
this  criminal  cause  of  a  woman  just  taken  in  the 
fact,  brought  before  him  in  the  sight  of  the  people, 
would  draw  him,  if  he  would  preserve  the  opinion 
of  being  the  Messiah,  their  king,  to  give  judgment 
in  it,  and  by  the  exercise  of  such  an  authority  ex- 
pose him  to  the  Roman  deputy.  Some  such  accu- 
sation they  watched  for  ;  but  they  could  never  get 
any  such  advantage  against  him :  he  marvellously 
defeated  their  design,  and  without  lessening  him- 
self, sent  them  away  covered  with  shame  and  si- 
lence. 

60.  When,  upon  the  curing  of  the  withered  hand 
on  the  Sabbath-day,  "  The  Pharisees  took  counsel 
with  the  Herodians  how  they  might  destroy  him, 
Jesus  withdrew  himself  with  his  disciples  to  the 
sea:  and  a  great  multitude  from  Galilee  followed 
him,  and  from  Judea,  and  from  Jerusalem,  and 
from  Idumea,  and  from  beyond  Jordan,  and  they 
about  Tyre  and  Sidon,  a  great  multitude  ;  when 
they  had  heard  what  great  things  he  did,  came 
unto  him,  and  he  healed  them  all,  and  charged 
them  that  they  should  not  make  him  known  ;  that 
it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  the  pro- 
phet Isaiah,  saying.  Behold  my  servant  whom  I 
have  chosen;  my  beloved,  in  whom  my  soul  is 
well  pleased  :  I  will  put  my  Spirit  upon  him,  and 
he  shall  show  judgment  to  the  Gentiles  :  he  shall 
not  strive,  nor  cry,  neither  shall  any  man  hear  his 
voice  in  the  streets."* 

61.  And  John  xi.  Upon  the  news  of  our  Sa- 
viour's raising  Lazarus  from  the  dead,  "  the  chief 
priests  and  Pharisees  convened  the  sanhedrim,  and 
said.  What  do  we  !  For  this  man  does  many  mi- 
racles. When  from  that  day  forth  they  took  coun- 
sel  together  for  to  put  him  to  death.  Jesus  there- 
fore walked  no  more  openly  amongst  the  Jews." 
His  miracles  had  now  so  much  declared  him  to  be 
the  Messiah,  that  the  Jews  could  no  longer  bear 
him,  nor  he  trust  himself  amongst  them  ;  "  but 
went  thence  into  a  country  near  to  the  wilderness, 
into  a  city  called  Ephraim,  and  there  contiimed 
with  his  disciples."  This  was  but  a  little  before 
his  last  passover,  as  appears  by  the  following 
words:  "And  the  Jews'  passover  was  nigh  at 
hand  :"  and  he  could  not,  now  his  miracles  had 
made  him  so  well  known,  have  been  secure  the 
little  time  that  remained  till  his  hour  was  fully  come, 
if  he  had  not,  with  his  wonted  and  necessary  cau- 
tion, withdrawn,  and  walked  no  more  openly 
amongst  the  Jews,  till  his  time  (at  the  next  pass- ' 
over)  was  fully  come  ;  and  then  again  he  appear- 
ed aniouffst  Ihem  openly. 

62.  Nor  would  the  Romans  have  suftered  hmi,  - 

if  he  had  gone  about  preaching  that  he  was  the  i 
king  whom  the  Jews  expected.  Such  an  accusa- 
tion would  have  been  forwardly  brought  agamst 
him  by  the  Jews,  if  they  could  have  heard  it  out  of 
his  own  mouth ;  and  that  had  been  his  public  doc- 
trine to  his  followers,  which  was  openly  preached 
by  his  apostles  after  his  death,  when  he  appeared 
no  more.  And  of  this  they  were  accused,  Act^ 
xvii.     "  But  the  Jews  which  believed  not,  moved 


Matt,  xii  i  Mark 


28 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


with  envy,  took  unto  them  certain  lewd  fellows  of 
the  baser  sort,  and  gathered  a  company,  and  set  all 
the  city  in  an  uproar,  and  assaulted  the  house  of 
Jason,  and  sought  to  bring  them  out  to  the  people. 
And  when  they  found  them  (Paul  and  Silas)  not, 
they  drew  Jason  and  certain  brethren  unto  the 
rulers  of  the  city,  crying.  These  that  have  turned 
the  world  upside  down,  are  come  hither  also,  whom 
Jason  hath  received  :  and  these  all  do  contrary  to 
the  decrees  of  Csesar,  saying,  that  there  is  another 
king,  one  Jesus.  And  they  troubled  the  people 
and  the  rulers  of  the  city,  when  they  heard  these 
things  :  and  when  they  had  taken  security  of  Jason 
and  the  other,  they  let  them  go." 

63.  Though  the  magistrates  of  the  world  had  no 
great  regard  to  the  talk  of  a  king,  who  had  suffer- 
ed death,  and  appeared  no  longer  any  where  ;  yet 
if  our  Saviour  had  openly  declared  this  of  himself 
in  his  life  time,  with  a  train  of  disciples  and  follow- 
ers every  where  owning  and  crying  him  up  for 
their  king,  the  Roman  governor  of  Judea  could 
not  have  forborne  to  liave  taken  notice  of  it,  and 
have  made  use  of  their  force  against  him.  This 
the  Jews  were  not  mistaken  in ;  and  therefore 
made  use  of  it  as  the  strongest  accusation,  and 
likeliest  to  prevail  with  Pilate  against  him  for  the 
taking  away  his  hfe  ;  it  being  treason,  and  an  un- 
pardonable offence,  which  could  not  escape  death 
from  a  Roman  deputy,  without  the  forfeiture  of  his 
own  life.  Thus  then  they  accuse  him  to  Pilate  : 
"We  found  this  fellow  perverting  the  nation,  and 
forbidding  to  give  tribute  to  Caesar ;  saying,  that 
he  himself  is  a  king  ;"  or  rather,  the  Messiah,  the 
kmg. 

64.  Our  Saviour  indeed,  now  that  his  time  was 
come,  (and  he  in  custody,  and  forsaken  of  all  tlie 
world,  and  so  out  of  all  danger  of  raising  any  se- 
dition or  disturbance,)  owns  himself  to  Pilate  to 
be  a  king  :  after  having  first  told  Pilate,  "  that  his 
kingdom  was  not  of  this  world  ;"  and  for  a  king- 
domin  another  world,  Pilate  knew  that  his  mast^  body  of  the  people  would  certainly,  upon  his  de 


selves  just  men,  that  might  take  hold  of  liis  words, 
that  so  they  might  deUver  him  unto  the  power  and 
authority  of  the  governor."  And  the  very  thin£f 
wherein  they  hoped  to  entrap  him  in  this  place 
was  paying  tribute  to  Cfesar,  which  they  after- 
wards falsely  accused  him  of.  And  what  would 
they  have  done,  if  ])e  had  before  them  professed 
himself  to  have  been  the  Messiah,  their  king  and 
deliverer  1 

66.  And  here  we  may  observe  the  wonderful 
providence  of  God,  who  had  so  ordered  the  state 
of  the  Jews,  at  the  time  when  his  Son  was  to  come 
into  the  world,  that  though  neither  their  civil  con- 
stitution nor  religious  worship  were  dissolved,  yet 
the  power  of  Ufe  and  death  was  taken  from  them  ; 
whereby  he  had  an  opportunity  to  publish  the  king- 
dom of  the  Messiah ;  that  is,  his  own  royalty, 
under  the  name  of  the  kingdom  of  God  and  of 
heaven  ;  which  the  Jews  well  enough  understood, 
and  would  certainly  have  put  him  to  death  for, 
had  the  power  been  in  their  own  hands.  But  this 
being  no  matter  of  accusation  to  the  Romans, 
hindered  him  not  from  speaking  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  as  he  did  ;  sometimes  in  reference  to  his 
appearing  in  the  world,  and  being  believed  on  by 
particular  persons  ;  sometimes  in  reference  to  the 
power  that  should  be  given  him  by  the  Father  at 
the  resurrection ;  and  sometimes  in  reference  to 
his  coming  to  judge  the  world  at  the  last  day,  in 
the  full  glory  and  completion  of  his  kingdom. 
These  were  ways  of  declaring  himself,  which  the 
Jews  could  lay  no  hold  on,  to  bring  him  in  danger 
with  Pontius  Pilate,  and  get  him  seized  and  put  to 
death. 

67.  Another  reason  there  was  that  hindered 
him  as  much  as  the  former  from  professing  himself 
in  express  words  to  be  the  Messiah ;  and  that  was, 
that  the  whole  nation  of  the  Jews  expecting  at  this 
time  their  Messiah,  and  deliverance  by  him  from 
the  subjection  they  were  to  a  foreign  yoke,  the 


at  Rome  concerned  not  himself.  But  had  there 
been  any  the  least  appearance  of  truth  in  the  al 
legations  of  the  Jews,  that  lie  had  perverted  the 
nation,  forbidding  to  pay  tribute  to  Caesar, 
drawing  the  people  after  him  as  their  king,  Pilate 
would  not  so  readily  have  pronounced  him  mno 
cent.  But  we  see  what  he  said  to  his  accusers  : 
Pilate,  "  when  he  had  called  together  the  chief 
priests  and  the  rulers  of  the  people,  said  unto 
them.  You  have  brought  this  man  unto  me,  as  one 
that  perverteth  the  people  ;  and  behold  I  having 
examined  him  before  you,  have  found  no  fault  in 
this  man  touching  those  thmgs  whereof  you  accuse 
him  ;  no,  nor  yet  Herod,  for  I  sent  you  to  him  ; 
and  lo,  nothing  worthy  of  death  is  done  by  him." 
And  therefore  finding  a  man  of  that  mean  condi- 
tion, and  innocent  life,  (no  mover  of  seditions,  or 
disturber  of  the  public  peace,)  without  a  friend  or 
a  follower,  he  would  have  dismissed  him,  as  a  king 
of  no  consequence  ;  as  an  innocent  man,  falsely 
and  maliciously  accused  by  the  Jews. 

65.  How  necessary  this  caution  was  in  our  Sa- 
viour, to  say  or  do  nothing  that  might  justly  offend, 
or  render  him  suspected  to  the  Roman  governor, 
and  how  glad  the  Jews  woidd  have  been  to  have 
any  such  thing  against  him,  we  may  see,  Luke  xx. 
20 :  "  The  chief  priests  and  the  Scribes  watched 
him,  and  sent  forth  spies,  who  should  feign  them- 


claring  himself  to  be  the  Messiah  their  king  have 
rose  up  in  rebellion,  and  set  him  at  the  head  of 
them.  And,  indeed,  the  miracles  that  he  did,  so 
much  disposed  them  to  think  him  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah, that,  though  shrouded  under  the  obscurity  of 
a  mean  condition,  and  a  very  private  simjile  life  ; 
though  he  passed  for  a  Galilean,  (his  birth  at  Beth- 
lehem being  then  concealed,)  and  assumed  not  to 
himself  any  power  or  authority,  or  so  much  as  the 
name  of  the  Messiah  ;  yet  he  could  hardly  avoid 
being  set  up  by  a  tumult,  and  proclaimed  their 
king.  So  John  tells  us,  chap.  vi.  "  Then  those 
men,  when  they  had  seen  the  miracles  that  Jesus 
(hd,  said,  This  is  of  a  truth  that  prophet  that  should 
come  into  the  world.  When,  therefore,  Jesus  per- 
ceived that  they  would  come  lo  take  him  by  force 
to  make  him  king,  he  departed  again  into  a  moun- 
tain  himself  alone."  Tliis  was  upon  his  feeding  of 
five  thousand  with  five  barley  loaves  and  two  fishes. 
So  hard  was  it  for  him,  doing  those  miracles  which 
were  necessary  to  testJfy  his  mission,  and  wliich 
often  drew  great  multitudes  after  liim,  to  keep  the 
heady  and  liasty  multitude  from  such  disorder  as 
would  have  involved  him  in  it,  and  have  disturbed 
the  course,  and  cut  short  the  time  of  his  ministry, 
and  drawn  on  him  tlie  reputation  and  death  of  a 
turbulent  seditious  malefactor ;  contrary  to  the  de- 
sign of  his  doming,  which  was  to  be  offered  up  a 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


29 


lamb,  blameless  and  void  of  offence  ;  his  innocence 
appearing  to  all  the  world,  even  to  him  that  deli- 
vered him  up  to  be  crucified.  This  it  would  have 
been  impossible  to  have  avoided,  if  in  his  preach- 
ing every  where,  he  had  openly  assumed  to  himself 
the  title  of  their  Messiah ;  which  was  allv.'as  want- 
ing to  set  the  people  in  a  flame  ;  who,  drawn  by 
his  miracles,  and  the  hopes  of  finding  a  deliverer 
in  so  extraordinary  a  man,  followed  him  in  great 
numbers.  We  read  every  where  of  multitudes ; 
and  in  Luke  xii.  1,  of  myriads  that  were  gatliered 
about  him.  This  conflux  of  people,  thus  disposed, 
would  not  have  failed,  upon  liis  declaring  himself 
to  be  tlie  Messiaii,  to  have  made  a  commotion,  and 
with  force  set  him  up  for  their  king.  It  is  plain, 
therefore,  from  these  tv.'o  reasons,  why  (thougli  he 
came  to  preach  the  gospel,  and  convert  the  world 
to  a  belief  of  his  being  the  Messiah ;  and  though 
ye  says  so  much  of  his  kingdom,  under  the  title  of 
tlie  kingdom  of  God,  and  the  kingdom  of  heaven) 
he  yet  makes  it  not  his  business  to  persuade  them 
that  he  himself  is  the  Messiah ;  nor  does,  in  his 
public  preaching,  declare  himself  to  be  him.  He 
inculcates  to  the  people,  on  all  occasions,  that  the 
kingdom  of  God  is  come.  He  shows  the  way  of 
admittance  into  this  kingdom,  viz.  repentance  and 
baptism  ;  and  teaches  the  laws  of  it,  viz.  good  life, 
according  to  the  strictest  rules  of  virtue  and  mo- 
rality. But  who  the  king  was  of  this  kingdom,  he 
leaves  to  his  miracles  to  point  out  to  those  wlio 
would  consider  what  he  did,  and  make  the  right 
use  of  it  now  ;  or  to  witness  to  those  who  should 
hearken  to  the  apostles  hereafter,  wiien  they 
preached  it  in  plain  words,  and  called  upon  them  to 
believe  it,  after  his  resurrection ;  when  there  should 
be  no  longer  room  to  fear  that  it  should  cause  any 
disturbance  in  civil  societies  and  the  governments 
of  the  world.  But  he  could  not  declare  liimself  to 
be  the  Messiah,  without  manifest  danger  of  tumult 
and  sedition  :  and  the  miracles  he  did  declared  it 
so  much,  that  he  was  fain  often  to  hide  himself, 
and  withdraw  from  the  concourse  of  the  people. 
The  leper  that  he  cured,  Mark  i.,  though  forbid  to 
say  any  thing,  yet  "  blazed  it  so  abroad,  that  Jesus 
could  no  more  openly  enter  into  the  city,  but  was 
without  in  desert  places,"  being  in  retirement,  as 
appears  from  Luke  v.,  and  there  "  they  came  to 
him  from  every  quarter."  And  thus  he  did  more 
than  once. 

G8.  This  being  premised,  let  us  take  a  view  of 
the  promulgation  of  the  gospel  by  our  Saviour  him- 
self, and  see  what  it  was  he  taught  the  world,  and 
required  men  to  believe.  The  first  beginning  of 
his  ministry,  whereby  he  showed  himself,  seems  to 
be  at  Cana  in  Galilee,  soon  after  his  baptism, 
wliere  he  turned  water  into  wine  ;  of  which  St. 
John  says  thus  :  "  This  beginning  of  miracles  Jesus 
made,  and  manifested  his  glory,  and  his  disciples 
l)elieved  in  him."  His  disciples  here  believed  in 
him  ;  but  we  hear  not  of  any  other  preaching  to 
them,  but  by  this  miracle,  whereby  he  manifested 
his  glory  ;  that  is,  of  being  the  Messiah,  the  prince. 
So  Nathanacl,  without  any  other  preaching,  but 
only  our  Saviour's  discovering  to  him  that  he  knew 
Iiini  after  an  extraordinary  manner,  presently  ac- 
knowledges him  to  be  the  Messiah  ;  crying,  "  Rab- 
bi, thou  art  the  Son  of  God  ;  thou  art  the  King  of 
Israel."  From  hence,  staying  a  few  days  at  Ca- 
pernaum, he  goes  to  Jerusalem  to  the  passover ; 
.15  (17) 


and  there  he  drives  the  traders  out  of  the  temple, 
saying,  "  Make  not  my  Father's  liouse  a  house  of 
merchandize."  Where  we  see  he  uses  a  phrase 
which,  by  interpretation,  signifies  tiiat  he  was  the 
Son  of  God,  though  at  that  time  unregarded. 
Hereupon  the  Jews  demand,  "  What  sign  dost  thou 
show  us,  since  thou  doest  these  tilings  ?  Jesus 
answered.  Destroy  ye  this  temple,  and  in  three 
days  I  will  raise  it  again."  This  is  an  instance  of 
what  way  Jesus  took  to  declare  himself;  for  it  is 
plain  by  their  reply  the  Jews  understood  him  not, 
nor  his  disciples  neither  ;  for  it  is  said,  "  When, 
therefore,  he  was  risen  from  the  dead,  his  disciples 
remembered  that  he  said  tliis  to  them  :  and  they 
believed  the  Scripture,  and  the  saying  of  Jesus  to 
them." 

69.  This  therefore  we  may  look  on,  in  the  be- 
ginning, as  a  pattern  of  Christ's  preaching,  and 
showing  himself  to  the  Jews  ;  which  he  generally 
followed  afterwards  ;  viz.  such  a  manifestation  of 
himself,  as  every  one  at  present  could  not  under- 
stand ;  but  yet  carried  such  an  evidence  with  it  to 
those  who  were  well  disposed  now,  or  would  re- 
flect on  it  when  the  whole  course  of  his  ministry 
was  over,  as  was  sufiicient  clearly  to  convince 
them  that  he  was  the  Messiah.  The  reason  of 
this  method  used  by  our  Saviour,  the  Scripture 
gives  us  here,  at  this  his  first  appearing  in  public, 
after  his  entrance  upon  his  mini.'^try,  to  be  a  rule 
and  light  to  us  in  the  whole  course  of  it :  for  the 
next  verse  takes  notice  that  many  believed  on  him 
"  because  of  his  miracles,"  (which  was  all  the 
preaching  they  had.)  It  is  said,  "  But  Jesus  did 
not  commit  himself  unto  them,  because  he  knew 
all  men  ;"*  that  is,  he  declared  not  himself  so 
openly  to  be  the  Messiah,  their  king,  as  to  put 
himself  in  the  power  of  the  Jews,  by  laying  him- 
self open  to  their  malice,  who  he  knew  would  be 
so  ready  to  lay  hold  on  it  to  accuse  him  ;  for,  as 
the  next  verse  shows,  he  knew  well  enough  what 
was  in  them.  We  may  here  further  observe, 
that  "  believing  in  his  name,"  signifies  beheving 
him  to  be  the  Messiah.  Verse  22  tells  us,  that 
"many  at  the  j)assover  believed  in  his  name, 
when  they  saw  the  miracles  that  he  did  ?"  What 
other  faith  could  these  miracles  produce  in  them 
who  saw  them,  but  that  this  was  he  of  whom 
the  Scripture  spoke,  who  was  to  be  their  de- 
liverer ! 

70.  Whilst  he  was  now  at  Jerusalem,  Nicode- 
mus,  a  ruler  of  the  Jews,  comes  to  him,  to  whom 
he  preaches  eternal  life  by  faith  in  the  Messiah, 
but  in  general  terms,  without  naming  himself  to 
be  that  Messiah,  though  his  whole  discourse  tends 
to  it.  This  is  all  we  hear  of  our  Saviour  the  first 
year  of  his  ministry,  but  only  his  baptism,  fasting, 
and  temptation  in  the  beginning  of  it,  and  spend- 
ing the  rest  of  it,  after  the  passover  in  Judea,  with 
his  disciples,  baptizing  there.  But  "  when  he 
knew  that  the  Pharisees  reported  tliat  he  had  made 
and  baptized  more  disciples  than  John,  he  left 
Judca,  and  got  out  of  their  way  again  into  Gahlee. 
In  his  way  back,  by  the  well  of  Sicliar,  he  dis- 
courses with  the  Samaritan  woman  ;  and  after 
havino-  opened  to  her  the  true  and  spiritual  wor- 
ship \vhich  was  at  hand,  which  the  woman  pre- 
sentlv  understands  of  the  times  of  tlie  Messiah, 


John  ii. 


30 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


who  was  then  looked  for  ;  thus  she  answers  :  "  I 
know  that  the  Messiah  conieth  :  when  he  is  come, 
he  will  tell  us  all  things."  Whereupon  our  Savi- 
our, though  we  liear  no  such  thing  from  liim  in 
Jerusalem  or  Judea,  or  to  Nicodemus  ;  yet  here,  to 
this  Samaritan  woman,  lie  in  plain  and  direct  words 
owns  and  declares,  that  he  himself,  who  talked 
with  her,  was  the  Messiah.  This  would  seem  very 
strange,  that  he  should  be  more  free  and  open  to  a 
Samaritan  than  he  was  to  the  Jews,  were  not  the 
reason  plain  from  what  we  have  observed  above. 
He  was  now  out  of  Judea,  with  a  people  witli 
whom  the  Jews  had  no  commerce ;  who  were  not 
disposed,  out  of  envy,  as  the  Jews  were,  to  seek 
his  life,  or  to  accuse  liim  to  the  Roman  governor, 
or  to  make  an  insurrection  to  set  a  Jew  up  for 
their  king.  What  the  consequence  was  of  his  dis- 
course with  this  Samaritan  woman  we  have  an  ac- 
count :  "  she  left  her  water-pot,  and  went  her  way 
into  the  city,  and  saith  to  the  men.  Come,  see  a 
man  who  told  me  all  things  that  ever  I  did  :  is  not 
this  the  Messiah  1  And  many  of  the  Samaritans 
of  that  city  beheved  on  him  for  the  saying  of  the 
woman,  which  testified.  He  told  me  all  that  ever  I 
did."  So  when  the  Samaritans  were  come  unto 
him^  they  besought  iiim  that  he  would  tarry  with 
them  :  and  he  abode  there  two  days.  And  many 
more  beheved  because  of  his  own  word  ;  and  said 
unto  the  woman.  Now  we  beUeve  not  because  of 
thy  saying ;  for  we  liave  heard  him  ourselves  ; 
and  we  know  (that  is,  are  fully  persuaded)  that  it 
is  indeed  the  Messiah,  the  Saviour  of  the  world." 
By  comparing  John  iv.  verse  39,  with  41  and  42, 
it  is  plain,  that  "  believing  on  him,"  signifies  no 
more  than  beheving  him  to  be  the  Messiah. 

71.  From  Sichar  Jesus  goes  to  Nazareth,  the 
place  he  was  bred  up  in,  and  there,  reading  in  tlie 
synagogue  a  prophecy  concerning  the  Messiah, 
out  of  the  sLxty-first  of  Isaiah,  he  tells  them, 
"  This  day  is  the  Scripture  fulfilled  in  your  ears." 
But  being  in  danger  of  his  life  at  Nazareth,  he 
leaves  it  for  Capernaum;  and  then,  as  St.  Mat- 
thew informs  us,  "he  began  to  preach,  and  say, 
Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand." 
Or,  as  St.  Mark  has  it,  "  preaching  tlie  gospel  of 
the  kingdom  of  God,  and  saying,  The  time  is  ful- 
filled, and  the  kingdom  of  God  is  at  hand  ;  repent 
ye,  and  believe  in  the  gospel ;"  that  is,  believe  this 
good  news.  This  removing  to  Capernaum,  and 
seating  himself  there  in  the  borders  of  Zabulon 
and  Naphtali,  was,  as  St.  Matthew  observes,  that 
a  prophecy  of  Isaiah  might  be  fulfilled.  Thus  the 
actions  and  circumstances  of  his  life,  answered 
the  prophecies,  and  declared  him  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah. And  by  what  St.  Mark  says  in  this  place, 
it  is  manifest  that  the  gospel  which  he  preached, 
and  required  them  to  believe,  was  no  other  but 
the  good  tidings  of  the  coming  of  the  Messiah, 
and  of  his  kingdom,  the  time  being  now  fulfilled. 
In  his  way  to  Capernaum,  being  come  to  Cana,  a 
nobleman  of  Capernaum  came  to  him,  "  and  be- 
sought him  that  he  would  come  down  and  heal  his 
son,  for  he  was  at  tlie  point  of  death.  Then  said 
Jesus  unto  him,  Except  ye  see  signs  and  wonders, 
ye  will  not  believe."  Tlion  he  returning  home- 
wards, and  finding  that  his  son  began  to  "  mend 
at  the  same  hour  in  which  Jesus  said  unto  him. 
Thy  son  liveth  ;  he  Iiiraself  believed,  and  his  whole 
house."     Here  this  nobleman  is,  by  the  apostle, 


pronounced  to  be  a  believer.  And  what  does  he 
believe  ]  even  that  which  Jesus  complains,  "  they 
would  not  beUeve,  except  they  saw  signs  and 
wonders  ;  which  could  be  nothing  but  what  those 
of  Samaria,  in  the  same  chapter,  believed  ;  viz. 
that  he  was  the  Messiah  :  for  we  no  where  in  the 
gospel  hear  of  any  thing  else  that  had  been  pro- 
posed to  be  believed  by  them. 

72.  Having  done  miracles,  and  cured  all  tlieir 
sick  at  Capernaum,  he  says,  "Let  us  go  to  the 
adjoining  towns,  that  I  may  preach  there  also  ;  for 
therefore  came  I  forth."  Or,  as  St.  Luke  has  it, 
chap,  iv.,  he  tells  the  multitude,  who  would  have 
kept  him,  that  he  might  not  go  from  them :  "  I 
must  evangelize,"  or  tell  the  good  tidings  of  tlie 
"kingdom  of  God  to  other  cities  also,  for  there- 
fore am  I  sent."  And  St.  Matthew,  chap,  iv.,  tells 
us  how  he  executed  this  commission  he  was  sent 
on.  "  And  Jesus  went  about  all  Galilee,  teaching 
in  their  synagogues,  and  preaching  the  gospel  of 
the  kingdom,  and  curing  all  diseases."  This  then 
was  what  he  was  sent  to  preach  every  where,  viz. 

I  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah  ;  and 
I  by  the  miracles  and  good  he  did,  let  them  know 
who  was  the  Messiah. 

73.  Hence  he  goes  up  to  Jerusalem,  to  the  se- 
cond passover  since  the  beginning  of  his  ministry. 
And  here  discoursing  to  the  Jews,  who  sought  to 

j  kill  him,  upon  occasion  of  the  man  whom  he  had 
cured  carrying  his  bed  on  the  Sabbath-day,  and 

j  for  makmg  God  his  Father,  he  tells  tlicm,  that  he 
Vv-rought  these  things  by  the  power  of  God,  and 

I  that  he  shall  do  greater  things  ;  for  that  the  dead 

j  shall,  at  his  summons,  be  raised  ;  and  that  he,  by 
a  power  committed  to  him  from  his  Father,  shall 

j  judge  them  ;  and  that  he  is  sent  by  his  Father  ; 
and  that  whoever  shall  hear  his  word,  and  believe 
in  him  that  sent  him,  has  eternal  hfe.  This,  though 
a  clear  description  of  the  Messiah,  yet  we  may  ob- 
serve that  here,  to  the  angry  Jews,  who  sought  to 
kill  him,  he '  says  not  a  word  of  his  kingdom,  nor 
so  much  as  names  the  Messiah  ;  but  yet  that  he 
is  the  Son  of  God,  and  sent  from  God,  he  refers 
them  to  the  testimony  of  John  the  Baptist,  to  the 
testimony  of  his  own  miracles,  and  of  God  himself 
in  the  voice  from  heaven,  and  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  of  Moses.  He  leaves  them  to  learn  from 
these  the  truth  they  were  to  believe,  viz.  that  he 
was  the  Messiah  sent  from  God.  Tliis  you  may 
read  more  at  large,  Jolm  v. 

74.  The  next  place  where  we  find  him  preach- 
ing was  on  the  mount.  This  is  by  much  the  long- 
est sermon  we  have  of  his  any  wh.ere  :  and,  in  all 
likelihood,  to  the  greatest  auditory  :  for  it  appears 
to  have  been  to  the  people  gatlierod  to  him  from 
Galilee,  and  Judea,  and  Jerusalem,  and  from  be- 
yond Jordan;  and  that  came  out  of  Idumea,  and 
from  Tyre  and  Sidon,  mentioned  Mark  iii.  and 
Luke  vi.  But  in  this  whole  sermon  of  liis  we  do 
not  find  one  word  of  believing,  and  therefore  no 
mention  of  the  Messiah,  or  any  intimation  to  the 
people  who  himself  was  :  the  reason  whereof  we 
may  gather  from  Matt,  xii.,  where  "Christ  forbids 
them  to  make  him  known  ;"  which  supposes  them 
to  know  already  who  he  was.  For  that  this  twelfth 
chapter  of  Matthew  ought  to  precede  the  sermon 
in  the  mount  is  plain,  by  comnaring  it  with  Mark 
ii.,  beginning  at  verse  13,  to  Mark  iii.  8,  and  com- 
paring  those  chapters  of  St.  Mark  with  lAike  vi 


THE    REASONABLENESS  OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


31 


And  I  desire  my  reader,  once  for  all,  here  to  take 
notice,  that  I  have  all  along  observed  the  order  of 
time  in  our  Saviour's  preaching,  and  have  not,  as 
I  tliLnk,  passed  by  any  of  his  discourses.  In  this 
sermon  our  Saviour  only  teaches  them  what  were 
the  laws  of  his  kingdom,  and  what  they  must  do 
who  were  admitted  into  it;  of  which  I  shall  have 
occasion  to  speak  more  at  large  in  another  place, 
being  at  present  only  enquiruig  what  our  Saviour 
proposed  as  matter  of  faith  to  be  believed. 

75.  After  this,  John  the  Baptist  sends  to  him 
this  message,  asking, — "  Art  thou  he  that  should 
come,  or  do  we  expect  another!"  That  is,  in  short, 
art  thou  the  Messiah]  And  if  thou  art,  why  dost 
thou  let  me,  thy  forerunner,  languish  m  prison? — 
Must  I  expect  dehverance  from  any  other  ?  To 
which  Jesus  returns  this  answer :  "  Tell  John  what 
you  have  seen  and  heard : — the  blind  sec,  the 
lame  walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed,  the  deaf  hear, 
the  dead  are  raised,  to  the  poor  the  gospel  is 
preached  ;  and  blessed  is  he  who  is  not  offended 
in  me."  What  it  is  to  be  "  offended"  or  "  scandal- 
ized in  him  we  may  see  by  compaiing  Matt.  xiii. 
28,  and  Mark  iv.  17,  with  Luke  viii.  13  ;  for  what 
the  two  first  call  scandalized,  the  last  calls  stand- 
ing off  from,  or  forsaking ;  that  is,  not  receiving 
him  as  the  Messiah,  (vide  Mark  vi.  1 — 0,)  or  re- 
volting from  him.  Here  Jesus  refers  John,  as  he 
did  the  Jews  before,  to  the  testimony  of  his  mira- 
cles, to  know  who  he  was  ;  and  this  was  generally 
his  preaching,  whereby  he  declared  himself  to  be 
the  Messiah  ;  who  was  the  only  prophet  to  come, 
whom  the  Jews  had  any  expectation  of;  nor  did 
they  look  for  any  other  person  to  be  sent  to  them 
with  the  power  of  miracles,  but  only  the  Messiah. 
His  miracles,  we  see  by  liis  answer  to  John  the 
Baptist,  he  thought  a  sutRcient  declaration  among 
them  that  he  was  the  Messiah.  And  therefore, 
upon  his  curing  the  possessed  of  the  devil,  the 
dumb,  and  blind,  IMatt.  xii.,  the  people  wh'a  saw 
the  miracle  said,  "Is  not  this  the  Son  of  David]" 
as  much  as  to  say.  Is  not  this  the  Messiah] — 
Whereat  the  Pharisees  bemg  offended,  said,  he 
cast  out  devils  by  Beelzebub.  Jesus  siiowing  the 
falsehood  and  vanity  of  their  blasphemy,  justifies 
the  conclusion  the  people  made  from  tliis  miracle, 
saying,  that  his  casting  out  devils  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  was  an  evidence  that  the  kingdom  of  the 
Messiah  was  come. 

76.  One  thing  more  there  was  in  the  miracles 
done  by  his  disciples,  which  showed  him  to  be  the 
Messiah — that  they  were  done  in  his  name.  "  In 
the  name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  rise  up  and  walk," 
says  St.  Peter  to  the  lame  man  whom  he  cured 
in  the  temple,  Acts  iii.  And  how  far  the  power 
of  that  name  reached,  they  themselves  seem  to 
wonder,  Luke  x. ;  "  And  the  seventy  returned 
again  with  joy,  saying.  Lord,  even  the  devils  are 
subject  to  us  in  thy  name."  From  this  message 
from  John  the  Baptist,  he  takes  occasion  to  tell 
the  people,  that  John  was  the  forerunner  of  the 
Messiah  ;  that  from  the  time  of  John  the  Baptist 
the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah  began ;  to  which  time 
all  the  prophets  and  the  law  pointed.*  "  After- 
wards he  went  through  every  city  and  village, 
preaching  and  showing  the  good  tidings  of  the 
kingdom  of  God."   Here  we  see,  as  every  where, 


Luke  vii. ;  Matt.xi. 


what  his  preaching  was,  and  consequently  what 
was  to  be  believed. 

77.  Soon  after,  he  preaches  from  a  boat  to  the 
people  on  the  shore.  His  sermon  at  large  we 
may  read,  Matt.  xiii.  Mark  iv.  and  Luke  viil  But 
this  IS  very  observable,  that  this  second  sermon 
of  his  here,  is  quite  diiTereat  from  his  former  in 
the  mount :  for  that  was  all  so  plain  and  intelligi- 
ble that  nothing  could  be  more  so  ;  whereas  this 
is  all  so  involved  m  parables,  that  even  the  apos- 
tles themselves  did  not  understand  it.  If  we  in- 
quire mto  the  reason  of  tliis,  we  shall  possibly 
have  some  hght  from  the  different  subjects  of 
these  two  sermons.  There  he  preached  to  the 
people  only  morality ;  clearing  the  precepts  of  the 
law  from  the  false  glosses  which  were  received  in 
those  days,  and  setting  forth  tiie  duties  of  a  good 
life  in  their  full  obligation  and  extent,*  beyond 
what  the  judiciary  laws  of  the  Israelites  did,  or 
the  civil  laws  of  any  country  could  prescribe  or 
take  notice  of.  But  here,  in  this  sermon  by  the 
seaside,  he  speaks  of  nothing  but  the  kingdom  o. 
the  Messiah,  which  he  docs  all  in  parables.  One 
reason  whereof  St.  Matthew  gives  us,  chap.  xiii. 
"  That  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by 
the  prophet,  saying,  I  will  open  my  mouth  ia 
parables  ;  I  wiU  utter  things  that  have  been  kept 
secret  from  the  foundation  of  the  world."  Ano- 
tlier  reason  our  Saviour  himself  gives  of  it :  "Be- 
cause to  you  it  is  given  to  know  the  mysteries  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but  to  them  it  is  not 
given.  For  whosoever  hath,  to  him  shall  be  given, 
and  he  shall  have  more  abundantly  ;  but  whoso- 
ever hath  not,"  that  is,  improves  not  the  talents 
that  he  hath,  "  from  him  shsdl  be  taken  away  even 
that  he  hath." 

78.  One  thing  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  observe, 
that  our  Saviour  here,  in  the  explication  of  the 
first  of  these  parables  to  his  apostles,  calls  the 
preaching  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah,  simply, 
"  the  Word ;"  and,  Luke  viii.  21,  "  the  Word  of 
God:"  from  whence  St.  Luke,  in  the  Acts,  often 
mentions  it  under  the  name  of  "  the  Word,"  and 


*  Every  thing  necessary  to  make  a  man  a  Chris- 
tian is  clearly  delivered  in  the  New  Testamenl.— 
This  Locke  frequently  insists  on, and  in  this  all  wise 
and  moderate  men  agree.  Milton,  in  Scripture 
more  deeply  read  than  Locke,  or,  perhaps,  than  any- 
other  writer  with  whom  I  am  acquainted,  observes 
on  this  subject—"  It  is  true,  liiere  be  some  books, 
and  especially  some  places  in  those  books,  that  re- 
main clouded ;  yet  ever  that  which  is  most  necessary 
to  be  known  is  most  easy;  and  that  which  is  most 
difficult,  so  far  expounds  itself  ever,  as  to  tell  us 
how  little  it  imports  our  saving  knowledge.  Hence, 
to  infer  a  general  obscurity  over  all  the  texts,  is  a 
mere  suggestion  of  the  devil  to  dissuade  men  from 
reading  ft)  and  casts  an  aspersion  of  dishonor  both 
upon  the  mercy,  truth,  and  wisdom  of  God.  "We 
count  it  no  gentleness  or  fair  dealing  in  a  man  of 
power  amongst  us,  to  require  strict  and  punctual 
obedience,  and  yet  give  out  all  his  commands  ambi- 
guous and  obscure,  we  should  think  he  had  a  plot 
upon  us;  certainlv  such  commands  were  no  com- 
mands, but  snares.  The  very  essence  of  truth  is 
plainness  and  brightness,  the  darkness  and  crooked- 
ness is  our  own.  The  wisdom  of  God  created  un- 
derstanding, fit  and  proportionable  to  truth,  the  ob- 
ject  and  end  of  it,  as  the  eye  o  the  thing  visible.'  -  . 
Ed. 


32 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY, 


"  the  Word  of  God,"  as  we  have  elsewhere  ob- 
served ;  to  wliich  I  shall  liere  add  that  of  Acts 
viii.  4: — "Therefore  tJiey  that  were  scattered 
abroad,  went  every  where  preachmg  the  Word  ;" 
which  word,  as  we  have  found  by  examining  what 
tliey  preached  all  through  their  history,  was  no- 
thing but  this,  that  "  Jesus  was  the  Messiah  :"  I 
mean,  this  was  all  the  doctrine  they  proposed  to 
be  beheved  :  for  what  they  taught,  "as  well  as  our 
Saviour,  contained  a  great  deal  more ;  but  that 
concerned  practice,  and  not  belief.  And  there- 
fore our  Saviour  says,  in  the  place  before  quoted, 
Luke  vhi.  21, — "  They  are  my  mother  and  my 
brethren  who  hear  the  word  of  God,  and  do  it :" 
obeying  the  law  of  the  Messiah,  their  king,  being 
no  less  required  than  their  believing  that  Jesus 
was  the  Messiah,  tlie  king  and  deliverer  that  was 
promised  them.  Matt.  ix.  wo  have  an  account 
again  of  his  preaching;  what  it  was  and  how  : — 
"And  Jesus  went  about  all  the  cities  and  villages, 
teaching  in  their  synagogues,  and  preaching  the 
gospel  of  the  kingdom,  and  healing  every  sickness 
and  every  disease  amongst  the  people."  He  ac- 
quainted them  that  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah 
was  come,  and  left  it  to  his  miracles  to  instruct 
and  convince  them  that  he  was  the  Messiah. 

79.  When  he  sent  his  apostles  abroad,  their 
commission  to  preach  we  have  in  tiiese  words  : — 
"  As  ye  go,  preach,  saying,  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
is  at  hand :  heal  the  sick,"  &,c.  All  that  they 
had  to  preach  was  that  the  kingdom  of  the  Mes- 
siah was  come.  Whosoever  should  not  receive 
them,  the  messengers  of  this  good  tidings,  nor 
hearken  to  their  message,  incurred  a  heavier  doom 
than  Sodom  and  Goii\orrah  at  the  day  of  judg- 
ment. But,  "  Whosoever  shall  confess  me  before 
men,  I  will  confess  him  before  my  Father  who  is 
in  heaven."  What  this  confessing  of  Christ  is, 
we  may  see  by  comparing  John  xii.  4,  with  Lx.  22 : 
"  Nevertheless,  among  the  chief  rulers  also  many 
believed  on  him ;  but  because  of  the  Pharisees 
*hey  did  not  confess  him,  lest  they  should  be  put 
out  of  the  synagogue."  And  "these  words  spake 
his  parents,  because  they  feared  the  Jews :  for 
the  Jews  had  agreed  already,  that  if  any  man  did 
confess  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  he  should  be 
put  out  of  the  synagogue."  By  which  places  it  is 
evident,  that  to  confess  him,  was  to  confess  that 
he  was  the  Messiah.  From  which  give  me  leave 
to  observe  also,  (what  I  have  cleared  from  other 
places,  but  cannot  be  too  often  remarked,  because 
of  the  different  sense  which  has  been  put  upon  that 
phrase,)  viz.  that  believing  on  or  in  him  (for  en 
avTov  is  rendered  either  way  by  the  English  trans- 
lation) signifies  believing  that  he  was  the  Mes- 
siah. For  many  of  the  rulers  (the  text  says)  be- 
lieved on  him ;  but  they  durst  not  confess  what 
they  believed,  "  for  fear  they  should  be  put  out  of 
the  synagogue."  Now  the  offence  for  wliich  it 
was  agreed  that  any  one  should  be  put  out  of  the 
synagogue  was,  if  he  "  did  confess  that  Jesus  was 
the  Messiah."  Hence  we  may  have  a  clear  un- 
derstanding of  that  passage  of  St.  Paul  to  the 
Romans,*  where  he  tells  them  positively  what  is 
the  faith  he  preaches :  "  That  is  the  word  of  faith 
which  we  preach,  that  if  thou  shalt  confess  with 
thy  mouth  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  believe  in  thine 


♦  Rom.  X.  8, 9. 


heart  that  God  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead, 
thou  shalt  be  saved :"  and  that  also  of  1  John  iv. 
14,  15 :  "  We  have  seen,  and  do  testify,  that  the 
Father  sent  the  Son  to  be  the  Saviour  of  the 
world  :  whosoever  shall  confess  that  Jesus  is  the 
Son  of  God,  God  dwelleth  in  him,  and  he  in  God." 
Where  confessing  Jesus  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  is 
the  same  with  confessing  him  to  be  the  Messiah ; 
tiiose  two  expressions  being  understood,  amongst 
the  Jews,  to  signify  the  same  thing,  as  we  have 
shown  already.  How  calling  him  the  Son  of  God 
came  to  signify  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  would 
not  be  hard  to  show  ;  but  it  is  enough  that  it  ap- 
pears plainly  that  it  was  soused,  and  had  that  im- 
port amongst  the  Jews  at  that  time  ;  which  if  any 
one  desires  to  have  further  evidenced  to  him,  he 
may  add  Matt.  xxvi.  63,  John  vi.  69,  and  xi.  27, 
and  XX.  31,  to  those  places  before  occasionally 
taken  notice  of. 

80.  As  was  the  apostles'  commission,  such  was 
their  performance,  as  we  read  Luke  ix.  6  :  "They 
departed,  and  went  through  the  towns,  preaching 
the  gospel,  and  healing  every  where."  Jesus  bid 
them  preacl),  saying,  "The  kingdom  of  heaven  is 
at  hand."  And  St.  Luke  tells  us,  they  went 
through  the  towns,  preaching  the  gospel ;  a  word 
which  in  Saxon  answers  well  the  Greek  'EvayytXiov, 
and  signifies,  as  that  does,  "good  news."  So 
that  what  the  inspired  writers  call  the  gospel,  is 
nothing  but  the  good  tidings  that  the  Messiah  and 
his  kingdom  was  come  ;  and  so  it  is  to  be  under- 
stood in  the  New  Testament ;  and  so  the  angel 
calls  it  "good  tidings  of  great  joy,"  bringing  the 
first  news  of  our  Saviour's  birth.  And  this  seems 
to  be  all  that  his  disciples  were  at  that  time  sent 
to  preach.  So  Luke  ix.  59,  60.  To  him  that 
would  have  excused  his  present  attendance,  be- 
cause of  burying  his  father,  "  Jesus  said  unto  him, 
let  the  dead  bury  their  dead,  but  go  thou  and 
preach  the  kingdom  of  God."  When  I  say  this 
was  all  they  were  to  preach,  I  must  be  under- 
stood, that  this  was  the  faith  they  preached  ;  but 
with  it  they  joined  obedience  to  the  Messiah, 
whom  they  received  for  their  king.  So  likewise 
when  he  sent  out  the  seventy,  Luke  x.  their  com- 
mission was  in  these  words :  "  Heal  the  sick,  and 
say  unto  them,  the  Idngdom  of  God  is  come  nigh 
unto  you." 

81.  After  the  return  of  his  apostles  to  him,  he 
sits  down  with  them  on  a  mountain  ;  and  a  great 
multitude  being  gathered  about  them,  St.  Luke 
tells  us,  "  The  people  followed  him,  and  he  receiv- 
ed them,  and  spake  unto  them  of  the  kingdom  of 
God  ;  and  healed  them  that  had  need  of  healing." 
This  was  his  preaching  to  this  assembly,  M'hich 
consisted  of  five  thousand  men,  besides  women 
and  children ;  all  which  great  multitude  he  fed 
with  five  loaves  and  two  fishes.  And  what  this 
miracle  wrought  upon  them  St.  John  tells  us, — 
chap.  vi. :  "Then  these  men,  when  they  had  seen 
the  miracle  that  Jesus  did,  said,  This  is  of  a  truth 
that  prophet  that  should  come  into  the  world ;" 
that  is,  the  Messiah  :  for  the  Messiah  was  the 
only  person  that  they  expected  from  God,  and  this 
the  time  they  looked  for  him.  And  hence  John 
the  Baptist,  Matt.  xi.  3,  styles  him, — "  He  that 
should  come ;"  as  in  other  places,  "  come  from 
God,"  or  "  sent  from  God,"  are  phrases  used  for 
the  Messiah.    Here  we  see  our  Saviour  keeps  to 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


his  usual  method  of  preaching  :  he  speaks  to  them 
off  the  king-dom  of  God,  and  does  miracles,  by 
which  they  might  understand  him  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah, whose  kingdom  he  spake  of.  And  here  we 
have  the  reason  also,  why  he  so  much  concealed 
himselt;  and  forbore  to  own  his  being  the  Messiah. 
For  what  the  consequence  was  of  the  multitudes' 
but  thinking  him  so,  when  they  were  got  together, 
St.  John  tells  us  in  the  very  next  words :  'Avhen 
Jesus  then  perceived  that  they  would  come  and 
take  him  by  force  to  make  him  a  king,  he  departed 
agam  into  a  mountain,  himself  alone."  If  they 
were  so  ready  to  set  him  up  for  their  king,  only 
because  they  gathered  from  his  miracles  that  he 
was  the  Messiah,  whilst  he  himself  said  nothing 
of  It,  what  would  not  the  people  have  done,  and 
what  would  not  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  have 
had  an  opportunity  to  accuse  him  of,  if  he  had 
openly  professed  himself  to  have  been  the  Mes- 
siah, that  kmg  they  looked  for?  But  this  we  have 
taken  notice  of  already.    "" 

82.  From  thence,  going  to  Capernaum,  whither 
he  was  followed  by  a  great  part  of  the  people, 
whom  he  had  the  day  before  so  miraculously  fed, 
he,  upon  the  occasion  of  their  following  him  for 
the  loaves,  bid  them  seek  for  the  meat  that  en- 
dureth  to  eternal  life  :  and  thereupon  declares  to 
them  his  bemg  sent  from  the  Father,  and  that 
those  who  believed  in  him  should  be  raised  to 
eternal  life;  but  all  this  very  much  involved  in  a 
mixture   of   allegorical  terms  of  eating,  and  of 
bread ;    bread   of  life,   which    came   down   from 
heaven,  &,c.  which  is  all  comprehended   and  ex- 
pounded in  these  short  and  plain  words  :  "  Verily, 
verily  1  say  unto  you,  he  that  believeth  on  me, 
hath  everlasting  life,  and  I  will  raise  him  up  at 
the  last  day."     The  sum  of  all  which  discourse  is, 
that  he  was  the  Messiah  sent  from  God;  and 
that  those  who  believed  him  to  be  so  should  be 
raised  from  the  dead,  at  the  last  day,  to  eternal 
life.     These  whom  he  spoke  to,  were  of  those 
\vho  the  day  before  would  by  force  have  made 
him  king ;  and  therefore  it  is  no  wonder  he  should 
speak  to  them  of  himself  and  his  kmgdom  and 
subjects,  in  obscure  and  mystical  terms,  and  such 
as  should  offend  those  who  looked  for  nothing  but 
the  grandeur  of  a  temporal  kingdom  in  this  \vorld, 
and  the  protection  and  prosperity  they  had  pro- 
mised themselves  under  it.     The  hopes  of  such  a 
kingdom,  now  that  they  had  found  a  man  that  did 
miracles,  and  therefore  concluded  to  be  the  deli- 
verer they  expected,  had  the  day  before  almost 
drawn  them  into  an  open  insurrection,  and  in- 
volved our  Saviour  in  it!     This  he  thought  fit  to 
put  a  stop  to,  they  still  following  him,  it  is  like, 
with  the  same  design  ;  and  therefore,  though  he 
here  speaks  to  them  of  his  kingdom,  it  was  in  a 
way  that  so  plainly  balked  their  expectation,  and 
shocked  them,  that  when  they  found  themselves 
disappointed  of  those  vain  hopes  ;  and  that  he 
talked  of  their  eating  his  flesh,  and  drinking  his 
blood,  that  they  might  have  hfe ;  the  Jews  sjud, — 
"  How  can  this  man  give  us  his  flesh  to  eat  1  And 
many,  even  of  his  disciples,  said,  it  was  an  hard 
saying,who  can  bear  it  T"  and  so  were  scandalized 
in  him,  and   forsook  him.      But  what   the  true 
meaning  of  this  discourse  of  our  Saviour  was,  the 
confession  of  St.  Peter,  who  understood  it  better, 
and  answered  for  the  rest  of  the  apostles,  shows  : 


33 


when  Jesus  asked  him,  «  Will  ye  also  go  away  ^_ 
Then  Simon  Peter  answered  him,  ].ord,  to  ^vhom 
shaO^we  go]     Thou  hast  the  words  'of  eteruS 

itlin.l  rf  ""'  ^^T  ^'^^'^'"'^"^  "^  ♦''«  ^^^y  to  attain 
eternal  hfe;  and,  accordingly,  "we  believe,  and 
are  sure  that  thou  art  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  the 
living  God.  This  was  the  eating  his  flesh,  and 
drinking  his  blood,  whereby  those  who  did  so  had 
eternal  life. 

83.  Some  time  after  this,  he  inquires  of  his  dis- 
ciples,  whom  the  people  took  him  for.     They  tell- 
mg  him,  for  John  the  Baptist,  or  one  of  the  old 
prophets  risen  from  the  dead  ;  he  asked,  what  thev 
theuTselves  thought.     And  here  again  Peter  an- 
swers m  these  words,  Mark  viii.  ^d  :  «  Thou  art 
tlie  aiessiah,"    Luke  ix.  20;    "The  Messiah  of 
God  ;     and  Matt.  xvi.  16,    «  Thou  art  the  Mes- 
siah,  the  Son  of  the  living  God  ;"  which  expres- 
sions,  we  may  hence  gather,  amount  to  the  same 
thing.     Whereupon  our  Saviour  tells  Peter,  Matt, 
xvi.,  « that  this  was  such  a  truth  as  flesh  and  blood 
could  not  reveal  to  him,  but  only  his  Father  who 
was  in  heaven  ;"  and  that  this  was  the  foundation 
on  which  he  was  to  build  his  church.     By  all  the 
parts  of  which  passage  it  is  more  than  probable, 
that  he  had  never  yet  told  his  apostles  in  direct 
words  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  but  that  they  had 
gathered  it  from  his  life  and  miracles  :   for  which 
we  may  imagine  to  ourselves  this  probable  reason  ; 
because,  that  if  he  had  familiarly,  and  in  direct 
terms,  talked  to  his  apostles  in  private  that  he  was 
the  Messiah,  the   prmce,  of  whose  kingdom  he 
preached  so  much  in  public  every  where,  Judas, 
whom  he  knew  false  and  treacherous,  would  have 
been  readily  made  use  of  to  testify  against  him  in 
a  matter  that  would  have  been  really  criminal,  to 
the  Roman  governor.     This,  perhaps,  mav  help 
to  clear  to  us  that  seemingly  abrupt  reply  of  our 
Saviour  to  his  apostles,  John  vi.  70,  when  they 
confessed  him  to  be  the  Messiah.     I  will,  for  the 
better  explaining  of  it,  set  down  the  passage  at 
large.     Peter  having  said,  "  We  believe,  and  are 
sure  that  thou  art  tlie  Messiah,  the  Son  of  ilie  liv- 
ing  God  ;  Jesus  answered  them.  Have  not  I  chosen 
you  twelve,  and  one  of  you  is  (5<aSoXoj !"     This  is 
a  reply  seeming,  at  first  eight,  nothing  to  the  pur- 
pose ;  when  yet  it  is  sure  all  our  Saviour's  dis- 
courses were  wise  and  pertinent.    It  seems,  there- 
fore, to  me  to  carry  this  sense,  to  be  understood 
afterwards  by  the  eleven,  (as  that  of  destroying 
the  temple,  and  raising  it  again  in  three  days  was,) 
when  they  should  reflect  on  it  after  his  bemg  be- 
trayed by  Judas  : — You  have  confessed,  and  be- 
lieve the  truth  concerning  me  :  I  am  the  Messiah, 
your  king :  but  do  not  wonder  at  it,  that  I  have 
never  openly  declared  it  to  you  ;  for  amongst  you 
twelve,  whom  I  have  chosen  to  be  with  me,  there 
is  one  who  is  an  informer,  or  false  accuser,  (for  so 
the  Greek  n'ord  signifies,  and  may  possibly  here 
be  so  translated,  rather  than  devil,)  who,  if  1  Jiad 
owned  myself  in  plain  words  to  have  been  the 
Messiah,  the  kin-  of  Israel,  would  have  betrayed 
me,  and  informed  against  me. 

84.  Tliat  he  was  yet  cautious  of  owning  himself 
to  his  apostles  positively  to  be  the  Messiah,  ap- 
pears further  from  the  manner  wherein  he  tells 
Peter,  that  he  will  build  his  church  upon  that  con- 
fession of  his,  that  he  was  tJie  Messiah.  I  say 
unto  thee,  "  Thou  art  Cephas,"  or  a  rock  ;  "  and 


34 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


upon  this  rock  I  will  build  my  church,  and  the 
gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it."  Words 
too  doubtful  to  be  laid  hold  on  against  him,  as  a 
testimony  that  he  professed  himself  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah, especially  if  we  join  with  them  the  following 
words:  "And  I  will  give  theo  the  keys  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  what  thou  shalt  bind  on 
earth,  shall  be  bound  in  heaven  ;  and  what  thou 
shalt  loose  on  earth,  sliall  be  loosed  in  heaven." 
Which,  being  said  personally  to  Peter,  rendered 
the  tbregoJng  words  of  our  Saviour  (wherein  he 
declares  the  fundamental  article  of  his  church  to 
be  the  believing  him  to  be  the  Messiah)  the  more 
obscure  and  doubtful,  and  less  liable  to  be  made 
use  of  against  him  ;  but  yet  such  as  might  after- 
wards be  understood.  And  for  the  same  reason 
he  yet  here  again  forbids  the  apostles  to  say  that 
he  was  the  Messiah. 

85.  The  probability  of  this,  viz.,  that  he  had  not 
yet  told  the  apostles  themselves  plainly  that  he 
was  the  Messiah,  is  confirmed  by  what  our  Sa- 
viour says  to  them,  John  xv. :  "  Henceforth  I  call 
you  not  servants,  for  the  servant  knoweth  not  what 
his  Lord  doeth  ;  but  I  have  called  you  friends  ;" 
viz.  in  the  foregoing  verso  ;  "  for  all  things  that  I 
have  heard  of  my  Father,  I  have  made  known 
unto  you."  This  was  in  his  last  discourse  with 
them  after  Judas  was  gone  out ;  wherein  he  com- 
mitted to  them  the  great  secret,  by  speaking  of 
the  kingdom  as  his,  as  appears  from  Luke  xxii.  30, 
and  telling  them  several  other  particulars  about  it, 
whence  he  had  it,  what  kingdom  it  was,  how  to 
be  administered,  and  what  share  they  were  to 
have  in  it,  &c.  From  whence  it  is  plain,  that  till 
just  before  he  was  laid  hold  on,  the  very  moment 
he  was  parting  with  his  apostles,  he  had  kept  them 
as  servants  in  ignorance  ;  but  now  had  discovered 
himself  oi)enly  as  to  his  friends. 

86.  "  From  this  time,"  say  the  evangelists, 
"Jesus  began  to  show  to  his  disciples  (that  is,  his 
apostles,  who  are  often  called  disciples)  that  he 
must  go  to  Jerusalem,  and  suffer  many  things  from 
the  elders,  chief  priests,  and  Scribes  ;  and  be  kill- 
ed, and  be  raised  again  the  third  day."  These, 
though  all  marks  of  the  Messiah,  yet  how  little 
understood  by  the  apostles,  or  suited  to  their  ex- 
pectation of  the  Messiah,  appears  from  Peter's 
rebuking  him  for  it  in  the  words.  Matt.  xvi.  22. — 
Peter  had  twice  before  owned  him  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah, and  yet  he  cannot  here  bear  that  he  should 
sufier,  and  be  put  to  death,  and  be  raised  again  ; 
whereby  wo  may  perceive,  how  little  yet  Jesus 
had  explained  to  the  apostles  what  personally  con- 
cerned himself.  They  had  been  a  good  while 
witnesses  of  his  life  and  miracles,  and  thereby  be- 
ing grown  into  a  belief  that  he  was  the  Messiah, 
were  in  some  degree  prepared  to  receive  the  par- 
ticulars that  were  to  fill  up  the  character,  and  an- 
swer the  prophecies  concerning  him.  This,  from 
henceforth,  he  began  to  open  to  them,  (though  in 
a  way  which  the  Jews  could  not  form  an  accu- 
sation out  of,)  the  time  of  the  accomplishment  of 
all,  in  his  sufferings,  death,  and  resurrection,  now 
drawing  on  :  for  this  was  in  the  last  year  of  his 
life  ;  he  being  to  meet  the  Jews  at  Jerusalem  but 
once  more  at  the  passover,  and  then  they  should 
have  their  will  upon  him,  and  therefore  he  might 
now  begin  to  be  a  little  more  open  concerning 
himself;  though  yet  so  as  to  keep  himself  out  of 


the  reach  of  any  accusation  that  might  appear  just 
or  weighty  to  the  Roman  deputy.  ■» 

87.  After  his  reprimand  to  Peter,  telling  him 
that  he  "  savorod  not  the  things  of  God,  but  of 
man,"  Mark  viii.,  he  calls  the  people  to  him,  and 
prepares  those  who  would  be  his  disciples,  for 
suffering  ;  telling  them,  "  Whoever  shall  be 
ashamed  of  me  and  my  words,  in  this  adulterous 
and  sinful  generation,  of  him  also  shall  the  Son  of 
man  be  ashamed  when  he  cometli  in  the  glory  of 
his  Father,  with  the  holy  angels  :"  and  then  sub- 
joins two  great  and  solemn  acts,  wherein  he  should 
show  himself  to  be  the  Messiah,  the  kinir ;  "  for 
the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  the  glory  of  his  Fa- 
ther, with  his  angels  ;  and  then  he  shall  render 
every  man  according  to  his  works."  This  is  evi- 
dently meant  of  the  glorious  appearance  of  his 
kingdom,  when  he  shall  come  to  judge  the  world 
at  the  last  day  ;  described  more  at  large,  Matt. 
XXV.  "  When  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  his 
glory,  and  all  tlie  holy  angels  with  him,  then  shall 
he  sit  upon  the  throne  of  his  glory.  Then  shall 
the  King  say  to  them  on  his  right  hand,"  &c. 

88.  But  what  follows  in  the  place  above  quoted, 
Matt.  xvi.  28  :  "  Verily,  verily,  there  be  some 
standing  here  who  shall  not  taste  of  death,  till 
they  see  the  Son  of  man  coming  in  his  kingdom," 
— importing  that  dominion,  which  some  there 
should  see  him  exercise  over  the  nation  of  the 
Jews, — was  so  covered,  by  being  annexed  to  the 
preceding  verse,  27,  (where  he  spoke  of  the  mani- 
festation and  glory  of  his  kingdom  at  the  day  of 
judgment,)  that  though  liis  plain  meaning  here,  in 
verse  28,  be,  that  the  appearance  and  visible  exer- 
cise of  his  kingly  power  in  his  kingdom  was  so 
near,  that  some  there  should  live  to  see  it ;  yet  if 
the  foregoing  words  had  not  cast  a  shadow  over 
these  latter,  but  they  had  been  left  plainly  to  be 
understood,  as  they  plainly  signified,  that  he  should 
be  a  king,  and  that  it  was  so  near,  that  some  there 
should  see  him  in  his  kingdom,  this  might  have 
been  laid  hold  on,  and  made  the  matter  of  a  plau- 
sible and  seemingly  just  accusation  against  him 
by  the  Jews,  before  Pilate.  This  seems  to  be  the 
reason  of  our  Saviour's  inverting  here  the  order 
of  the  two  solemn  manifestations  to  the  world  of 
his  rule  and  power  ;  thereby  perplexing  at  present 
his  meaning,  and  securing  himself,  as  was  neces- 
sary, from  the  malice  of  the  Jews,  which  always 
lay  at  catch  to  entrap  him,  and  accuse  him  to  the 
Roman  governor ;  and  would,  no  doubt,  have  been 
ready  to  have  alleged  these  words,  "  Some  here 
shall  not  taste  of  death,  till  they  see  the  Son  of 
man  coming  in  his  kingdom,"  against  him  as 
criminal,  had  not  their  meaning  been,  by  the  for- 
mer verse,  perplexed,  and  the  sense  at  that  time 
rendered  unintelligible,  and  not  applicable  by  any 
of  his  auditors  to  a  sense  that  might  have  been 
prejudicial  to  him  before  Pontius  Pilate :  for  how 
well  the  chief  of  the  Jews  were  disposed  towards 
him  St.  Luke  tells  us,  chap.  xi.  :  "  Laying  wait 
for  him,  and  seeking  to  catcli  something  out  of  his 
mouth,  that  they  might  accuse  him  :"  which  may 
be  a  reason  to  satisiy  us  of  the  seemingly  doubtful 
and  obscure  way  of  speaking  used  by  our  Saviour 
in  other  places  ;  his  circumstances  being  such, 
that  without  such  a  prudent  carriage  and  reserved- 
ness,  he  could  not  have  gone  through  the  work 
which  he  came  to  do  ;  nor  have  performed  all  the 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY 


parts  of  it,  in  a  way  correspondent  to  the  descrip- 
tions given  of  the  Messiah,  and  which  would  be 
afterwards  fully  understood  to  belong  to  him, 
when  he  had  left  the  world. 

89.  After  this,  Matt,  xvii.,  he,  without  saying 
it  in  direct  words,  begins,  as  it  were,  to  own  him- 
self to  his  apostles  to  be  the  Messiah,  by  assuring 
them,  that  as  the  Scribes,  according  to  the  prophe- 
cy of  Malachi,*  rightly  said,  that  Elias  was  to 
usher  in  the  Messiah  ;  so  indeed  Elias  was  already 
come,  though  the  Jews  knew  him  not,  and  treated 
him  ill :  whereby  "  they  understood  that  he  spake 
to  them  of  John  the  Baptist."  And  a  httle  after, 
he  somewhat  more  plainly  intimates  that  he  is  the 
Messiah  in  these  words  :  "  Whosoever  shall  give 
you  a  cup  of  water  to  drink  in  my  name,  because 
ye  belong  to  the  Messiah."  This,  as  I  remember, 
is  the  first  place  where  our  Saviour  ever  mention- 
ed the  name  of  Messiah  ;  and  the  first  time  that 
he  went  so  far  towards  the  owning,  to  any  of  the 
Jewish  nation,  himself  to  be  him. 

90.  In  his  way  to  Jerusalem,  biddmg  one  follow 
him  who  would  first  bury  his  father,  "  Jesus  said 
unto  him,  Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead  ;  but  go 
thou  and  preach  the  kingdom  of  God."  And, 
sending  out  the  seventy  disciples,  he  says  to  them, 
"  Heal  tlie  sick,  and  say.  The  kingdom  of  God  is 
come  nigh  unto  you."  He  had  nothing  else  for 
these,  or  for  his  apostles,  or  any  one,  it  seems,  to 
preach  but  the  good  news  of  the  coming  of  the 
idngdom  of  the  Messiah.  And  if  any  city  would 
not  receive  them,  he  bids  them,  Go  into  the  streets 
of  the  same,  and  say,  "  Even  the  very  dust  of 
your  city,  which  cleaveth  on  us,  do  we  wipe  off 
against  you  :  notwithstanding,  be  ye  sure  of  this, 
that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  come  nigh  unto  you." 
This  they  were  to  take  notice  of.  as  that  which 
they  should  dearly  answer  for,  viz.  that  they  had 
not  with  faith  received  the  good  tidings  of  the 
kingdom  of  the  Messiah. 

91»  After  this  his  brethren  say  unto  him,  John 
vii.  2,  3,  4,  (the  feast  of  tabernacles  being  near,) 
"  Depart  hence,  and  go  into  Judea,  that  thy  disci- 
ples may  see  the  works  that  thou  doest :  for  there 
is  no  man  that  does  any  thing  in  secret,  and  he 
himself  seeketh  to  be  known  openly.  If  thou  do 
these  things,  show  thyself  to  the  world."  Here  his 
brethren,  which  the  next  verse  tells  us  "  did  not 
believe  him,"  seem  to  upbraid  him  with  the  incon- 
sistency of  his  carriage  ;  as  if  he  designed  to  be 
received  for  the  Messiah,  and  yet  was  afraid  to 
show  himself:  to  whom  he  justified  his  conduct, 
(mentioned  verse  1,)  in  the  following  verses,  by 
telling  them,  "  that  the  world  (meaning  the  Jews 
especially)  hated  him,  because  he  testified  of  it, 
that  the  works  thereof  are  evil ;  and  that  his  time 
was  not  yet  fully  come,"  wherein  to  quit  his  re- 
serve, and  abandon  himself  freely  tn  their  malice 
and  fury.  Therefore,  tliough  he  "  went  up  unto 
the  feast,  it  was  not  openly,  but  as  it  were  in  se- 
cret, verse  10.  And  here,  coming  into  the  Lemple 
about  the  middle  of  the  feast,  he  justifies  his  be- 
ing sent  from  God  ;  and  that  he  had  not  done  any 
thing  against  the  law,  in  curing  the  man  at  the 
pool  of  Bethesda  on  the  Sabbath-day;  which, 
though  done  above  a  year  and  a  half  before,  they 
made  use  of  as  a  pretence  to  destroy  him.     But 


*  Chap.  iv.  5. 


what  was  the  true  reason  of  seeking  liis  life,  ap- 
pears from  what  we  have  in  this  seventh  chapter : 
"  Then  said  some  of  them  at  Jerusalem,  Is  not  this 
he  whom  they  seek  to  kill  ?  But,  lo,  he  speaketh 
boldly,  and  they  say  nothing  unto  him.  Do  the 
rulers  know  indeed  that  this  is  tlie  very  Messiali  ? 
Howbeit,  we  know  this  man  whence  he  is ;  but 
when  the  Messiah  cometh,  no  man  knowcth  whence 
he  is.  Then  cried  Jesus  in  the  temple,  as  he 
taught,  Ye  both  know  me,  and  ye  know  whence  I 
am  :  and  I  am  not  come  of  myself,  but  he  that 
sent  me  is  true,  whom  ye  know  not.  But  I  know 
him,  for  I  am  from  him,  and  he  hath  sent  me. 
Then  they  sought  [an  occasion]  to  take  him ;  but 
no  man  lays  hands  on  him,  because  his  hour  was 
not  yet  come.  And  many  of  the  people  believed 
on  him,  and  said,  When  the  Messiali  cometh,  will 
he  do  more  miracles  than  these  which  this  man 
hath  done  1  The  Pharisees  heard  that  the  peoy)le 
murmured  such  things  concerning  him  ;  and  the 
Pharisees  and  chief  priests  sent  officers  to  take  hiin. 
Then  said  Jesus  unto  them.  Yet  a  little  while  am 
I  with  you,  and  then  I  go  to  him  that  sent  mo  : 
ye  shall  seek  me,  and  not  find  me ;  and  where  I 
am,  there  you  cannot  come.  Then  said  the  Jews 
among  themselves.  Whither  wiD  he  go,  that  we 
shall  not  find  liim."  Here  we  find,  that  the  great 
fault  in  our  Saviour,  and  the  great  provocation  to 
the  Jews,  was,  his  being  taken  for  the  Messiali, 
and  doing  such  things  as  made  the  people  "  be- 
lieve in  him ;"  that  is,  believe  that  he  was  the  Mes- 
siah. Here  also  our  Saviour  declares,  in  words 
very  easy  to  be  understood,  at  least  after  his  re- 
surrection, that  he  was  the  Messiah  :  for  if  he  were 
"  sent  from  God,"  and  did  his  miracles  by  the  Spi- 
rit of  God,  there  could  be  no  doubt  but  he  was  the 
Messiah.  But  yet  this  declaration  was  in  a  way 
that  the  Pharisees  and  priests  could  not  lay  hold 
on  to  make  an  accusation  of  to  the  disturbance  ui 
his  ministry,  or  the  seizure  of  his  person,  how 
much  soever  they  desired  it :  for  his  time  was  not 
yet  come.  The  officers  they  Jiad  sent  to  appre- 
hend him,  charmed  with  his  discourse,  returned 
without  laying  hands  on  him  ;  and  when  the  chief 
priests  asked  them,  "why  they  brought  him  not.'" 
they  answered,  "Never  man  spake  like  this  man." 
Whereupon  the  Pharisees  reply,  "  Are  ye  also  de- 
ceived ]  Have  any  of  the  rulers  of  the  Pharisees 
believed  on  him  ?  "But  this  people,  who  know  not 
the  law.  are  cursed."  This  shows  what  was  meant 
bv  "believing  on  him  ;"  viz.  believing  that  he  was 
the  Messiah?  for,  say  they,  have  any  of  the  ruler.s 
who  are  skilled  in  the  law,  or  of  tiie  devout  and 
learned  Pharisees,  acknowledged  liim  to  be  the 
Messiah  ]  For  as  for  those  who,  in  the  division 
among  the  people  concerning  him,  say,  "  that  lie 
is  the  Messiah,"  they  arc  ignorant  and  vile  wretch- 
i  es,  knowing  nothing  of  tlie  Scripture ;  and  being 
accursed,  are  given  by  God  to  be  deceived  by  tiiis 
iuipostor,  and  to  take  him  for  the  Messiah.  Tlicro- 
fore,  notwithstanding  their  desire  to  lay  hold  on 
him,  he  goes  on  :  and  "  In  '.he  last  and  great  day 
of  the  feast,  Jesus  stood  and  cried,  saying,  If  any 
man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me  and  drink  :  he 
that  believeth  on  me,  as  tlie  Scripture  hath  said, 
out  of  his  belly  shall  flow  rivers  of  living  water." 
And  thus  he  here  asrain  declares  himself  to  be  the 
Messiah  ;  but  in  the  prophetic  style,  as  we  sec  by 
i  the  next  ver.se  of  this  chapter,  and  those  places  in 


36 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


the  Old  Testament  that  these  words  of  our  Saviour 
refer  to.  In  the  next  chapter,  John  viii.,  all  that 
he  says  concerning  himselt^  and  what  they  were 
,to  believe,  tends  to  this,  viz.  that  he  was  sent  from 
God  his  Father,  and  that,  if  they  did  not  believe 
that  he  was  the  Messiah,  they  should  die  in  their 
sins :  but  this  in  a  way,  as  St.  John  observes,  that 
they  did  not  well  understand.  But  our  Saviour 
himself  tells  them,  "  When  ye  have  lifted  up  the 
Son  of  man,  then  shall  ye  know  that  I  am  he." 

92.  Going  from  them  he  cures  the  man  born 
blind,  whom  meeting  with  again,  after  the  Jews 
had  questioned  him,  and  cast  iiim  out,  "Jesus  said 
to  him.  Dost  thou  believe  on  the  Son  of  God  1  He 
answered,  Who  is  he,  Lord,  that  I  miglit  believe 
on  him  1  And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Thou  hast  both 
seen  him,  and  it  is  he  that  talketh  with  thee.  And 
he  said.  Lord,  I  believe."*  Here  we  see  this  man 
is  pronounced  a  believer,  when  all  that  was  propos- 
ed to  him  to  believe  was,  that  Jesus  was  the  Son 
of  God  ;  which  was,  as  we  have  already  shown, 
to  believe  that  he  was  the  Messiah.  In  the  next 
chapter,  JoJin  x.,  he  declares  the  laying  down  of  his 
life  for  both  Jews  and  Gentiles ;  but  in  a  parable 
which  they  understood  not. 

'.33.  As  he  was  going  to  the  feast  of  the  dedica- 
tion, the  Piiarisees  ask  him,  "  When  the  kingdom 
of  God  ;"  that  is,  of  the  Messiah,  "should  come?" 
He  answers,  that  it  shall  not  come  with  pomp  and 
observation,  and  great  concourse  ;  but  that  it  was 
already  begun  amongst  them.  If  he  had  stopped 
here,  the  sense  had  been  so  plain  that  they  could 
liardly  have  mistaken  him  ;  or  have  doubted  but 
that  he  meant  that  the  Messiah  was  already  come 
and  amongst  them  ;  and  so  might  have  been  prone 
to  infer,  that  Jesus  took  upon  him  to  be  him.  But 
here,  as  in  the  place  before  taken  notice  of,  sub- 
joining to  this  future  revelation  of  himself,  both  in 
his  coming  to  execute  vengeance  on  the  Jews,  and 
in  his  comhig  to  judgment  mixed  together,  he  so 
involved  his  sense,  that  it  was  not  easy  to  under- 
stand iiim.  And  tlierefore  the  Jews  came  to  liim 
again  in  the  temple,  John  x.,  and  said,  "How  long 
dost  thou  make  us  doubt?  If  thou  be  Christ,  tell 
us  plainly.  Jesus  answered.  I  told  ye,  and  ye  be- 
lieved not :  the  works  tliat  I  do  in  my  Father's 
name,  they  bear  witness  of  me.  But  ye  believed 
not,  because  ye  are  not  of  my  sheep,  as  I  told  you." 
The  believing  here,  which  ho  accuses  them  of  not 
doing,  is  plainly  their  not  believing  him  to  be  the 
Messiah,  as  the  foregoing  words  evince  ;  and  in 
the  same  sense  it  is  evidently  meant  in  the  follow- 
ing verses  of  this  chapter. 

94.  From  hence,  Jesus  going  to  Barbara,  and 
thence  returning  into  Betliany,  upon  Lazarus's 
death,  Jesus  said  to  Martha,  "  I  am  the  resurrec- 
tion and  the  life  ;  he  that  believeth  in  me,  though 
he  were  dead,  yet  he  shall  live  ;  and  whosoever 
liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die  forever." 
So  I  understand  uTToduvii  ck  tov  atutva,  ansv/erable 
to  ^iiacTai  £is  TOV  aiu>va,  of  the  Septuagint,  Gen.  iii. 
22,  or  John  vi.  51,  which  we  read  right  in  our 
English  translation,  "  live  for  ever  ;"  but  whether 
this  saying  of  our  S;iviour  here  can  with  truth  be 
translated,  "  He,  that  livetli  and  believeth  in  me, 
Khali  never  die,"  will  be  apt  to  be  questioned.  But 
to  go  on,  "  Believest  thou  tliiB  1  She  said  unto  him, 


John  ix. 


Yea,  Lord,  I  believe  that  thou  art  the  Messiah, 
the  Son  of  God,  which  should  come  into  the  world." 
Tliis  she  gives  as  a  fuU  answer  to  our  Saviour's 
demands  ;  this  being  that  faith  which  whoever 
had,  wanted  no  more  to  make  them  believers. 

95.  We  may  observe  further,  in  this  same  story 
of  the  raising  of  Lazarus,  what  faith  it  was  our 
Saviom-  expected,  by  what  ho  says,  verses  41,  42 : 
"  Father,  I  tliank  thee  that  thou  hast  heard  me  ; 
and  I  know  that  thou  hearest  me  always.  But  be- 
cause of  the  people  wlio  stand  by,  I  said  it,  that 
they  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me."  And 
what  the  consequence  of  it  was,  we  may  see,  verse 
45 ;  "  Then  many  of  the  Jews  who  came  to  Mary, 
and  had  seen  the  things  which  Jesus  did,  believed 
on  him  :"  which  belief  was,  that  he  was  sent  from 
the  Father  ;  which,  in  other  words,  was,  that  Ite 
was  the  Messiah.  That  this  is  the  meaning,  in 
the  EvangeUsts,  of  the  phrase  of  "  believii:g  on 
him,"  we  have  a  demonstration  in  the  following 
words,  verses  47,  48:  "Then  gathered  the  chief 
priests  and  Pharisees  a  council,  and  said,  What  do 
we  1  For  this  man  does  many  miracles  ;  and  if 
we  let  him  alone,  all  men  will  believe  on  liiin." 
Those  who  here  say,  all  men  would  believe  on  him, 
were  the  chief  priests  and  Piiarisees,  his  enemies, 
who  sought  his  life  ;  and  therefore  could  have  no 
other  sense  nor  thought  of  this  faith  in  him,  which 
they  spake  of,  but  only  the  believing  him  to  be  the 
Messiah  :  and  that  that  was  their  meaning  the  ad- 
joining words  show  :  "If  we  let  him  alone,  all  the 
world  will  believe  on  him  ;"  that  is,  believe  him  to 
be  the  Messiah.  And  the  Romans  will  come  and 
take  away  both  our  place  and  nation.  Which 
reasoning  of  theirs  was  thus  grounded  : — if  we 
stand  still,  and  let  the  people  believe  on  him,  (that 
is,  receive  him  for  the  Alessiah,)  they  will  thereby 
take  him  and  set  him  up  for  their  king,  and  expect 
deliverance  by  him  ;  which  will  draw  the  Roman 
arms  upon  us,  to  the  destruction  of  us  and  our 
country.  The  Romans  could  not  be  thought  to  be 
at  all  concerned  in  any  other  belief  whatsoever 
that  the  people  might  have  on  him.  It  is  therefore 
plain,  that  "  believing  on  him"  was,  by  the  writers 
of  the  gospel,  understood  to  mean,  the  "believing 
him  to  be  the  Messiah."  "  The  saniiedrim,  there- 
fore, from  that  day  forth  consulted  to  put  him  to 
death.  Jesus,  therefore,  walked  not  yet  (for  so  the 
word  en  signifies  ;  and  so  I  think  it  ought  here  to 
bo  translated)  boldly,"  or  openfaced  "  among  the 
Jews  ;"  that  is,  of  Jerusalem.  "Et-i  cannot  well 
here  be  translated  "  no  more,"  because  within  a 
very  short  time  after  he  appeared  openly,  at  the 
passover,  and  by  his  miracles  and  speech  declared 
himself  more  freely  than  ever  he  had  done  ;  and 
all  the  week  before  his  passion  taught  daily  in  the 
temple.*  The  meaning  of  this  place  seems  there- 
fore to  be  this :  that  his  time  being  not  yet  come, 
he  durst  not  show  himself  openly  and  confidently 
before  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  and  those  of  tiie 
sanhedrim  at  Jerusalem,  who  were  full  of  malice 
against  him,  and  resolved  his  death  ;  "  but  went 
thence  into  a  country  near  the  wilderness,  into  a 
city  called  Ephraim  ;  and  there  continued  with  his 
disciples,  to  keep  himself  out  of  the  way  till  the 
passover,  which  was  nigh  at  hand."  In  his  return 
thither,  he  takes  the  twelve  aside,  and  tells  them 


Matt.  XX.  17  ;  Mark  x.  32  ;  Luke  xviii.  31,  &c. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OP    CHRISTIANITY. 


37 


beforehand  what  should  happen  to  him  at  Jerusa- 
lem, whither  they  were  now  goinj^  ;  and  that  all 
things  that  are  written  by  the  prophets  concern- 
ing the  Son  of  man  should  be  accomplished ; 
that  he  should  be  betrayed  to  the  chief  priests 
and  Scribes  ;  and  that  they  should  condemn  him 
to  death,  and  deliver  him  to  the  Gentiles  ;  that 
he  should  be  mocked,  and  spit  on,  and  scourged, 
and  put  to  death  ;  and  the  third  day  lie  should 
rise  again.  But  St.  Luke  tells  us,  that  the  apostles 
"  understood  none  of  these  things,  and  this  saying 
was  hid  from  them ;  neither  knew  they  the  things 
which  were  spoken."  They  beheved  him  to  he 
the  Son  of  God,  the  Messiah  sent  from  the  Fa- 
ther; but  their  notion  of  the  Messiah  was  the 
same  with  the  rest  of  the  Jews  ;  that  he  should 
be  a  temporal  prince  and  deliverer.  Accordingly 
we  see,  Mark  x.,  that  even  in  this  their  last  jour- 
ney with  him  to  Jerusalem,  two  of  them,  James 
and  John,  coming  to  liim,  and  falling  at  his  feet, 
paid,  "Grant  unto  us,  that  we  may  sit,  one  on  thy 
right  hand  and  the  other  on  tliy  loft  hand,  in  thy 
glory  ;"  or,  as  St.  Matthew  has  it,  chapter  xx., 
"  in  tliy  kingdom."  That  which  distinguislied 
them  from  the  unbelieving  Jews  was,  that  they 
believed  Jesus  to  be  the  very  Messiah,  and  so  re- 
ceived him  as  their  king  and  Lord. 

96.  And  now  the  hour  being  come  that  the  Son 
of  man  should  be  glorified,  he,  without  his  usual 
reserve,  makes  his  public  entry  into  "  Jerusalem, 
riding  on  a  young  ass  :  as  it  is  written,  Fear  not, 
daughter  of  Sion,  behold  thy  King  cometi),  sitting 
on  an  ass's  colt."  But  "these  things,"  sailh  St. 
John,  "his  disciples  understood  not  at  the  first; 
but  when  Jesus  was  glorified,  then  remembered 
they  that  these  things  were  written  of  him,  and 
that  they  had  done  these  things  imto  liim." — 
Though  the  apostles  beheved  him  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah, yet  there  were  many  occurrences  of  his  life 
which  they  understood  not  (at  the  time  when  they 
happened)  to  be  foretold  of  the  Messiah ;  which  | 
after  his  ascension  they  found  exactly  to  quadrate,  j 
Thus,  according  to  what  was  foretold  of  him,  he 
rode  into  the  city,  "  all  the  people  crying,  Hosan- 
na,  blessed  is  the  King  of  Israel,  that  cometh  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord."  This  was  so  open  a  de- 
claration of  his  bcmg  the  INIessiah,  that  "  some  of 
the  Pharisees  from  among  the  multitude  said  unto 
him.  Master,  rebuke  thy  disciples."  But  he  was 
so  far  now  from  stopping  them,  or  disowning  this 
their  acknowledgment  of  his  being  the  Messiah, 
that  he  "  said  unto  them,  I  tell  you,  that  if  these 
should  hold  their  peace,  the  stones  would  imme- 
diately cry  out."  And  again,  upon  the  like  occa- 
sion of  their  crying,  "  Hosanna,  to  the  Son  of 
David,"  in  the  "temple,  when  "  the  chief  priests 
and  Scribes  were  sore  displeased,  and  said  unto 
liiin,  Hcarest  thou  what  they  say  1  Jesus  said 
unto  them,  Yea ;  have  ye  never  read,  Out  of  the 
mouths  of  babes  and  suckhngs  thou  hast  perfect- 
ed praise  ?"  And  now,  "  he  cures  the  blind  and 
the  lame  openly  in  the  temple.  And  when  the 
chief  priests  and  Scribes  saw  the  wonderful  things  , 
that  he  did,  and  the  children  crying  in  the  tem- 
ple, Hosanna,  they  were  enraged."  One  would 
not  think,  that  after  the  multitude  of  miracles  that  | 
our  Saviour  liad  now  been  doing  for  above  three  | 
years  together,  that  the  curing  the  lame  and  blind  j 
Fliould  so  much  move  them.  But  wc  must  re- 1 
7  G  (18) 


member  that  though  liis  ministry  had  abounded 
with  miracles,  yet  the  most  of  them  had  been 
done  about  Galilee,  and  in  parts  remote  from  Je- 
rusalem. There  is  but  one  left  upon  record  hi- 
therto  done  in  that  ciiy  ;  and  that  had  so  ill  a  re- 
ception, that  they  soughl^  his  life  for  it ;  as  we  may 
read,  John  v.  16.  And  therefore  we  hear  not  of 
his  being  at  the  next  passover,  because  lie  was 
there  only  privately,  as  an  ordinary  Jew  :  the  rea- 
son whereof  we  may  read,  John  vii.  1  :  »  After 
these  things,  Jesus  walked  in  Galilee,  for  he  would 
not  walk  in  Jewry,  because  the  Jews  sought  to 
kill  him." 

97.  Hence  we  may  guess  the  reason  why  St. 
John  omitted  the  mention  of  his  being  at  Jerusa- 
lem at  the  third  passover  after  his  baptism  ;  pro- 
bably  because  he  did  nothing  memorable  there. 
Indeed,  when  he  was  at  the  feast  of  tabernacles, 
immediately  preceding  this  last  passover,  he  cured 
the  man  born  blind  :  but  it  appears  not  to  liave 
been  done  in  Jerusalem  itself,  but  in  the  way  as  lie 
retired  to  the  Mount  of  Olives;  for  there  seems 
to  have  been  nobody  by  when  he  did  it,  hut  his 
apostles.  Compare  verso  2,  with  verse  8,  10,  of 
St.  John  ix.  This,  at  least,  is  remarkable,  that 
neither  the  cure  of  this  blind  man,  nor  that  of  the 
other  infirm  man,  at  the  passover  above  a  twelve- 
month before  at  Jerusalem,  was  done  in  the  sight 
of  the  Scribes,  Pharisees,  chief  priests,  or  rulers. 
Nor  was  it  without  reason,  that  in  the  former  part 
of  his  ministry  he  was  cautious  of  showing  himself 
to  them  to  be  the  Messiah.  But  now  that  he  was 
come  to  the  last  scene  of  his  life,  and  that  the 
passover  was  come,  the  appointed  time  wherein  he 
was  to  complete  the  work  he  came  for,  in  his  death 
and  resurrection,  he  does  many  tilings  in  Jerusa- 
lem itself,  before  the  face  of  tlie  Scribes,  Pharisees, 
and  whole  body  of  the  Jewish  nation,  to  manifest 
himself  to  be  the  Messiah.  And,  as  St.  Luke  says, 
"  He  taught  daily  in  the  temple ;  but  the  cliief 
priests,  and  the  Scribes,  and  the  chief  of  the  peo- 
ple, sought  to  destroy  him ;  and  could  not  find 
what  they  might  do,  for  all  the  peopl<>  were  very 
attentive  to  hear  him."  What  he  taught  we  are 
not  left  to  guess,  by  what  we  have  found  him  con- 
stantly preaching  elsewhere  ;  but  St.  Luke  tells  us, 
chap.'xx.,  "He  taught  in  the  temple,  and  cvaiige- 
hzed  ;"  or,  as  we  translate  it,  «  preached  the  gos- 
gel :"  which,  as  we  have  showed,  was  the  making 
known  to  them  the  good  news  of  the  kingdom  of 
the  Messiah.  And  this  we  shall  find  he  did,  in 
what  now  remains  of  his  history. 

98.  In  the  first  discourse  of  his,  which  we  find 
upon  record  after  this,  John  xii.  'JO,  &c.  he  fore- 
tells his  crucifixion,  and  the  belief  of  all  sorts,  both 
Jews  and  Gentiles,  on  him  after  that.  Where- 
upon  the  people  say  to  him,  "  We  have  Iieard,  out 
of  the  law,  thattlio  Messiah  abidelh  for  over;  and 
how  sayest  thou,  that  the  Son  of  man  must  be 
lifted  upl  Who  is  this  Son  of  man?"  In  his 
answer  he  plainly  designs  himself,  under  the  name 
of  Light ;  which  was  what  he  had  declared  liimself 
to  them  to  be,  the  last  time  that  they  had  seen  him 
in  Jerusalem.  For  then,  at  the  feast  of  tabernacles, 
but  six  months  before,  he  tells  them  in  the  very 
place  where  he  now  Is,  viz.  in  the  temple,  "  I  am 
the  Liirht  of  the  world  ;  whosoever  follows  me 
shall  not  walk  in  darkness,  but  shall  have  tlie  hghi 
of  life  :"  as  we  may  read,  John  viii.  12,  and  ix.  o, 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


he  says,  "  As  long  as  I  am  in  the  world,  I  am  the 
Light  of  the  world."  But  neither  here,  nor  any 
where  else,  does  he,  even  in  these  four  or  five  last 
days  of  his  life,  (though  he  knew  his  hour  was 
come,  and  was  prepared  for  his  death,  and  scru- 
pled not  to  manifest  himself  to  the  rulers  of  the 
Jews  to  be  the  Messiah,  by  doing  miracles  before 
them  in  the  temple,)  ever  once  in  direct  words  own 
himself  to  the  Jews  to  be  the  Messiah  ;  though  by 
miracle.,  and  other  ways,  he  did  every  where  make 
it  known  to  them,  so  that  it  might  be  understood. 
This  could  not  be  without  some  reason  ;  and  the 
preservation  of  his  life,  whicli  he  came  now  to  Je- 
rusalem on  purpose  to  lay  down,  could  not  be  it. 
What  other  reason  could  it  then  be,  but  the  same 
which  had  made  him  use  caution  in  the  former 
part  of  his  ministry,  so  to  conduct  himself  that 
he  might  do  the  work  which  he  came  for,  and  in 
all  parts  answer  the  character  given  of  the  Mes- 
siah in  the  law  and  the  prophets  ?  He  had  fulfilled 
the  time  of  his  ministry,  and  now  taught  and  did 
miracles  openly  in  the  temple,  before  the  rulers 
and  the  people,  not  fearing  to  be  seized  :  but  he 
would  not  be  seized  for  any  thing  that  might  make 
him  a  criminal  to  the  government ;  and  therefore 
he  avoided  giving  those,  who  in  the  division  that 
was  about  him  inclined  towards  him,  occasion  of 
tumult  for  his  sake  ;  or  to  the  Jews,  his  enemies, 
matter  of  just  accusation  against  him  out  of  his 
own  mouth,  by  professing  himself  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah, the  king  of  Israel,  in  du-ect  words.  It  was 
enough,  that  by  words  and  deeds  he  declared  it  so 
to  them,  that  they  could  not  but  understand  him; 
which  it  is  plain  they  did,  Luke  xx.  16, 19  ;  Matt, 
xxi.  45.  But  yet  neither  his  actions,  which  were 
only  doing  of  good,  nor  words,  which  were  mys- 
tical and  parabolical,  (as  we  may  see,  Matt.  xxi. 
and  xxii.,  and  the  parallel  places  of  Matthew  and 
Luke,)  nor  any  of  liis  ways  of  making  himself 
known  to  be  the  Messiah,  could  be  brought  in 
testimony,  or  urged  against  him  as  opposite  or 
dangerous  to  the  government.  This  preserved  him 
from  being  condemned  as  a  malefactor,  and  pro- 
cured him  a  testimony  from  the  Roman  governor, 
his  judge,  that  he  was  an  innocent  man,  sacrificed 
to  the  envy  of  the  Jewish  nation.  So  that  he 
avoided  saying  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  that  to 
those  who  could  call  to  mind  his  life  and  death 
after  his  resurrection,  he  might  the  more  clearly 
appear  to  be  so.  It  is  further  to  be  remarked,  that 
though  he  often  appeals  to  the  testimony  of  his 
miracles  who  he  is,  yet  he  never  tells  the  Jews  that 
he  was  born  at  Bethlehem,  to  remove  the  prejudice 
that  lay  against  him,  while  he  passed  for  a  Gali- 
lean, and  which  was  urged  as  a  proof  that  ho  was 
not  the  Messiah,  .Tolm  vii.  41,  42.  The  healing  of 
the  sick,  and  doing  of  good  miraculously,  could  be 
no  crime  in  him,  nor  accusation  against  him  :  but 
the  naming  of  Bethlehem  for  his  birth-place,  might 
have  wrought  as  much  upon  the  mind  of  Pilate  as 
it  did  on  Herod's  ;  and  have  raised  a  suspicion  in 
Pilate  as  prejudicial  to  our  Saviour's  innocence  as 
Herod's  was  to  the  children  born  there.  His  pre- 
tending to  be  born  at  Bethlehem,  as  it  was  liable 
to  be  explained  by  the  Jews,  could  not  have  failed 
to  have  met  with  a  sinister  interpretation  in  the 
Roman  governor,  and  have  rendered  Jesus  sus- 
pected of  some  criminal  design  against  the  govern- 
ment.    And  hence  we  see,  that  when  Pilate  asked 


him,  "  Whence  art  thou?    Jesus  gave  him  no  an- 
swer." 

99.  Whether  our  Saviour  had  not  an  eye  to  this 
straitness,  this  narrow  room  that  was  left  to  his 
conduct,  between  the  new  converts  and  the  cap- 
tious Jews,  when  he  says,  "  I  have  a  baptism  to 
be  baptized  with ;  and  rrO;  mviixo^at,  how  am  I 
straitened  till  it  be  accompUshed,"  I  leave  to  be 
considered.  "  I  am  come  to  send  fire  on  the 
earth,"  says  our  Saviour  ;  "and  what  if  it  be  al- 
ready kindled  V  that  is,  there  begin  already  to  be 
divisions  about  me,*  and  I  have  not  the  freedom, 
the  latitude,  to  declare  myself  openly  to  be  the 
Messiah  ;  though  I  am  he,  that  must  not  be  spo- 
ken out  till  after  my  death.  My  way  to  my  throne 
is  closely  hedged  in  on  every  side,  and  much 
straitened,  within  which  I  must  keep,  till  it  bring 
me  to  my  cross,  in  its  due  time  and  manner,  so 
that  it  do  not  cut  short  the  time,  nor  cross  the  end 
of  m.y  ministry. 

100.  And  therefore  to  keep  up  this  inoffensive 
character,  and  not  to  let  it  come  within  the  reach 
of  accident  or  calumny,  he  withdrew  with  his  apos- 
tles out  of  the  town  every  evening,  and  kept  him- 
self retired  out  of  the  way.  "  And  in  the  day 
time  he  was  teaching  in  the  temple,  and  every 
night  he  Vv'ent  out,  and  abode  in  the  mount  that  is 
called  the  Mount  of  Olives  ;"  that  he  might  avoid 
all  concourse  to  him  in  the  night,  and  give  no 
occasion  of  disturbance  or  suspicion  of  himself 
in  that  great  conflux  of  the  whole  nation  of  the 
Jews,  now  assembled  in  Jerusalem  at  the  pass- 
over. 

101.  But  to  return  to  his  preaching  in  the  tem- 
ple. He  bids  them  "  to  believe  in  the  light  whilst 
they  have  it  :"f  and  he  tells  them,  "  I  am  the  light 
come  into  the  world,  that  every  one  who  believes 
in  me  should  not  remain  in  darkness."  Which 
believing  in  him,  was  the  believing  him  to  be  the 
Messiah,  as  I  have  elsewhere  showed.  The  next 
day,  he  rebukes  them  for  not  having  believed 
John  the  Baptist,  who  had  testified  that  he  was 
the  Messiah:  and  then,  in  a  parable,  declares 
himself  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  whom  they  should 
destroy  ;  and  that  for  it  God  would  take  away 
the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah  from  them,  and  give 
it  to  the  Gentiles.t  That  they  understood  him 
thus  is  plain  from  Luke  xx.  16  :  "  And  when  they 
heard  it,  they  said,  God  forbid ;"  and  verse  19, 
"  For  they  knew  that  he  had  spoken  tliis  parable 
against  them." 

102.  Much  to  the  same  purpose  was  his  next 
parable,  concerning  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Matt. 
xxii.,  that  the  Jews  not  accepting  of  the  kingdom 
of  the  Messiah,  to  whom  it  was  first  offered,  others 
should  be  brought  in.  The  Scribes  and  Pharisees 
and  chief  priests,  not  able  to  bear  the  declaration 
he  made  of  himself  to  be  the  Messiah,  (by  his  dis- 
courses and  miracles  before  them,  f/iirpo^c^  avrdv, 
John  xii.  37,  which  he  had  never  done  before,) 
impatient  of  his  preaching  and  miracles,  and  being 
not  able  otherwise  to  stop  tlie  increase  of  his  fol- 
lowers, (for,  "said  the  Pharisees  among  them- 
selves. Perceive  ye  how  ye  prevail  nothing  1  Be- 
hold, the  world  is  gone  after  him."  So  that  the 
"  chief  priests,  and  tlie  Scribes,  and  the  chief  of  the 


*  Vide  John  vii.  12,  43,  and  ix.  16,  and  x.  19. 
t  John  xii.  36.  t  Matt.  xxi. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


people,)  sought  to  destroy  him,"  the  first  day  of 
his  entrance  into  Jerusalem.  The  next  day,  again 
they  were  intent  upon  the  same  thing.  And  he 
taught  in  the  temple  ;  "  and  the  Scribes  and  the 
chief  priests  heard  it,  and  sought  how  they  might 
destroy  him  ;  for  they  feared  him,  because  all  the 
people  were  astonished  at  his  doctrine." 

103.  The  next  day  but  one,  upon  his  telling 
them  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah  should  be  taken 
from  them,  "  the  chief  priests  and  Scribes  sougiit 
to  lay  hands  on  him  the  same  hour  ;  and  they 
feared  tlie  people,"  Luke  xx.  If  they  had  so  great 
a  desire  to  lay  hold  on  him,  why  did  they  not? — 
They  were  the  chief  priests  and  the  rulers,  the 
men  of-power.  The  reason  St.  Luke  plainly  tells 
us  in  the  next  verse  :  "  And  they  watched  him, 
and  sent  forth  spies,  which  should  feign  them- 
selves just  men,  that  they  might  take  hold  of  his 
words,  that  so  they  might  dehver  him  into  the 
power  and  authority  of  the  governor."  They 
vi^anted  matter  of  accusation  against  him  to  the 
power  they  were  under :  that  they  watched  for, 
and  that  they  would  have  been  glad  of,  if  they 
could  have  entangled  him  in  his  talk,  as  St.  Mat- 
thew expresses  it.*  If  they  could  have  laid  hold 
on  any  word  that  had  dropped  from  him,  that 
might  have  rendered  him  guilty  or  suspected  to 
the  Roman  governor,  that  would  have  served 
their  turn,  to  have  laid  hold  upon  him,  with  hopes 
to  destroy  him :  for  their  power  not  answering 
their  mahce,  they  could  not  puL  him  to  death  by 
their  own  authority,  without  the  permission  and 
assistance  of  the  governor,  as  they  confess,  John 
xviii.  31  :  "  It  is  not  lawful  for  us  to  put  any  man 
to  death."  This  made  them  so  earnest  for  a  de- 
claration in  direct  words  from  his  own  mouth,  that 
he  was  the  Messiah.  It  was  not  that  they  would 
more  have  believed  in  him  for  such  a  declaration 
of  himself,  than  they  did  for  his  miracles,  or  other 
ways  of  making  himself  known,  which  it  appears 
they  understood  well  enough ;  but  they  wanted 
plain  direct  words,  such  as  might  support  an  ac- 
cusation, and  be  of  weight  before  an  heathen 
judge.  This  was  the  reason  why  they  pressed 
him  to  speak  out:  "Then  came  the  Jews  round 
about  him,  and  said  unto  him.  How  long  dost  thou 
hold  us  in  suspense  1  If  thou  be  the  Messiah, 
tell  us  plainly,"}  Trappnaia  ;  that  is,  in  direct  words; 
for  that  St.  John  uses  it  in  that  sense,  we  may  see 
chap.  xi.  11 — 14:  "Jesus  saith  to  them,  Lazarus 
sleepeth."  His  disciples  said,  "  If  he  sleeps,  he 
shall  do  well.  Howbeit,  Jesus  spake  of  his  death  ; 
but  they  thought  he  had  spoken  of  taking  of  rest 
in  sleep.  Then  said  Jesus  to  them  plainly,  nali'pnaia, 
Lazarus  is  dead."  Here  we  see  what  is  meant 
by  Ttapfiriaia,  plain  direct  words,  such  as  express 
the  thing  without  a  figure  ;  and  so  they  would 
have  had  Jesus  pronounce  himself  to  be  the 
Messiah.  And  the  same  thing  they  press  again. 
Matt.  xvi.  the  high-priest  adjuring  him  by  the 
living  God,  to  tell  them  whether  he  were  the 
Messiah,  the  Son  of  God,  as  we  shall  have  occa- 
sion to  take  notice  by-and-by. 

104.  This  we  may  observe  in  the  whole  man- 
agement of  their  design  against  his  life.  It  turned 
upon  this ;  that  they  wanted  and  wished  for  a  de- 
claration from  him,  in  direct  words,  that  he  was 


Chap.  xxii. 


t  John  x. 


the  Messiah ;  something  from  his  own  mouth, 
that  might  offend  the  Roman  power,  and  render 
him  criminal  to  Pilate.  "  They  asked  him,  say- 
mg,  master,  we  know  that  tiiou  sayest  and  teach- 
est  rightly ;  neither  acceptest  thou  the  person  of 
any,  but  teachest  the  way  of  God  truly.  Is  it 
lawful  for  us  to  give  tribute  to  Ciesar,  or  no  ?"  By 
this  captious  question  they  hoped  to  catch  him, 
which  way  soever  he  answered  ;  for  if  he  had 
said,  they  ought  to  pay  tribute  to  Csesar,  it  would 
be  plain  he  allowed  their  subjection  to  the  Ro- 
mans,  and  so  in  effect  disowned  himself  to  be 
their  king  and  deliverer;  whereby  he  would  have 
contradicted  what  his  carriage  and  doctrine  seem- 
ed to  aim  at,  the  opinion  that  was  spread  amongst 
the  people,  that  he  was  the  Messiah.  This  would 
have  quashed  the  hopes,  and  destroyed  the  faith 
of  those  who  believed  on  him,  and  have  turned 
the  ears  and  hearts  of  the  people  from  him.  If, 
on  the  other  side,  he  answered  No,  it  is  not  lawful 
to  pay  tribute  to  Cassar,  they  had  had  out  of  his 
own  mouth  wherewithal  to  condemn  him  before 
Pontius  Pilate.  But  St.  Luke  tells  us,  "He  per- 
ceived their  craftiness,  and  said  unto  them,  Why 
tempt  ye  me]"  that  is,  why  do  ye  lay  snares  for 
me  ?  "  Ye  hypocrites,  show  me  the  tribute-mo- 
ney." So  it  is.  Matt.  xxii.  19.  "  Wiiose  image 
and  inscription  has  it?  They  said,  Caesar's.  He 
said  unto  them.  Render,  therefore,  to  Csesar  the 
things  that  are  Caesar's,  and  to  God  the  things 
that  are  God's."  By  the  wisdom  and  caution  of 
wliich  unexpected  answer,  he  defeated  their  whole 
design.  "And  they  could  not  take  hold  of  his 
words  before  the  people ;  and  they  marvelled  at 
his  answer,  and  held  their  peace,"  Luke  xx.  26 : 
"and  leaving  him,  they  departed,"  Matt.  xxii.  22. 

105.  He  having,  Ly  this  reply,  (and  what  he 
answered  to  the  Sadducees  concerning  the  resur- 
rection, and  to  the  lawyer  about  the  first  com- 
mandment, Mark  xii.,)  answered  so  little  to  their 
satisfaction  or  advantage,  they  durst  ask  him  no 
more  questions  any  of  them.  And  now  their 
mouths  being  stopped,  he  himself  begins  to  ques- 
tion them  about  the  Messiah,  asking  the  Phari- 
sees, Matt.  xxii.  "  What  think  ye  of  the  Messiah, 
whose  Son  is  he  I  They  say  unto  him  the  son  of 
David :"  wherein,  though  they  answered  right, 
yet  he  shows  them,  in  the  following  words,  that 
however  they  pretended  to  be  studiers  and  teach- 
ers of  the  law,  yet  they  understood  not  clearly 
the  Scriptures  concerning  the  Messiah ;  and 
thereupon  he  sharply  rebukes  their  hypocrisy, 
vanity,  pride,  malice,  r ovetousness,  and  ignorance 
—and  particularly  tells  them,  "  Ye  shut  up  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  against  men ;  for  ye  neither 
go  in  yourselves,  nor  suffer  ye  them  that  are  en- 
tering, to  go  in."  Whereby  he  plainly  declares  to 
them^  that  the  Messiah  was  come,  and  his  king- 
dom began ;  but  that  they  refused  to  believe  in 
him  themselves,  and  did  all  they  could  to  hinder 
others  from  behoving  in  him,  as  is  manifest 
throughout  the  New  Testament;  the  history 
whereof  sufficiently  explains  what  is  meant  here 
by  the  "  kingdom  of  heaven,"  which  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees  would  neither  go  into  themselves, 
nor  suffer  others  to  enter  into.  And  they  could 
not  choose  but  understand  him,  though  he  named 
not  himself  in  the  case. 

infi   Provoked  anew  by  his  rebukes,  they  get 


40 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


presently  to  council :  "  Then  assembled  together 
the  chief  priests,  and  the  Scribes,  and  the  elders 
of  the  people,  unto  the  palace  of  the  high-priest, 
who  was  called  Caiaphas,  and  consulted  that  they 
might  take  Jesus  by  subtilty,  and  kill  him.  But 
they  said.  Not  on  the  feast-day,  lest  there  be  an 
uproar  among  the  people.  For  they  feared  the 
people,"  says  St.  Luke,  chap.  xxii.  Having  in 
the  night  got  Jesus  intotheir  hands,  by  the  treach- 
ery of  Judas,  they  presently  led  him  away,  bound, 
to  Annas,  the  father-in-law  of  Caiaphas,  the  high- 
priest,  who  probably  having  examined  him,  and 
getting  nothing  out  of  him  for  his  purpose,  sends 
him  away  to  Caiaphas,  where  the  chief  priests,  the 
Scribes,  and  tlie  elders  were  assembled,  John  xviii. 
19,  20  :  "  The  high- priest  then  asked  Jesus  of  liis 
disciples  and  of  his  doctrine.  Jesus  answered 
him,  I  spake  openly  to  the  world  ;  I  ever  taught 
ill  the  synagogue,  and  in  the  temple,  whither  the 
Jews  always  resort  ;  and  in  secret  have  I  said  no- 
thing." A  proof  that  he  had  not  in  private  to  his 
disciples  declared  himself  in  express  words  to  be 
the  Messiah,  the  Prince.  But  he  goes  on.  "  Why 
askest  thou  me  V  Ask  Judas,  who  has  been  always 
with  me.  "  Ask  them  wlio  heard  me  what  I  have 
said  unto  them  ;  behold,  they  know  what  I  said." 
Our  Saviour,  we  see,  here  wardy  declines,  for  the 
reasons  above  mentioned,  all  discourse  of  his  doc- 
trine. The  sanhedrim.  Matt.  xxvi.  "  sought  false 
witness  against  him  ;"  but  when  they  found  none 
that  were  sufficient,  or  came  up  to  the  point  they 
desired,  which  was  to  have  something  against  him 
to  take  away  his  life ;  (for  so  I  think  the  words 
fcat  and  tai,  mean,  Mark  xiv.  56,  59 ;)  they  try 
again  what  they  can  get  out  of  him  himself,  con- 
cerning his  being  the  Messiah  ;  which  if  he  owned 
in  express  words,  they  thought  they  sliould  have 
enough  against  him  at  the  tribunal  of  the  Roman 
governor,  to  make  him  1(£sce  majestatis  reum,  and 
60  to  take  away  his  life.  They  therefore  say  to 
him,  Luke  xxii.  67  :  "  If  thou  be  the  Messiah, 
tell  us  :"  nay,  as  St.  Matthev/  hath  it,  the  high- 
priest  adjures  him  by  the  living  God  to  tell  them 
whether  he  were  the  Messiah.  To  which  our  Sa- 
viour replies  :  "If  I  tell  you,  ye  will  not  believe; 
and  if  I  ask  you,  ye  will  not  answer  mc,  nor  let  me 
go."  If  I  tell  you,  and  prove  to  you,  by  the  testi- 
mony given  of  me  from  heaven,  and  by  the  works 
that  I  have  done  among  you,  you  will  not  believe 
in  me,  that  I  am  the  Messiah  :  or,  if  I  should  ask 
you  whore  the  Messiah  is  to  be  born,  and  what 
state  he  should  come  in,  how  he  should  appear, 
and  other  things  that  you  think  in  me  not  recon- 
cilable with  the  Messiah  ;  you  will  not  answer 
me,  and  let  mc  go,  as  one  that  has  no  pretence  to 
be  the  Messiah,  and  you  are  not  afraid  should  be 
received  for  such.  But  yet  I  tell  you,  "  hereafter 
shall  the  Son  of  man  sit  on  the  right  hand  of  the 
power  of  God,"  verse  70.  Then  said  they  all, 
'•  Art  thou  then  the  Son  of  God  !  And  he  said 
unto  them.  Ye  say  that  I  am."  By  which  dis- 
course with  them,  related  at  large  here  by  St. 
Luke,  it  is  plain,  that  the  answer  of  our  Saviour, 
set  down  by  St.  Matthew,  chap.  xxvi.  64,  in  these 
words, «'  Thou  hast  said  ;"  and  by  St.  Mark,  chap. 
xvi.  62,  in  these,  "  I  am  ;"  is  an  answer  only  to 
this  question,  "Art  thou  then  the  Son  of  God"?" 
and  not  to  that  other,  "Art  thou  the  Messiah?" 
which  preceded,  and  he  had  answered  to  before  ; 


though  Matthew  and  Mark,  contracting  the  story, 
set  them  down  together,  as  if  making  but  one 
question,  omitting  all  the  intervening  discourse  ; 
whereas  it  is  plain,  out  of  St.  Luke,  that  they 
were  two  distinct  questions,  to  which  Jesus  gave 
two  distinct  answers  :  in  the  first  whereof  he,  ac- 
cording to  his  usual  caution,  declined  saying  in 
plain  express  words  that  he  was  the  Messiah  ; 
though  in  the  latter  he  owned  himself  to  be  the 
Son  of  God :  which,  though  they,  being  Jews 
understood  to  signify  the  Messiah,  yet  he  luiew 
could  be  no  legal  or  weighty  accusation  against 
him  before  a  heathen  ;  and  so  it  proved  :  for  upon 
his  answering  to  their  question,  "  Art  thou  then 
the  Son  of  God  J  Ye  say  that  I  am  ;"  tliey  cry 
out,  "  What  need  we  any  further  witnesses  '!  For 
we  ourselves  have  heard  out  of  his  own  mouth  :" 
and  so  thinking  they  had  enough  against  him, 
they  hurry  him  away  to  Pilate.  Pilate  asking 
them,  "  What  accusation  bring  you  against  this 
man  1  they  answered  and  said.  If  he  were  not  a 
malefactor,  we  would  not  have  delivered  him  up 
mito  thee."  Then  said  Pilate  unto  them,  "  Take 
ye  him,  and  judge  him  according  to  your  law."* 
But  this  would  not  serve  their  turn,  who  aimed  at 
his  life,  and  would  be  satisfied  with  nothing  else. 
The  Jews,  therefore,  said  unto  him,  "  It  is  not 
lawful  for  us  to  put  any  man  to  death."  And  this 
was  also,  "that  the  saying  of  Jesus  might  be  ful- 
filled which  he  spake,  signifying  what  death  he 
should  die."  Pursuing,  therefore,  tlieir  design,  of 
making  him  appear  to  Pontius  Pilate  gudty  of  trea- 
son against  Cfesar,  "  they  began  to  accuse  him, 
saying,  "  We  found  this  fellow  perverting  the  na- 
tion, and  forbidding  to  give  tribute  to  Csesar  ; 
saying,  that  he  himself  is  the  Messiah,  the  king  :" 
all  which  were  inferences  of  theirs  from  his  say- 
ing, he  was  the  "  Son  of  God ;"  which  Pontius 
Pilate  fhiding,  (for  it  is  consonant  that  he  examin- 
ed them  to  the  precise  words  he  liad  said,)  their 
accusation  had  no  weight  with  him.  However, 
the  name  of  king  being  suggested  against  Jesus, 
he  thought  himself  concerned  to  search  it  to  the 
bottom.  "Then  Pdate  entered  again  into  the 
judgment-hall,  and  called  Jesus,  and  said  unto 
liim.  Art  thou  the  king  of  the  Jews  .'  Jesus  an- 
swered him,  Sayest  thou  this  of  thyself,  or  did 
others  tell  it  thee  of  me  ?  Pilate  answered,  am  I 
a  Jew  ?  Thine  own  nation  and  the  chief  priests 
have  delivered  thee  unto  me :  what  hast  thou 
done  ?  Jesus  answered.  My  kingdom  is  not  of 
this  world  :  if  my  kingdom  were  of  this  world 
then  would  my  servants  fight,  that  I  should  not 
be  delivered  to  the  Jews  1  But  my  kingdom  is 
not  from  hence.  Pdate,  thorefcjre,  said  unto  him. 
Art  thou  a  king  then  ?  Jesus  answered.  Thou 
sayest  that  I  am  a  Icing  :  for  this  end  was  I  born, 
and  for  this  cause  came  I  into  the  world,  that  I 
shoidd  bear  witness  to  the  truth  :  every  one  that 
is  of  the  truth  heareth  my  voice." 

107.  In  this  dialogue  between  our  Saviour  and 
Pilate  we  may  observe,  1.  That  being  asked,  whe- 
ther he  were  the  king  of  the  Jews,  he  answers 
so,  that  though  he  deny  it  not,  yet  he  avoided 
giving  the  least  umbrage,  that  he  had  any  design 
upon  the  government ;  for,  though  he  allows  him- 
self to  be  a  kuig,  yet,  to  obviate  any  suspicion,  he 


John  xviii. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


41 


tells  Pilate,  "  his  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world  ;" 
and  evidences  it  by  this,  that  if  he  had  pretended 
to  any  title  to  that  country,  his  followers,  which 
were  not  a  few,  and  were  forward  enough  to  be- 
lieve him  then-  king,  would  have  fought  for  liim, 
if  he  had  had  a  miiid  to  set  himself  up  by  force, 
or  his  kingdom  were  so  to  be  erected.  "  But  my 
kingdom,"  says  he,  "  is  not  from  hence  ;"  is  not 
of  this  fashion,  or  of  this  place.  2.  Pilate,  being 
by  his  words  and  circumstances  satisfied  that  he 
laid  no  claim  to  his  province,  or  meant  any  dis- 
turbance of  the  government,  was  yet  a  little  sur- 
prised to  hear  a  man,  in  that  poor  garb,  without 
retinue,  or  so  much  as  a  servant  or  a  friend,  own 
Jiimself  to  bo  a  king ;  and  therefore  asks  him,  with 
some  kind  of  wonder,  "Art  thou  a  king,  tlien?" 
3.  Tliat  our  Saviour  declares,  that  his  great  busi- 
ness into  the  world  was,  to  testify  and  make  good 
this  great  truth,  that  he  was  a  king  ;  that  is,  in 
other  words,  that  he  was  the  Messiah.  4.  That 
whoever  were  followers  of  the  truth,  and  got  into 
the  way  of  truth  and  happiness,  received  this 
doctrine  concerning  him,  viz.  that  he  was  Messiah, 
their  king. 

108.  Pilate  being  thus  satisfied  that  he  neither 
meant,  nor  could  there  arise  any  harm  from  his 
pretence,  whatever  it  was,  to  be  a  king,  tells  the 
Jews,  "  I  find  no  fault  m  this  man  :"  but  the  Jews 
were  the  more  fierce,  saying,  "  He  stirreth  up  the 
people  to  sedition,  by  his  preaching  through  all 
Jewry,  beginning  from  GaUlee  to  this  place  :"  and 
then  Pilate,  learning  that  he  was  of  Galilee,  He- 
rod's jurisdiction,  sent  him  to  Herod ;  to  whom 
also  "  the  chief  priests  and  Scribes  vehemently 
accused  him."  Herod  finding  all  their  accusations 
either  false  or  frivolous,  thought  our  Saviour  a 
bare  object  of  contempt ;  and  so  turning  him  only 
into  ridicule,  sent  him  back  to  Pilate  ;  who  calling 
unto  him  the  chief  priests,  and  the  rulers,  and  the 
people,  said  unto  them,  "  Ye  have  brought  this 
man  unto  me  as  one  that  perverteth  the  people  ; 
and  behold,  I  have  e.xamined  him  before  you,  have 
found  no  fault  in  this  man,  touchincr  these  things 
whereof  ye  accuse  him  ;  no,  nor  yet  Herod ;  for  I 
sent  you  to  him  ;  and  so  nothing  worthy  of  death 
is  done  by  him  :"  and  therefore  he  would  have  re- 
leased him  ;  "  for  he  knew  the  chief  priests  had 
dehvered  him  through  envy."  And  when  they 
demanded  Barabbas  to  be  released ;  but  as  for 
Jesus,  cried,  Crucify  him,  "  Pilate  said  unto  them 
the  third  time,  Why  1  What  evil  hatii  he  done  ? 
I  have  found  no  cause  of  death  in  him :  I  will 
therefore  chastise  him,  and  let  him  go." 

109.  We  may  observe  in  all  this  whole  prosecu- 
tion of  the  Jews,  tiiat  they  would  fain  have  got  it 
out  of  Jesus's  own  mouth,  in  express  words,  that 
he  was  the  Messiah  ;  which  not  being  able  to  do 
with  all  their  art  and  endeavor,  all  the  rest  that 
they  could  allege  against  him  not  amounting  to  a 
proof  before  Pilate,  that  he  claimed  to  be  king  of 
the  .lews,  or  that  he  had  caused  or  done  any  thing 
towards  a  mutiny  or  insurrection  among  the  peo- 
ple, (for  upon  these  two,  as  we  see,  their  whole 
charge  turned,)  Pilate  again  and  again  pro- 
iioYinced  him  innocent ;  for  so  he  did  a  fourth  and 
a  fifth  time,  bringing  him  out  to  them  after  he  had 
whipped  him.  And  after  all,  "  When  Pilate  saw 
that  he  could  prevail  nothmg,  but  that  rather  a 
tumult  was  made,  he  took  water,  and  washed  his 


hands  before  the  multitude,  saying,  I  am  innocent 
of  the  blood  of  this  just  man  ;  see  you  to  it." — 
Which  gives  us  a  clear  reason  of  the  cautious  and  ' 
wary  conduct  of  our  Saviour,  in  not  declaring 
himself,  in  the  whole  course  of  his  ministry,  so 
much  as  to  his  disciples,  much  less  to  the  multi- 
tude or  the  rulers  of  the  Jews,  in  exjiress  words, 
to  be  the  Messiah,  the  king  ;  and  why  he  kept 
himself  always  in  prophetical  or  parabolical  terms, 
(he  and  his  disciples  preaching  only  the  kingdom 
of  God,  that  is,  of  the  Messiah,  to  be  come,)  and 
left  to  his  miracles  to  declare  who  he  was  ;  though 
this  was  the  truth  which  he  came  into  the  world, 
as  he  says  himself,  to  testify,  and  which  his  dis- 
ciples were  to  believe. 

110.  When  Pilate,  satisfied  of  his  innocence, 
would  have  released  him  ;  and  the  Jews  persisted 
to  cry  out,  "Crucify  him,  crucify  him,  Pilate  says 
to  them,  take  ye  him  yourselves,  and  crucify  him  ; 
for  I  do  not  find  any  fault  in  him."  The  Jewa 
then,  since  they  could  not  make  him  a  state- 
criminal,  by  alleging  his  saying  that  he  was  the 
Son  of  God  ;  say,  by  their  law,  it  was  a  capital 
crime.  The  Jews  answered  to  Pilate,  "  We  have 
a  law,  and  by  our  law  he  ought  to  die,  because  he 
made  himself  the  Son  of  God  ;"  that  is,  because, 
by  saying  he  is  the  Son  of  God,  he  has  made  him- 
self the  Messiah,  the  prophet  wliich  w;is  to  come  : 
for  we  find  no  other  law  but  that  against  false 
prophets,  Deut.  xviii.  20,  whereby  "  making  him- 
self the  Son  of  God"  deserved  death.  After  this 
PUate  was  the  more  desirous  to  release  him,  "  But 
the  Jews  cried  out,  saying,  If  thou  let  tliis  man 
go,  thou  art  not  Caesar's  friend  ;  whosoever  niak- 
eth  himself  a  king,  speaketh  agamst  Caesar." — 
Here  we  see  the  stress  of  their  charge  against 
Jesus,  whereby  they  hoped  to  take  away  his  life, 
viz.  that  he  "made  himself  king."  We  see  also 
upon  what  they  grounded  this  accusation,  viz., 
because  he  had  owned  himself  to  be  "  the  Son  of 
God :"  for  he  had,  in  then-  hearing,  never  made 
or  professed  himself  to  be  a  king.  We  see  here 
likewise  the  reason  why  they  were  so  desirous  to 
draw,  from  his  own  mouth,  a  confession,  in  express 
words,  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  viz.,  that  they 
might  have  what  might  be  a  clear  proof  that  he 
did^'so.  And  last  of  all,  we  see  the  reason  why, 
though  in  expressions  which  they  understood,  he 
owned  himself  to  them  to  be  the  ¥^- ^siah,  yet  he 
avoided  declaring  it  to  them  in  such  words  as  might 
look  criminal  at  Pilate's  tribunal.  He  owned  him- 
self to  be  the  Messiah  plainly  to  the  understaiuhng 
of  the  Jews  ;  but  in  ways  that  could  not,  to  the 
understanding  of  Pilate,  make  it  appear  that  he 
had  laid  claim  to  the  kingdom  of  Juiiea,  or  went 
about  to  make  Jiimsclf  kmg  of  that  cauntry.  ^  But 
whether  his  saying  that  he  was  "  the  Son  of  God," 
was  criminal  by  their  law,  that  Pilate  troubled 
not  himself  about. 

111.  He  that  considers  what  Tacitus,  Suetomus, 
Seneca,  de  Benof.  lib.  iii.  c.  26,  say  of  Tiberius 
and  his  reign,  will  find  how  necessary  it  was  for 
our  Saviour^  if  he  would  not  die  as  a  criminal  and 
a  traitor,  to  take  great  heed  to  his  words  and  ac- 
tions, that  he  did  or  said  not  any  thing  tliat  mitrht 
be  offensive,  or  give  the  least  umbrage  to  tJie  Bo- 
man  government.  It  behoved  an  innocent  man, 
who  was  taken  notice  of  for  something  extraordi- 
nary in  him,  to  be  verv  wary,  under  a  jealous  and 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


cruel  prince,  who  encouraged  informations,  and 
filled  his  reign  with  executions  for  treason  ;  under 
wliom  words  spoken  innocently,  or  in  jest,  if  they 
could  be  misconstrued,  were  made  treason,  and 
prosecuted  with  a  rigor  that  made  it  always  the 
same  thing  to  be  accused  and  condemned.  And 
therefore  we  see,  that  when  the  Jews  told  Pilate, 
that  he  should  not  be  a  friend  to  Csesar  if  he  let 
Jesus  go,  (for  that  whoever  made  himself  king, 
was  a  rebel  against  Csesar,)  he  asks  them  no  more 
whether  they  would  take  Barabbas,  and  spare  Je- 
sus, but  (though  against  his  conscience)  gives  liim 
up  to  death,  to  secure  his  own  head. 

112.  One  thing  more  there  is,  that  gives  us  light 
into  this  wise*  and  necessarily  cautious  manage- 
ment of  himself,  which  manifestly  agrees  with  it, 
and  makes  a  part  of  it ;  and  that  is,  the  choice  of 
his  apostles,  exactly  suited  to  the  design  and  fore- 
sight of  the  necessity  of  keeping  the  declaration  of 
the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah,  which  was  now  ex- 
pected, within  certain  general  terms  during  his 
ministry  :  it  was  not  fit  to  open  himself  too  plainly 
or  forwardly  to  the  heady  Jews,  that  he  himself 
was  the  Messiah  ;  that  was  to  be  left  to  be  found 
out  by  the  observation  of  those  who  would  attend 
to  the  purity  of  liis  life,  the  testimony  of  his  mira- 
cles, and  the  conformity  of  all  with  the  predictions 
concerning  him  ;  by  these  marks,  those  he  lived 
amongst  were  to  find  it  out,  without  an  express 
promulgation  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  till  after 
his  death  :  His  kingdom  was  to  be  opened  to  them 
by  degrees,  as  well  to  prepare  them  to  receive  it, 
as  to  enable  him  to  be  long  enough  amongst  them, 
to  perform  what  was  the  work  of  the  Messiah  to 
be  done,  and  fulfil  aU  those  several  parts  of  what 
was  foretold  of  him  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  we 
see  appHed  to  him  in  the  New. 

113.  The  Jews  had  no  other  thoughts  of  their 
Messiah,  but  of  a  mighty  temporal  prince,  that 
should  raise  their  nation  into  a  higher  degree  of 
power,  dominion,  and  prosperity  than  ever  it  had 
enjoyed.  They  were  filled  with  the  expectation 
of  a  glorious  earthly  kingdom.  It  was  not  there- 
fore for  a  poor  man,  the  son  of  a  carpenter,  and 
(as  they  thought)  born  in  Galilee,  to  pretend  to  it. 
None  of  the  Jews,  no  not  his  disciples,  could  have 
borne  this,  if  he  had  expressly  avowed  this  at  first, 
and  began  his  preaching,  and  the  opening  of  his 
kingdom  this  way  ;  especially  if  he  had  added  to  it, 
that  in  a  year  or  two  he  should  die  an  ignominious 
death  upon  the  cross.  Tliey  are  therefore  pre- 
pared for  the  truth  by  degrees.  First,  John  the 
Baptist  tells  them,  "  The  kingdom  of  God  (a  name 
by  which  the  Jews  called  the  kingdom  of  the 
Messiah)  is  at  hand."     Then  our  Saviour  comes, 


*  On  questions  of  this  kind  there  is  always  some 
inconsislency  in  the  language  of  the  best  of  men. 
Considering  Christ  to  be  the  Messiah  it  is  exceed- 
ingly unnecessary,  to  say  no  more  of  it,  to  speak  of 
the  wisdoTO  of  his  conduct ;  for,  who  can  doubt  it "? 
To  be  the  Christ,  the  Sent,  the  Anointed  of  God, 
implies  wisdom,  and  goodness,  and  every  excellent 
attribute ;  and  we  seem  as  if  desirous  to  prove  to 
ourselves  that  he  was  the  Christ,  wh-en  we  praise 
him  as  we  would  a  Socrates,  a  Plato,  or  a  Milton. 
There  is  a  want  of  wisdom  in  attempting  to  assign 
the  lohy  and  the  inhere/ore  in  speaking  of  divine 
things.  Whatever  God  does,  we  may,  for  that  very 
reason,  be  satisfied  is  wisest  and  best;  but  why  it 
should  be  so,  we  neither  know  nor  can  know. — Ed. 


and  he  tells  them  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  some- 
times that  it  is  at  hand,  and  upon  some  occasions, 
that  it  is  come  ;  but  says,  in  his  public  preaching, 
little  or  nothing  of  himself.  Then  come  the 
apostles  and  evangelists  after  his  death,  and  they 
in  express  words  teach  what  his  birth,  life,  and 
doctrine  had  done  before,  and  had  prepared  the 
well-disposed  to  receive  ;  viz.  that  Jesus  is  the 
Messiah. 

114.  To  this  design  and  method  of  publishing 
the  gospel,  was  the  choice  of  the  apostles  exactly 
adjusted  ;  a  company  of  poor,  ignorant,  illiterate 
men,  who,  as  Christ  himself  tells  us,  were  not  of 
the  wise  and  prudent  men  of  the  world  ;  they  were 
ui  that  respect  but  mere  children.  These,  con- 
vinced by  the  miracles  they  saw  him  daily  do,  and 
the  unblamable  Ufe  he  led,  might  be  disposed  to 
believe  him  to  be  the  Messiah  ;  and  though  they 
with  others  expected  a  temporal  kingdom  on  earth, 
might  yet  rest  satisfied  in  the  truth  of  their  master 
(who  had  honored  them  with  being  near  his  per- 
son) that  it  would  come,  without  being  too  inqui- 
sitive after  the  time,  manner,  or  seat  of  his  king- 
dom ;  as  men  of  letters,*  more  studied  in  their 
rabbins,  or  men  of  business,  more  versed  in  the 
world,  would  have  been  forward  to  have  been. — 
Men  great  or  wise  in  knowledge  or  ways  of  the 
world,  would  hardly  have  been  kept  from  prying 
more  narrowly  mto  his  design  and  conduct,  or 
from  questioning  him  about  the  ways  and  mea- 
sures he  would  take  for  ascending  the  throne ; 
and  what  means  were  to  be  used  towards  it,  and 
when  they  should  in  earnest  set  about  it.  Abler 
men,  of  higher  births  or  thoughts,]-  would  hardly 
have  been  hindered  from  whispering,  at  least  to 
their  iriends  and  relations,  that  their  Master  was 
the  Messiah  ;  and  that  though  he  concealed  him- 
self to  a  fit  opportunity,  and  till  things  were  ripe 
for  it,  yet  they  should  ere  long  see  him  break  out 


*  Had  God  disposed  things  differently,  and  made 
choice  of  men  of  letters,  I  hope  our  piety  would  have 
taught  us  tufficient  meekness  to  discover  equal  wis- 
dom in  the  selection.  For  what,  after  ail,  is  the 
knowledge  of  the  most  profound  philosopher,  when 
he  comes  to  consider  the  counsels  and  actions  of  the 
Almighty?  In  these  attempts  to  explain  the  mo- 
tives of  our  Saviour,  further  than  they  appear  in 
Scripture, — which,  however,  is  common  to  Locke 
with  the  most  distinguished  divines, — I  discover  a 
want  of  that  humility  which  should  be  the  guiding 
spirit  in  all  religious  investigations. — Ed. 

t  This  appears  but  very  poor  reasoning  to  me. 
Men  of  high  thoughts,  which  not  always  accompany 
high  birth,  would  doubtless  have  learned  of  their 
Divine  Master  the  necessity  of  obedience.  If  low 
thoughts  mean,  as  I  suppose  they  do,  confused,  ob- 
scure, and  incorrect  thoughts,  "  high  thoughts" 
must  be  such  as  approach  nearer  to  truth  and  virtue; 
and  the  possessor  of  such  thoughts  would  be  so  much 
the  further  from  any  unwise  action.  But  the  truth 
appears  to  be,  that  our  Saviour  chose  his  apostles 
because  their  thoughts  were  high  ;  that  is,  pure,  and 
nearer  heaven,  than  those  occupying  the  heads  of 
ordinary  men  of  business,  or  even  of  statesmen. — 
Like  the  patriarch  of  old,  they  were,  perhaps,  ac- 
customed to  meditate  in  the  fields  at  even-tide  ;  and 
He  who  searches  all  hearts  knew  to  what  heights 
their  contemplations  soared.  Poor  they  were — but 
the  absence  of  gold  and  silver  makes  a  man  neither 
high  nor  low ;  but  the  thoughts  upon  which  his  soul 
habitually  feeds. — Ed. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY 


of  his  obscurity,  cast  off  the  cloud,  and  declare 
himself,  as  he  was,  king  of  Israel.  But  the  igno- 
rance and  lowness  of  these  poor  men  made  them 
of  another  temper.  They  went  along  in  an  im- 
plicit trust  on  him,  punctually  keeping  to  his  com- 
mands, and  not  exceeding  his  commission.  When 
he  sent  them  to  preach  the  gospel,  he  bid  them 
preach  the  "  kingdom  of  God"  to  be  at  hand  ; 
and  that  they  did,  without  bemg  more  particular 
than  he  had  ordered,  or  mixing  their  own  prudence 
with  his  commands,  to  promote  the  kingdom  of  the 
Messiah.  They  preached  it  without  giving  out, 
or  so  much  as  intimating  that  their  master  was 
he  ;  which  men  of  another  condition,  and  an  higher 
education,  would  scarce  have  forborne  to  ha-e 
done.  When  he  asked  them  who  they  thought 
him  to  be,  and  Peter  answered,  "  The  Messiah, 
the  Son  of  God,"  he  plainly  shows,  by  the  follow- 
ing words,  that  he  himself  had  not  told  them  so  ; 
and  at  the  same  time,  forbids  them  to  tell  this 
their  opinion  of  him  to  any  body.  How  obedient 
tiiey  were  to  him  in  this,  we  may  not  only  con- 
clude from  the  siience  of  the  evangehsts  concern- 
ing any  such  thing  pubhshed  by  them  any  where 
before  his  death,  but  from  the  exact  obedience 
three  of  them  paid  to  a  like  command  of  his.  He 
takes  Peter,  James,  and  John  into  a  mountain, 
and  there  Moses  and  Elias  coming  to  him,  he  is 
transfigured  before  them  :  he  charges  them,  say- 
ing, "  See  that  ye  tell  no  man  what  ye  have  seen, 
till  the  Son  of  man  shall  be  risen  from  the  dead." 
And  St.  Luke  tells  us,  what  punctual  observers 
they  were  of  his  orders  in  this  case  :  "  They  kept 
it  close,  and  told  no  man,  in  those  days,  any  of 
those  things  which  they  had  seen."* 

115.  Wiiether  twelve  other  men,  of  quicker 
parts,  and  of  a  station  or  breeding  which  might 
have  given  them  any  opinion  of  themselves  or  their 
own  abihties,  would  have  been  so  easily  kept  from 
meddling  beyond  just  what  was  prescribed  them, 
in  a  matter  they  had  so  much  interest  in ;  and  have 
said  nothing  of  what  they  might  in  human  pru- 
dence have  thought  would  have  contributed  to 
their  master's  reputation,  and  made  way  for  liis 
advancement  to  his  kingdom,  I  leave  to  be  consi- 
dered. And  it  may  suggest  matter  of  meditation, 
whether  St.  Paul  was  not,  for  this  reason,  by  his 
learning,  parts,  and  warmer  temper,  better  fitted 
for  an  apostle  after,  than  during  our  Saviour's 
ministry  ;  and  therefore,  tliough  a  chosen  vessel, 
was  not  by  the  divine  wisdom  called  till  after 
Christ's  resurrection.  I  offer  this  only  as  a  subject 
of  magnifying  the  admirable  contrivance  of  the 
divine  wisdom,  in  the  whole  work  of  our  redemp- 
tion, as  far  as  we  are  able  to  trace  it  by  the  foot- 
steps which  God  hath  made  visible  to  human  rea- 
son. For  though  it  be  as  easy  to  omnipotent 
Power  to  do  all  things  by  an  immediate  overruling 
will,  and  so  to  make  any  instruments  work,  even 
contrary  to  their  natures,  m  subserviency  to  his 
ends  ;  yet  his  wisdom  is  not  usually  at  the  expense 
of  miracles,  (if  I  may  so  say,)  but  only  in  cases 
that  require  them,  for  the  evidencing  of  some  re- 
relation  or  mission  to  be  from  him.  He  does  con- 
stantly (unless  where  the  confirmation  of  some 
truth  requires  it  otherwise)  bring  about  his  pur- 
poses by  means  operating  according  to  their  na- 

*  Luke  ix.  36. 


tures.  If  It  were  not  so,  the  course  and  evidence 
of  thmgs  would  be  confounded  ;  miracles  would 
lose  their  name  and  force,  and  there  could  be  no 
distinction  between  natural  and  supernatural. 

116.  There  had  been  no  room  left  to  see  and  ad- 
mu-e  the  wisdom,  as  well  as  innocence,  of  our  Sa- 
viour, if  he  had  raslily  every  where  exposed  him- 
self to  the  fury  of  the  Jews,  and  had  always  been 
preserved  by  a  miraculous  sut^pension  of  their  ma- 
hce,  or  a  miraculous  rescuing  him  out  of  their 
hands.  It  was  enough  for  him  once  to  escape  from 
the  men  of  Nazareth,  who  were  going  to  throw 
him  down  a  precipice,  for  him  never  to  preach  to 
them  again.  Our  Saviour  had  multitudes  that  fol- 
lowed  him  for  the  loaves,  who  barely  seeing  tlio 
miracles  that  he  did,  would  have  made  him  kint^. 
If  to  the  miracles  he  did,  he  had  openly  added,  m 
express  words,  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  and  the 
king  they  expected  to  deliver  them,  he  would  have 
had  more  followers,  and  warmer  in  the  cause,  and 
readier  to  set  him  up  at  the  head  of  a  tumult. 
These,  indeed,  God,  by  a  miraculous  influence, 
might  have  hindered  fi-om  any  such  attempt ;  but 
then  posterity  could  not  have  believed  that  the  na- 
tion of  the  Jews  did  at  that  time  expoct  the  Mes- 
siah, their  king  and  deliverer,  or  that  Jesus,  who 
declared  himself  to  be  tjiat  king  deliverer,  showed 
any  miracles  amongst  them,  to  convince  them  of 
it ;  or  did  any  thing  worthy  to  make  him  be  credit- 
ed or  received.  If  he  had  gone  about  preaching 
to  the  multitude  which  he  drew  after  him,  that  he 
was  the  "INIessiah,  the  king  of  Israel,''  and  this 
had  been  evidenced  to  Pilate,  God  could  indeed,  by 
a  supernatural  influence  upon  his  mind,  have  made 
Pilate  pronounce  him  innocent,  and  not  condemn 
him  as  a  malefactor,  who  had  openly,  for  three 
years  together,  preached  sedition  to  the  people, 
and  endeavored  to  persuade  them  that  he  was 
the  "  Messiah,  their  king,"  of  the  blood  royal  of 
David  come  to  deliver  them.  But  then  I  ask, 
whether  posterity  would  not  either  have  suspect- 
ed the  story,  or  that  some  art  liad  been  used  to 
gain  that  testimony  from  Pilate  ?  Because  he  could 
not  (for  nothing)  have  been  so  favorable  to  Jesus, 
as  to  be  willing  to  release  so  turbulent  and  sedi- 
tious a  man,  to  declare  him  innocent,  and  to  cast 
the  blame  and  guilt  of  his  death,  as  unjust,  upon 
the  envy  of  the  Jews. 

117.  But  now  the  malice  of  the  chief  priests. 
Scribes,  and  Pharisees ;  theheadiness  of  the  mob, 
animated  with  hopes,  and  raised  witli  miracles  : 
Judas's  treachery,  and  Pilate's  care  of  his  govern- 
ment, and  of  the  peace  of  his  province,  all  work- 
ing naturally  as  they  should ;  Jesus,  by  the  admir- 
able wariness  of  his  carriage,  and  an  extraordi- 
nary wisdom  visible  in  his  whole  conduct,  weathers 
all  these  difficulties,  does  the  work  he  comes  for, 
uninterru[)tedly  goes  about  preaching  his  full  ap- 
pointed time,  sufficiently  manifests  himself  to  be 
the  Messiah  in  all  tlie  particulars  the  Scriptures 
had  foretold  of  him  ;  and  when  liis  liour  is  come, 
sutlers  death  ;  but  is  acknowledged,  both  by  Judas 
that  betrayed  and  Pilate  that  condemned  him,  to 
die  innocerit.  For,  to  use  his  own  v/ord?,  "  Thus 
it  is  written,  and  thus  it  behoved  the  Mcssiaii  to 
suffer."  And  of  his  whole  conduct  we  have  a  rea- 
son and  clear  resolution  in  those  words  to  St.  Peter, 
Matt.  xxvi.  "  Thinkest  thou  that  I  cannot  now 
pray  to  my  Father,  and  he  shall  presently  give  me 


44 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels  1  But  how 
then  shall  the  Scripture  he  fulfilled,  and  thus  it 
must  be  1" 

118.  Having  this  clue  to  guide  us,  let  us  now 
observe  how  our  Saviour's  preaching  and  conduct 
comported  with  it  in  the  last  scene  of  his  hfe.  How 
cautious  he  had  been  in  the  former  part  of  his  mi- 
nistr}',  we  have  already  observed.  We  never  find 
him  to  use  the  name  of  the  Messiah  but  once,  till 
he  nou'  came  to  Jerusalem,  this  last  passover.  Be- 
fore this,  his  preaching  and  miracles  were  less  at 
Jerusalem  (where  he  used  to  make  but  very  short 
stays)  than  any  where  else ;  but  now  he  comes  six 
days  before  the  feast,  and  is  every  day  in  the  tem- 
ple teaching  ;  and  there  publicly  heals  the  blind 
and  the  lame,  in  the  presence  of  the  Scribes, 
Pharisees,  and  chief  priests.  The  time  of  his  mi- 
nistry drawing  to  an  end,  and  his  hour  coming,  he 
cared  not  how  much  the  cliief  priests,  elders,  rulers, 
and  the  sanhedrim  wei-e  provoked  against  him  by 
liis  doctrine  and  miracles  ;  he  was  as  open  and 
bold  in  liis  prcdching,  and  doing  the  works  of  the 
Messiah  now,  at  Jerusalem,  and  in  the  sight  of  the 
rulers  and  of  all  the  people,  as  he  had  been  before 
cautious  and  reserved  there,  and  careful  to  be  little 
taken  notice  of  m  that  place,  and  not  to  come  in 
their  way  more  than  needs.  All  that  he  now  took 
care  of  was,  not  what  they  should  think  of  him,  or 
design  against  liim,  (for  he  knew  they  would  seize 
him,)  but  to  say  or  do  nothing  that  might  be  a  just 
matter  of  accusation  against  him,  or  render  him 
criminal  to  the  governor.  But  as  for  the  grandees 
of  the  Jewish  nation,  he  spares  them  not,  but 
sharply  now  reprehends  their  miscarriages  publicly 
in  the  temple,  where  he  calls  them,  more  than  once, 
hypocrites,  as  is  to  be  seen  Matt,  xxiii. ;  and  con- 
cludes all  with  no  softer  a  compellation  than  "ser- 
pents" and  "generation  of  vipers." 

119.  After  this  severe  reproof  of  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees,  being  retired  with  his  disciples  into 
the  Mount  of  Olives,  over  against  the  temple,  and 
there  foretelling  the  destruction  of  it,  his  disciples 
ask  him.  Matt.  xxiv.  "  When  it  should  be,  and 
what  should  be  the  signs  of  his  coming  1"  He  says 
to  them,  "  Take  heed  that  no  man  deceive  you  : 
for  many  shall  come  in  my  name ;"  that  is,  taking 
on  them  the  name  and  dignity  of  the  Messiah, 
which  is  only  mine ;  saying,  "I  am  the  Messiah, 
and  shall  deceive  many."  But  be  not  you  by  them 
misled,  nor  by  persecution  driven  away  from  this 
fundamental  truth — that  I  am  the  Messiah ;  "  for 
many  shall  be  scandalized,"  and  apostatize,  "but  he 
tlial  endures  to  the  end,  the  same  shall  be  saveil :" 
and  this  gospel  of  the  kingdom  shall  be  preached 
in  all  the  world  ;  that  is,  the  good  news  of  me,  the 
Messiaii,  and  my  kingdom,  shall  be  spread  through 
tiio  world.  This  was  the  great  and  only  point  of 
belief  they  were  warned  to  stick  to  ;  and  this  is  in- 
culcated again,  ver.  2:3—26,  and  Mark  xiii.  21—23, 
witii  this  eniphatical  application  to  them  in  both 
these  evangelists :  "  Behold,  I  have  told  you  before- 
Jiatid  ;"  remember  ye  are  forewarned. 

120.  This  was  in  his  answer  to  the  apostles'  in- 
quuy  concerning  his  «  coming,  and  the  end  of  the 
world  ;"  for  so  we  translate  rr,s  cf,vTcMasrS  aim'os ; 
we  must  understand  the  disciples  here  to  put  their 
question  according  to  the  notion  and  wav  of  speak- 
ing of  tiie  Jews.  For  they  had  two  worlds,  as  we 
translate  it,  &  vvv  aluiv  «,  a  /jtXXojv  aldv;  the  "  present 


world,"  and  the  "  world  to  come."  The  kingdom 
of  God,  as  they  called  it,  or  the  time  of  the  Mes- 
siah, they  called  u/^IAXuv  ..("liv,  » the  world  to  come," 
which  they  believed  was  to  put  an  end  to  "this 
world:"  and  that  then  the  just  should  be  raised 
from  the  dead  to  enjoy  in  that  new  world,  a  happy 
eternity  with  those  of  the  Jewish  nation  who  should 
be  then  living. 

121.  These  two  things,  viz.  the  visible  and  pow- 
erful appearance  of  his  kingdom,  and  the  end  of 
the  world,  being  confounded  in  the  apostles'  ques- 
tion, oiu-  Saviour  does  not  separate  them,  nor  dis- 
tinctly reply  to  them  apart ;  but  leaving  the  in- 
quirers in  the  common  opinion,  answers  at  once 
concerning  liis  coming  to  take  vengeance  of  the 
Jewish  nation,  and  put  an  end  to  their  church, 
worship,  and  commonwealth  ;  wliich  was  their 
0  vui'  atwv,  present  v.orld,which  they  counted  should 
last  till  the  Messiah  came  :  and  so  it  did,  and  then 
had  an  end  put  to  it.  And  to  this  he  joins  his  last 
coming  to  judgment,  in  the  glory  of  his  Father, 
to  put  a  final  end  to  this  world,  and  all  the  dis- 
pensation belonging  to  the  posterity  of  Adam 
upon  earth.  This  joining  them  together  made  his 
answer  obscure,  and  hard  to  be  understood  by 
them  then  ;  nor  was  it  safe  for  him  to  speak  plain- 
er of  his  kmgdom,  and  the  destruction  of  Jerusa- 
lem, unless  lie  had  a  mind  to  be  accused  for  hav- 
ing designs  against  the  government.  For  Judas 
was  amongst  them  ;  and  whether  no  other  but  his 
apostles  were  comprehended  under  the  name  of 
his  disciples,  who  were  with  liim  at  this  time,  one 
cannot  determine.  Our  Saviour  therefore  speaks 
of  his  kingdom  in  no  other  style  but  that  which  he 
had  all  along  hitherto  used,  viz.  "  The  kingdom  of 
God:" — "When  you  see  these  things  come  to 
pass,  know  ye  that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  nigh  at 
hand."  And  continuing  on  his  discourse  with 
them,  he  has  the  same  expression,  ]\Iatt.  xxv.  1 : 
"  Then  the  kingdom  of  heaven  shall  be  like  unto 
ten  virgins."  At  the  end  of  the  following  parable 
of  the  talents,  he  adds,  verse  31 :  "  When  the  Son 
of  man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and  all  the  holy 
angels  with  him,  then  shall  he  sit  upon  the  throne 
of  his  glory,  and  before  him  shall  be  gathered  all 
the  nations.  And  he  shall  set  the  sheep  on  his 
right  hand,  and  the  goats  on  his  left.  Then  shall 
the  King  say,"  &c.  Here  he  describes  to  his 
disciples  the  appearance  of  his  kingdom,  wherein 
he  will  show  himself  a  King  in  glory  upon  his 
throne ;  but  this  in  such  a  way,  and  so  remote, 
and  so  unintelligible  to  a  heathen  magistrate,  that 
if  it  had  been  alleged  against  him,  it  would  liave 
seemed  rather  the  dream  of  a  crazy  brain,  than 
the  contrivance  of  an  ambitious  or  dangerous 
man  designing  against  the  government :  the  way 
of  expressing  what  he  meant,  being  in  the  pro. 
phetic  style  ;  which  is  seldom  so  plain  as  to  be 
understood,  tdl  accomplished.  It  is  plain  that  his 
disciples  themselves  comprehended  not  what  king- 
dom he  here  spoke  of,  from  their  question  to  him 
after  his  resurrection,  "  Wilt  thou  at  this  time  re- 
store again  the  kingdom  of  Israel '?" 

122.  Having  finished  these  discourses,  he  takes 
order  for  the  passover,  and  eats  it  with  his  disci- 
ples ;  and  at  supper  tells  them,  that  one  of  them 
should  betray  him;  and  adds,  "I  tell  it  you  now, 
before  it  come,  that  when  it  is  come  to  pass,  you 
may  know  that  I  am."     He  does  not  say  out,  the 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


45 


Messiah :  Judas  should  not  have  that  to  say 
against  hira  if  he  would ;  though  that  be  the  sense 
in  which  he  uses  this  expression,  iyw  «'//(,  more 
than  once.  And  that  this  is  the  meaning  of  it  is 
clear  from  Mark  xii,  6;  Luke  xxi.  8;  in  both 
which  evangehsts  the  words  are,  "  For  many  shall 
come  in  my  name,  saying,"  lyd  dm,  "I  am:"  the 
meaning  whereof  we  shall  find  explained  in  the 
parallel  place  of  St.  Matthew,  chapter  xxiv.  5, — 
"  For  many  shall  come  in  my  name,  saying,"  iyii 
ilfuh  Xpi^oi,  "I  am  the  Messiah."  Here  in  this 
place  of  John  xiii.  Jesus  foretells  what  should 
happen  to  him  ;  viz.  that  he  should  be  betrayed 
by  Judas :  adding  this  prediction  to  the  many 
other  particulars  of  his  death  and  suffering,  which 
lie  had  at  other  times  foretold  to  them.  And  here 
he  tells  them  the  reason  of  these  his  predictions, 
viz.  that  afterwards  they  might  be  a  confirmation 
to  their  faith.  And  what  was  it  that  he  would 
have  them  believe,  and  be  confirmed  in  the  belief 
of !  Nothing  but  this,  on  cyd  d/ii,  that  he  was  the 
Messiah.  The  same  reason  he  gives,  John  xiii. 
28  :  "  You  have  heard,  how  I  said  unto  you,  I  go 
away,  and  come  again  unto  you  :  and  now  I  have 
told  you  before  it  come  to  pass,  that  when  it  is 
come  to  pass,  ye  might  believe." 

123.  When  Judas  had  left  them,  and  was  gone 
out  he  talks  a  little  freer  to  them  of  his  glory  and 
of  his  kingdom,  than  ever  he  had  done  before. — 
For  now  he  speaks  plainly  of  himself,  and  of  his 
kingdom,  John  xiii.  "  Therefore,  when  he  (Judas) 
was  gone  out,  Jesus  said.  Now  is  the  Son  of  man 
glorified,  and  God  is  also  glorified  in  him.  And  if 
God  be  glorified  in  him,  God  shall  also  glorify  him 
in  himself,  and  shall  straightway  glorify  him." — 
And  Luke  xxii.  "  And  I  will  appoint  unto  you  a 
kingdom,  as  my  Father  hath  appointed  unto  me  ; 
that  ye  may  eat  and  drink  with  me  at  my  table  in 
my  kingdom."  Though  he  has  every  where  all 
along  through  his  ministry  preached  the  "gospel 
of  the  kingdom,"  and  nothing  else  but  that  and 
repentance,  and  the  duties  of  a  good  life  ;  yet  it 
has  been  always  "  the  kingdom  of  God,"  and  "the 
kingdom  of  heaven  :"  and  I  do  not  remember  that 
any  where,  till  now,  he  uses  any  such  expression, 
as  my  kingdom.  But  here  now  he  speaks  in  the 
first  person,  "  I  will  appoint  you  a  kingdom;"  and 
"  in  my  kingdom  ;"  and  this  we  see  is  only  to  the 
eleven,  now  Judas  was  gone  from  them. 

124.  With  these  eleven,  whom  he  was  now  just 
leaving,  he  has  a  long  discourse  to  comfort  theni 
for  their  loss  of  him,  and  to  prepare  them  for  the 
persecution  of  the  world,  and  to  exhort  them  to 
keep  his  commandments,  and  to  love  one  another. 
And  here  one  may  expect  all  the  articles  of  faith 
should  be  laid  down  plainly,  if  any  thing  else  were 
required  of  them  to  believe,  but  what  he  had 
taught  them,  and  they  believed  already ;  viz. — 
"  That  he  was  the  Messiah,"  John  xiv.  1.  "Ye 
believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  me,"  verse  29.  "  I 
have  told  you  before  it  come  to  pass,  that  when  it 
is  come  to  pass  ye  may  believe."  It  is  believing 
on  him,  without  any  thing  else,  Jolm  xvi.  31 : — 
"Jesus  answered  them, — Do  you  now  believe  ?" 
This  was  in  answer  to  their  professing,  verse  30, 
"  Now  are  we  sure  that  thou  knowest  all  things, 
and  needest  not  that  any  man  should  ask  thee  : 
by  this  we  believe  that  thou  comcst  forth  from 
God."    John  xvii.  20 :  "  Neither  pray  I  for  these 

IT  ^8) 


alone,  but  for  them  also  which  shall  believe  on  me 
through  their  word."  All  that  is  spoke  of  "  be- 
lieving," m  this  his  last  sermon  to  them,  is  only 
"  believing  on  him,"  or  believing  that  "  he  came 
from  God ;"  which  was  no  other  than  believing 
him  to  be  the  Messiali. 

125.  Indeed,  John  xiv.,  our  Saviour  tells  Phihp, 
"He  that  hath  seen  me,  hath  seen  the  Father;" 
and  adds, — "Believest  thou  not  that  I  am  in  the 
Father,  and  the  Father  in  me  !  The  words  that 
I  speak  unto  you,  I  speak  not  of  myself;  but  the 
Father  that  dwelleth  in  me,  he  doth  the  works." 
Which  being  in  answer  to  Philip's  words,  verse  9, 
"Show  us  the  Father,"  seem  to  import  thus  much 
— "  No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time,"  he  is 
known  only  by  his  works.  And  that  he  is  my 
Father,  and  I  the  Son  of  God, — that  is,  tlie  Mes. 
siah, — you  may  know  by  the  works  I  have  done  ; 
which  it  is  impossible  I  could  do  of  myself,  but  by 
the  union  I  have  with  God  my  Father.  For  that 
by  being  "in  God"  and  "  God  in  him,"  he  signifies 
such  an  union  with  God,  that  God  operates  in 
him,  and  by  him,  appears  not  only  by  the  words 
above  cited,  out  of  verse  10 :  (which  can  scarce 
otherwise  be  made  coherent  sense,)  but  also  from 
the  same  phrase  used  again  by  our  Saviour  pre- 
sently after,  verse  20  :  "  At  that  day,"  viz.  after 
his  resurrection,  when  they  should  see  him  again, 
"  ye  shall  know  that  I  am  in  my  Father,  and  you 
in  me,  and  I  in  you  ;"  that  is,  by  the  works  I  shall 
enable  you  to  do,  through  a  power  I  have  received 
from  the  Father:  which  whoever  sees  me  do, 
must  acknowledge  the  Father  to  be  in  me ;  and 
whoever  sees  you  do,  must  acknowledge  me  to  be 
in  you.  And  therefore  he  says,  verse  12,  "  Verily, 
verily  I  say  unto  you,  he  that  beUeveth  on  me,  the 
works  that  I  do  shall  he  also  do,  because  I  go  unto 
my  Father."  Though  I  go  away,  yet  I  shall  be 
in  you  who  believe  in  me  ;  and  ye  shall  be  enabled 
to  do  miracles  also  for  the  carrying  on  of  my  king- 
dom, as  I  have  done  ;  that  it  may  be  manifested 
to  others,  that  you  are  sent  by  me,  as  I  have  evi- 
denced to  you  that  I  am  sent  by  the  Father  ;  and 
hence  it  is  that  he  says,  in  the  immediate  preced- 
ing verse  11,  "  Beheve  me  that  I  am  in  the  Father 
and  the  Father  in  me  ;  if  not,  beheve  me  for  the 
sake  of  the  works  themselves."  Let  the  works 
that  I  have  done  convince  you  that  I  am  sent  by 
the  Father,  that  he  is  with  me,  and  that  I  do  no- 
thing but  by  his  will,  and  by  virtue  of  the  union  I 
have  with  him  ;  and  that,  consequently,  I  am  the 
Messiah,  who  am  anointed,  sanctified,  and  sepa- 
rated by  the  Father  to  the  work  for  which  he  hath 
sent  me. 

126.  To  confirm  them  in  this  faith,  and  to  en- 
able them  to  do  such  works  as  he  had  done,  he 
promises  them  the  Holy  Ghost,  John  xiv. :  "  These 
things  I  have  said  unto  you,  being  yet  present  with 
you  ;"  but  when  I  am  gone,  "  the  Holy  Ghost,  the 
Paraclete,"  (which  may  signify  monitor  as  well  as 
comforter,  or  advocate,)  "  wliich  the  Father  shall 
send  yju  in  my  name,  he  shall  show  you  all  things, 
and  bring  to  your  remembrance  all  things  which 
I  have  said."  So  that,  considering  all  that  I  have 
said,  and  laying  it  together,  and  comparing  it  with 
what  you  shall  see  come  to  pass,  you  may  be  more 
abundantly  assured  that  I  am  the  Messiah,  and 
fully  comprehend  that  I  have  done  and  suffered 
all  thinga  foretold  of  the  Meeeiah,  and  that  wore 


46 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


to  be  accomplished  and  fulfilled  by  him,  according 
to  the  Scriptures.  But  be  not  filled  with  grief  that 
I  leave  you :  "  It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go 
away,  for  if  I  go  not  away  the  Paraclete  will  not 
come  unto  you."  One  reason  why,  if  he  went  not 
away,  the  Holy  Ghost  could  not  come,  we  may 
gather  from  what  has  been  observed  concerning 
the  prudent  and  wary  carriage  of  our  Saviour  all 
through  his  ministry,  that  he  might  not  incur  death 
with  tjie  least  suspicion  of  a  malefactor ;  and  there- 
fore, though  his  disciples  believed  him  to  be  the 
Messiah,  yet  they  neither  understood  it  so  well, 
nor  were  so  well  confirmed  in  the  belief  of  it,  as 
after  that,  he  being  crucified  and  risen  again,  they 
had  received  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  with  the  gifts  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  a  fuller  and  clearer  evidence  and 
knowledge  that  he  was  the  Messiah.  They  then 
were  enlightened  to  see  how  his  kingdom  was  such 
as  the  Scriptures  foretold  ;  thougli  not  such  as 
they,  till  tlien,  had  expected.  And  now  this  know- 
ledge and  assurance  received  from  the  Holy  Ghost 
was  of  use  to  them  after  his  resurrection  ;  when 
they  could  now  boldly  go  about,  and  openly  preach, 
as  they  did,  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah,  confirm- 
ing that  doctrine  by  the  miracles  wliich  the  Holy 
Ghost  empowered  them  to  do  ;  but  till  he  was 
dead  and  gone,  they  could  not  do  this.  Their 
going  about  openly  preaching,  as  they  did  after 
his  resurrection,  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah,  and 
doing  miracles  every  wliere  to  make  it  good,  would 
not  have  consisted  with  that  character  of  humility, 
peace,  and  innocence,  which  the  Messiali  was  to 
sustain,  if  they  had  done  it  before  his  crucifixion  ; 
for  this  would  have  drawn  upon  him  tlie  condem- 
nation of  a  malefactor,  either  as  a  stirrer  of  sedition 
against  the  public  peace,  or  as  a  pretender  to  the 
kingdom  of  Israel.  And  hence  we  see,  that  they 
who  before  his  death  preached  only  "  the  gospel  of 
the  kingdom,"  that  "  the  kingdom  of  God  was  at 
hand  ;"  as  soon  as  they  had  received  the  Holy 
Ghost,  after  his  resurrection,  changed  their  style, 
and  every  where,  in  express  words,  declare,  that 
Jesus  is  the  Messiah,  that  king  whicli  was  to  come. 
This  the  following  words  here,  in  St.  John,  xvi. 
8 — 14,  confirm ;  where  he  goes  on  to  tell  them  : 
"  And  when  he  is  come,  he  will  convince  the  world 
of  sin,  because  they  beheved  not  on  me."  Your 
preaching,  then,  accompanied  with  miracles,  by 
the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  sliall  be  a  con- 
viction to  the  world  that  the  Jews  sinned  in  not 
believing  me  to  be  the  Messiah.  "  Of  righteous- 
ness," or  justice  :  "  Because  I  go  to  my  Father,  and 
ye  see  me  no  more."  By  the  same  preaching  and 
miracles  you  sliall  confirm  the  doctruie  of  my  as- 
cension ;  and  thereby  convince  the  world  that  I 
was  that  just  one,  who  am  therefore  ascended  to 
the  Father  into  heaven,  where  no  unjust  person 
shall  enter.  "Of  judgment:  because  the  prince 
of  this  world  is  judged  ;"  and  by  the  same  assist- 
ance of  the  Holy  Ghost,  ye  shall  convince  the 
world  that  the  devil  is  judged  or  condemned,  by 
your  casting  of  him  out,  and  destroying  his  king- 
dom, and  his  worship,  wherever  you  preach.  Our 
Saviour  adds,  "  I  have  yet  many  things  to  say  unto 
you,  but  you  cannot  bear  them  now."  They  were 
yet  so  full  of  a  temporal  kingdom,  that  they  could 
not  bear  the  discovery  of  what  kind  of  kingdom  his 
was,  nor  what  a  king  he  was  to  be ;  and  therefore 
he  leaves  them  to  the  coming  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 


for  a  further  and  fuller  discovery  of  himself,  anc! 
the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah,  for  fear  they  should 
be  scandalized  in  him,  and  give  up  the  hopes  they 
had  now  in  him,  and  forsake  him.  This  he  tells 
them,  verse  1,  of  this  sixteenth  chapter  :  "  These 
things  I  have  said  unto  you,  that  you  may  not  be 
scandalized."  The  last  thing  he  had  told  them 
before  his  saying  this  to  them,  we  find  in  the  last 
verses  of  the  precedent  chapter  :  *'  When  the  Pa- 
raclete is  come,  the  Spirit.of  truth,  he  shall  witness 
concerning  me."  He  shall  show  you  who  I  am, 
and  witness  it  to  the  world ;  and  then  "  ye  also 
shall  bear  witness,  because  ye  have  been  with  me 
from  the  beginning."  He  shall  call  to  your  mind 
what  I  have  said  and  done,  that  ye  may  under- 
stand it,  and  know,  and  bear  witness  concerning 
me.  And  again  here,  John  xvi.,  after  he  had  told 
them  they  could  not  bear  what  he  had  more  to 
say,  he  adds,  verse  13  :  "  Howbeit,  when  the  Spi- 
rit of  truth  is  come,  he  will  guide  you  into  all 
truth  ;  and  he  will  show  you  things  to  come  :  he 
shall  glorify  me."  By  the  Spirit,  when  he  comes, 
ye  shall  be  fully  instructed  concerning  me  ;  and 
though  ye  cannot  yet,  from  what  I  have  said 
to  you,  clearly  comprehend  my  kingdom  and 
glory,  yet  he  shall  make  it  known  to  you  wherein 
it  consists :  and  thougli  I  am  now  in  a  mean  state, 
and  ready  to  be  given  up  to  contempt,  torment, 
and  death,  so  that  ye  know  not  what  to  think  of 
it;  yet  the  Spirit,  when  he  comes,  "shall  glorify 
me,"  and  fully  satisfy  you  of  my  power  and  kmg, 
dom ;  and  that  I  sit  on  the  right  hand  of  God,  to 
order  all  things  for  the  good  and  increase  of  it, 
till  I  come  again  at  the  last  day  in  the  fulness  of 
glory. 

127.  Accordingly,  the  apostles  had  a  full  and 
clear  sight  and  persuasion  of  this,  after  they  had 
received  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  they  preached  it 
every  where  boldly  and  openly,  without  the  least 
remainder  of  doubt  or  uncertainty.  But  that  even 
so  late  as  this,  they  understood  not  his  death  and 
resurrection,  is  evident  from  verses  17, 18.  "  Then 
said  some  of  the  disciples  among  themselves.  What 
is  this  that  he  saith  unto  us  ;  a  little  while,  and  ye 
shall  not  see  me  ;  and  again,  a  little  while,  and  ye 
shall  see  me;  and  because  I  go  to  the  Father"? 
They  said  therefore.  What  is  this  that  he  saith,  a 
little  while?  We  know  not  what  he  saith."  Upon 
which,  he  goes  on  to  discourse  to  them  of  liis  death 
and  resurrection,  and  of  the  power  they  should 
have  of  doing  miracles.  But  all  this  he  declares  to 
them  in  a  mystical  and  involved  way  of  speaking  ; 
as  he  tells  them  himself,  verse  25  :  "  These  things 
have  I  spoken  to  you  in  proverbs  ;"  that  is,  in  ge- 
neral, obscure,  enigmatical,  or  figurative  terms, 
(All  which,  as  well  as  allusive  apologues,  the  Jews 
called  proverbs  or  parables.)  Hitherto  my  declar- 
ing of  myself  to  you  hath  been  obscure,  and  with 
reserve;  and  I  have  not  spolcen  of  myself  to  you 
in  plain  and  direct  word?:,  because  ye  could  not 
bear  it.  A  Messiah,  and  not  a  king,  you  could 
not  understand  ;  and  a  king  living  in  poverty  and 
persecution,  and  dying  the  death  of  a  slave  and 
malefactor  upon  a  cross,  you  could  not  put  toge- 
ther. And  had  I  told  you  in  plain  words,  that  I 
was  the  Meseiaii,  and  gi^en  you  a  direct  commis- 
sion to  preach  to  others,  that  I  professedly  o-vned 
myself  to  be  the  Messiah,  you  and  they  would  liave 
made  a  commotion,  to  have  set  me  upon  the  throne 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


47 


of  my  father  David,  and  to  fight  for  me  ;  that  your 
Messiah,  your  kin^,  in  whom  are  your  hopes  of  a 
kingdom,  shoukl  not  be  delivered  up  into  the 
hands  of  his  enemies,  to  be  put  to  death  ;  and  of 
this,  Peter  will  instantly  give  you  a  proof.  But 
"  the  time  cometh  when  I  shall  no  more  speak  unto 
you  inparaMes  ;  but  I  shall  show  unto  you  plamly 
of  the  Fathe-."  My  death  and  resurrection,  and 
the  coming  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  will  speedily  en- 
lighten you,  and  then  1  shall  make  you  know  the 
will  and  design  of  tlie  Father  ;  what  a  kingdom  I 
am  to  have,  and  by  what  means,  and  to  what  end. 
And  this  the  Father  himself  will  show  unto  you  ; 
"  for  he  loveth  you,  because  ye  have  loved  me,  and 
have  believed  that  I  came  out  from  the  Father." 
Because  ye  have  beheved  that  I  am  the  "  Son  of 
God,  the  Messiah  ;"  that  he  hath  anointed  and  sent 
me  ;  though  it  hath  not  been  yet  fully  discovered 
to  you  what  kind  of  kingdom  it  shall  be,  nor  by 
what  means  brought  about.  And  then  our  Savi- 
our, without  being  asked,  explaining  to  them  what 
he  had  said,  and  making  them  understand  better, 
w'hat  before  they  stuck  at,  and  complained  secretly 
among  themselves,  that  they  understood  not ;  they 
thereupon  declare,  "Now  are  we  sure  that  thou 
knowest  all  things,  and  needest  not  that  any  man 
should  ask  thee."  It  is  plain  thou  knoweet  men's 
thoughts  and  doubts  before  they  ask.  "  By  this  we 
believe  that  thou  comest  forth  from  God.  Jesus 
answered.  Do  ye  now  believe  1"  Notwithstanding 
that  you  now  believe  that  I  came  from  God,  and 
am  the  Messiah,  sent  by  him  ;  "Behold,  the  hour 
cometh,  yea,  is  now  come,  that  ye  shall  be  scat- 
tered ;"  and  as  it  is.  Matt.  xxvi.  31,  and  "  shall  all 
be  scandalized  in  me."  What  it  is  to  be  scandal- 
ized in  him,  we  may  see  by  what  followed  here- 
upon, if  that  which  he  says  to  St.  Peter,  Mark,  xvi., 
did  not  sufficiently  explain  it. 

128.  This  I  have  been  the  more  particular  in, 
that  it  may  be  seen,  that  in  his  last  discourse  to 
his  disciples  (where  he  opened  himself  more  than 
he  had  hitherto  done  ;  and  where,  if  any  thing 
more  was  required  to  make  them  believers,  than 
what  they  already  believed,  we  might  have  ex- 
pected they  should  have  heard  of  it)  there  were 
no  new  articles  proposed  to  them,  hit  what  they 
believed  before,  viz. :  that  he  was  the  Messiah,  the 
Son  of  God,  sent  from  the  Father  :  though  of  his 
manner  of  proceeding,  and  his  sudden  leaving  the 
world,  and  some  few  particulars,  he  made  them 
understand  something  more  than  they  did  before. 
But  as  to  the  main  design  of  the  gospel,  viz.,  that 
he  had  a  Idngdom,  that  he  should  be  put  to  death, 
and  rise  again,  and  ascend  into  heaven  to  his 
Father,  and  come  again  in  glory  to  judge  the 
world,  this  he  had  told  them;  and  so  had  ac- 
quainted them  with  the  great  council  of  God,  in 
sending  him,  the  Messiah,  and  omitted  nothing  that 
was  necessary  to  be  known  or  believed  in  it.  And 
so  he  tells  them  himself,  John  xv.  15  :  "  Hence- 
forth I  call  ye  not  servants  ;  for  the  servant  knovv- 
eth  not  what  liis  Lord  does  :  but  I  have  called  ye 
friends ;  for  all  things  I  have  heard  of  my  Father 
I  have  made  known  unto  you  ;"  though  perhaps 
ye  do  not  so  fully  comprehend  them  as  you  will 
shortly,  when  I  am  risen  and  ascended. 

129.  To  conclude  aU,  in  his  prayer,  which  shuts 
up  this  discourse,  he  tells  the  Father  what  he  had 
made  known  to  his  apostles ;  the  result  whereof 


we  have,  John  xvii.  8:  "I  have  given  unto  them 
the  words  which  thou  gavest  me,  and  they  have 
received  them,  and  they  have  believed  that  thou 
didst  send  me  :"  which  is  in  effect,  that  he  was  the 
Messiah  promised  and  sent  by  God.  And  then  he 
prays  for  them,  and  adds,  verse  20, 21,  "  Neither 
pray  I  for  these  alone,  but  for  them  also  who  be- 
lieve on  me  through  their  word."  What  that 
word  was  through  which  others  should  believe  in 
him,  we  have  seen  in  the  preaching  of  the  apostles 
all  through  the  history  of  the  Acts,  viz.,  this  one 
great  point,  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah.  The 
apostles,  he  says,  verse  25,  "know  that  thou  hast 
sent  me  ;"  that  is,  are  assured  that  I  am  the  Mes- 
siah :  and  in  verses  21  and  23,  he  prays,  "  that  the 
world  may  believe  (which  in  verse  23  is  called 
knowing)  that  thou  has  sent  me  :"  so  that  what 
Christ  would  have  believed  by  his  disciples,  we 
may  see  by  this,  his  last  prayer  for  them,  when  he 
was  leaving  the  world,  as  well  as  by  what  he 
preached  whilst  he  was  in  it.  And  as  a  testi- 
mony of  this,  one  of  his  last  actions,  even  when 
he  was  upon  the  cross,  was  to  confirm  this  doc- 
trine, by  giving  salvation  to  one  of  the  thieves 
that  was  crucified  with  him,  upon  his  declaration 
that  he  beheved  him  to  be  the  Messiah  ;  for  so 
much  the  words  of  his  request  imported,  when  he 
said,  "  Remember  me.  Lord,  when  thou  comest 
into  thy  kingdom."  To  which  Jesus  rephed, 
"  Verily  I  say  unto  thee,  to-day  shalt  thou  be  with 
me  in  paradise."  An  expression  very  remark- 
able :  for  as  Adam,  by  sin,  lost  paradise  ;  that  is, 
a  state  of  happy  immortality  ;  here  the  believing 
thief,  through  his  faith  in  Jesus,  the  Messiah,  is 
promised  to  be  put  in  paradise,  and  so  reinstated 
in  a  happy  immortality. 

130.  Thus  our  Saviour  ended  his  life.  And  what 
he  did  after  his  resurrection  St.  Luke  tells  us. 
Acts,  i.  3,  that  he  showed  himself  to  the  apostles 
"  forty  days,  speaking  things  concerning  the  king- 
dom of  God."  This  was  what  our  Saviour  preach- 
ed in  the  whole  course  of  his  ministry,  before  his 
passion  ;  and  no  other  mysteries  of  faith  does  he 
now  discover  to  them  after  his  resurrection.  All  he 
says  is  concerning  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  and  what 
it  was  he  said  concerning  that,  we  shall  see  pre- 
sently, out  of  the  other  evangelists  ;  having  first 
only  taken  notice,  that  when  they  now  asked  him, 
"  Lord,  wilt  thou  at  this  time  restore  again  the  king- 
dom to  Israel  V  he  said  unto  them,  "  It  is  not  for 
you  to  know  the  times  and  the  seasons  which  the 
Father  hath  put  into  his  own  power  :  but  ye  shall 
receive  power  after  that  the  Holy  Ghost  is  come 
upon  you ;  and  ye  shall  be  witnesses  unto  ms  unto 
the  utmost  parts  of  the  earth."  Their  great  busi- 
ness was  to  be  witnesses  to  Jesus,  of  his  life,  death, 
resurrection  and  ascension ;  which,  put  together, 
were  undeniable  proofs  of  his  being  tlie  Messiah. 
This  was  what  they  were  to  preach,  and  what  h« 
said  to  them  concerning  the  kingdom  of  God,  as 
will  appear  by  what  is  recorded  of  it  in  the  other 
evangelists. 

131.  When,  on  tlie  day  of  his  resurrection,  he 
appeared  to  the  two  going;  to  Emmaus,  they  de- 
clare what  his  disciples'  faith  in  him  was  :  "  But 
we  trusted  that  it  liad  been  he  that  should  have 
redeemed  Israel ;"  that  is,  we  believed  that  he  was 
the  Messiah,  come  to  deliver  the  nation  of  the 
Jews.  Upon  this  Jesus  tells  them,  that  they  ought 


48 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OP    CHRISTIANITY. 


to  believe  him  to  be  the  Messiah,  notwithstanding 
what  had  happened ;  nay,  they  ought,  by  his  suf- 
fering and  death,  to  be  confirmed  in  that  faith,  that 
he  was  the  Messiah.  And  "  beginning  at  Moses 
and  all  the  phrophets,  he  expounded  unto  them  in 
all  the  Scriptures,  the  things  concerning  himself ; 
how,  that  the  Messiah  ought  to  have  suffered  these 
things,  and  to  have  entered  into  his  glory."  Now, 
he  applies  the  prophesies  of  the  Messiah  to  him- 
self, which  we  read  not  that  he  did  ever  do  before 
his  passion.  And  afterwards  appearing  to  the 
eleven,  Luke  xxiv.,  he  said  unto  them,  "  the  words 
which  I  spoke  unto  you  while  I  was  yet  with  you, 
that  all  things  must  be  fulfilled  which  are  written 
in  the  law  of  Moses,  and  in  the  prophets,  and  in  the 
Psalms  concerning  me.  Then  opened  he  their 
understandings,  that  they  might  understand  the 
Scripture  ;  and  said  unto  them,  Thus  it  is  written, 
and  thus  it  behoveth  the  Messiah  to  suffer,  and  to 
rise  from  the  dead  the  third  day  ;  and  that  repent- 
ance and  remission  of  sins  should  be  preached  in 
his  name  among  all  nations,  beginning  at  Jerusa- 
lem." Here  we  see  what  it  was  he  had  preached 
to  them,  though  not  in  so  plain  open  words  before 
his  crucifixion  ;  and  what  it  is  he  now  makes  them 
understand ;  and  what  it  was  that  was  to  be  preach- 
ed to  all  nations,  viz.,  that  he  was  the  Messiah, 
that  had  suffered,  and  rose  from  the  dead  the 
third  day,  and  fulfilled  all  things  that  were  written 
in  the  Old  Testament  concerning  the  Messiah ; 
and  that  those  who  believed  this,  and  repentedj 
should  receive  remission  of  their  sins  through  this 
faith  in  him.  Or,  as  St.  Mark  has  it,  ch.  xVi.,  "Go 
into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature :  he  that  believeth,  and  is  baptized,  shall  be 
saved ;  but  he  that  believeth  not,  shall  be  damned." 
What  the  gospel,  or  good  news  was,  we  have 
showed  already ;  viz.,  the  happy  tidings  of  the 
Messiah  being  come  :  and  "  they  went  forth  and 
preached  every  where,  the  Lord  working  with 
them,  and  confirming  the  word  with  signs  follow- 
ing." What  the  word  was  which  they  preached, 
and  the  Lord  confirmed  with  miracles,  we  have 
seen  already  out  of  the  history  of  their  acts :  I 
have  already  given  an  account  of  their  preaching 
e^^ery  where,  as  it  is  recorded  in  the  Acts,  except 
some  few  places,  where  the  kingdom  oif  the  Mes- 
siah is  mentioned  under  the  name  of  "  the  kingdom 
of  God,"  which  I  forbore  to  set  down,  till  I  had 
made  it  plain  out  of  the  evangelists,  that  that  was 
no  other  but  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah. 

132.  It  may  be  seasonable  therefore  now,  to  add 
to  those  sermons  we  have  formerly  seen  of  St. 
Paul  (wherein  he  preached  no  other  article  of  faith, 
but  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah,  the  king,  who  be. 
ing  risen  fi 


from  the  dead,  now  reigneth,  and  shall 


more  publicly  manifest  his  kingdom  in  judging  the 
world  at  the  last  day)  what  further  is  left  upon  ro- 
cord  of  his  preaching.  At  Ephesus,  Paul  went  into 
the  synagogues,  and  spake  boldly  for  the  space  of 
three  months  ;  disputing  and  persuading  concern- 
ing the  kingdom  of  God.*  At  Miletus  he  thus 
takes  leave  of  the  elders  of  Ephesus:  "And  now, 
behold,  I  know  that  ye  all  among  whom  I  have 
gone  preaching  the  kingdom  of  God,  shall  see  my 
face  no  more."t  What  this  preaching  the  kingdom 
of  God  was,  he  tells  you,  verse  20,  21 :  "I  have 


*  Actsxix. 


1  Ibid.  XX. 


kept  nothing  back  frotn  you,  which  was  profitable 
unto  you,  but  have  showed  you,  and  have  taught 
you  publicly,  and  from  house  to  house  ;  testifying 
both  to  the  Jews  and  to  the  Greeks,  repentance 
towards  God,  and  faith  towards  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  And  so  again  :  "  When  they  [the  Jews 
at  Rome]  had  appointed  him  [Paul]  a  day,  there 
came  many  to  him  into  his  lodgings  ;  to  whom  he 
expounded  and  testified  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  per- 
suading them  concerning  Jesus,  both  out  of  the 
law  of  Moses  and  out  of  the  prophets,  from  morn- 
ing to  evening.  And  some  believed  the  things 
which  were  spoken,  and  some  believed  not.*  And 
the  history  of  the  Acts  is  concluded  with  this  ac- 
count of  St.  Paul's  preaching  :  "  And  Paul  dwelt 
two  whole  years  in  his  own  hired  house,  and  re- 
ceived all  that  came  in  unto  him  ;  preaching  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  teaching  those  things  which 
concern  the  Lord  Jesus,  the  Messiah."  We  may 
therefore  here  apply  the  same  conclusion  to  the  his- 
tory of  our  Saviour  written  by  the  evangelists,  and 
to  the  history  of  the  apostles  written  in  the  Acts, 
which  St.  John  does  to  his  own  gospel.f  "  Many 
other  signs  did  Jesus  before  his  disciples  :"  and  in 
many  other  places  the  apostles  preached  the  same 
doctrine,  "  which  are  not  written"  in  these  books; 
"  but  these  are  written,  that  you  may  believe  that 
Jesus  is  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God ;  and,  that 
believing,  you  may  have  life  in  his  name." 

133.  What  St.  John  thought  necessary  and  suf- 
ficient to  be  believed  for  the  attaining  eternal  life, 
he  here  tells  us.  And  this,  not  in  the  first  dawn- 
ing of  the  gospel,  when,  perhaps,  some  will  be  apt 
to  think  less  was  required  to  be  believed  than  after 
the  doctrine  of  faith,  and  mystery  of  salvation,  was 
more  fully  explained  in  the  epistles  written  by  the 
apostles.  For  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  St. 
John  says  this  not  as  soon  as  Christ  was  ascend- 
ed ;  for  these  words,  with  the  rest  of  St.  John's 
gospel,  were  not  written  till  many  years  after,  not 
only  the  other  gospels,  and  St.  Luke's  history  of 
the  Acts,  but,  in  all  appearance,  after  all  the  epis- 
tles written  by  the  other  apostles.  So  that  above 
threescore  years  after  our  Saviour's  passion,  (for 
so  long  after,  both  Epiphaninus  and  St.  Jerome 
assure  us  this  gospel  was  written,)  St.  John  knew 
nothing  else  required  to  be  believed  for  the  attain- 
ing of  life,  but  that  "  Jesua  is  the  Messiah,  the  Son 
of  God." 

134.  To  this  it  is  likely  it  will  be  objected  by 
some,  that  to  believe  only  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
is  the  Messiah,  is  but  an  historical  and  not  a  justi- 
fying or  saving  faith.  To  which  I  answer,  that  I 
allow  to  the  makers  of  systems,  and  their  followers, 
to  invent  and  use  wiiat  distinctions  they  please, 
and  to  call  things  by  what  names  they  think  fit. 
But  I  cannot  allow  them,  or  to  any  man,  an  authori- 
ty to  make  a  religion  for  me,  or  to  alter  that  which 
God  hath  revealed.  And  if  they  please  to  call  the 
believing  that  which  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles 
preached,  and  proposed  alone  to  be  believed,  an 
historical  faith,  they  have  their  liberty  ;  but  they 
must  have  a  care  how  they  deny  it  to  be  a  justify- 
ing or  saving  faith,  when  our  Saviour  and  his  apos- 
tles have  declared  it  so  to  be,  and  taught  no  other 
which  men  should  receive,  and  whereby  they  should 
be  made  believers  unto  eternal  life  ;  unless  they 


♦  Acts  xxviii. 


+  Chap.  x-t. 


I'HE    REASONABLENESS    OP    CHRISTIANITY. 


49 


Can  so  far  make  bold  with  our  Saviour,  for  the  sake 
of  their  beloved  systems,  as  to  say,  that  he  forgot 
what  he  came  into  the  world  for ;  and  that  he  and 
his  apostles  did  not  instruct  people  right  in  the 
way  and  mysteries  of  salvation :  for  that  this  is 
the  sole  doctrine  pressed  and  required  to  be  believ- 
ed in  the  whole  tenor  of  our  Saviour's  and  his  apos- 
tles' preaching,  we  have  showed  through  the  whole 
history  of  the  evangelists  and  the  Acts.  And  I 
challenge  them  to  show  that  there  was  any  other 
doctrine,  upon  their  assent  to  which,  or  disbelief  of 
it,  men  were  pronounced  believers  or  unbelievers  ; 
and,  accordingly  received  into  the  church  of  Christ, 
as  members  of  his  body,  as  far  as  mere  believing 
could  make  them  so,  or  else  kept  out  of  it :  this 
was  the  only  gospel  article  of  faith  which  was 
preached  to  them.  And  if  nothing  else  was  preach- 
ed every  where,  the  apostle's  argument  will  hold 
against  any  other  articles  of  faith  to  be  believed 
under  the  gospel,  Rom.  x.  14  :  "  How  shall  they 
believe  that  whereof  they  liave  not  heard  ]"  For 
to  preach  any  other  doctrines  necessary  to  be  be- 
Heved,  we  do  not  find  that  any  body  was  sent. 

135.  Perhaps  it  will  be  further  argued,  that  this 
is  not  a  saving  faith,  because  such  a  faith  as  this 
the  devils  may  have,  and  it  was  plain  they  had ; 
for  they  believed  and  declared  Jesus  to  be  the 
Messiah.  And  St.  James  tells  us,  "the  devils 
beheve,  and  tremble  ;"  and  yet  they  shall  not  be 
saved.  To  which  I  answer,  1.  That  they  could 
not  be  saved  by  any  faith,  to  whom  it  was  not 
proposed  as  a  means  of  salvation,  nor  ever  pro- 
mised to  be  counted  for  righteousness.  This  was 
an  act  of  grace  shown  only  to  mankind.  God 
dealt  so  favorably  with  tiie  posterity  of  Adam, 
that  if  they  would  believe  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah, 
the  promised  king  and  Saviour,  and  perform  what 
other  conditions  were  required  of  them  by  the 
covenant  of  grace,  God  would  justify  them  because 
of  tliis  belief ;  he  would  account  tliis  faith  to  them 
for  righteousness,  and  look  on  it  as  making  up  the 
defects  of  their  obedience  ;  which  being  thus  sup- 
plied by  what  was  taken  instead  of  it,  they  were 
looked  on  as  just  or  righteous,  and  so  inherited 
eternal  life.  But  this  favor  shown  to  mankind, 
was  never  offered  to  the  fallen  angels.  They  had 
no  such  proposals  made  to  them  ;  and  therefore 
whatever  of  this  kind  was  proposed  to  men,  it 
availed  not  devils  whatever  they  performed  of  it. 
This  covenant  of  grace  was  never  offered  to  them. 
2.  I  answer,  that  though  the  devils  believed,  yet 
they  could  not  be  saved  by  the  covenant  of  grace  ; 
because  they  performed  not  the  other  condition 
required  in  it,  altogether  as  necessary  to  be  per- 
formed as  this  of  believing,  and  that  is  repentance. 
Repentance  is  as  absolute  a  condition  of  the  cove- 
nant of  grace  as  faith,  and  as  necessary  to  be  per- 
formed as  that.  John  the  Baptist,  who  was  to 
prepare  the  way  for  the  Messiah,  "preached  the 
baptism  of  repentance  for  the  remission  of  sins." 

136.  As  John  began  his  preaching  with  "  Re- 
pent, for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand,"*  so 
did  our  Saviour  begin  his :  "  From  that  time  began 
Jesus  to  preach,  and  to  say,  Repent,  for  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  is  at  hand."  Or,  as  St.  Mark  has 
it  in  the  parallel  place :  "  Now,  after  that  Jolm  was 
put  in  prison,  Jesus  came  into  Galilee,  preaching 


♦  Matt.  iii.  iv. 


dsayi 
time  is  fulfilled,  and  the  kingdom  of  God  is  at 
hand  :  repent  ye,  and  believe  the  gospel."*  Tliis 
was  not  only  the  beginning  of  iiis  preacliing,  but 
the  sum  of  all  that  he  did  preacli ;  viz.  that  men 
siiould  repent,  and  beheve  the  good  tidings  which 
he  brought  them  ;  that  the  time  was  fulfilled  for 
the  coming  of  the  Messiah.  And  this  was  what 
his  apostles  preached,  when  he  sent  them  out : 
«  and  they  going  out,  preached  that  men  should 
repent."!  Believing  Jesus  to  be  tlie  Messiah, 
and  repenting,  were  so  necessary  and  fundamen- 
tal parts  of  the  covenant  of  grace,  tliat  one  of  them 
alone  is  often  put  for  both.  For  here  St.  Mark 
mentions  nothing  but  their  preaching  repentance ; 
as  St.  Luke,  in  the  parallel  place,  chapter  ix.  6., 
mentions  nothing  but  their  evangelizing,  or  preach- 
ing the  good  news  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah. 
And  St.  Paul  often,  in  his  epistles,  puts  faitli  for 
tlie  whole  duty  of  a  Christian.  J  Bufyet  the  tenor 
of  the  gospel  is  what  Christ  declares,  Luke  xii. : 
"  Unless  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  likewise  perish." 
And  in  the  parable  of  the  rich  man  m  hell,  deli- 
vered by  our  Saviour,  repentance  alone  is  the 
means  proposed  of  avoiding  tliat  place  of  torment. 
And  what  the  tenor  of  the  doctrine,  whicli  should 
be  preached  to  the  world,  should  be,  he  tells  liis 
apostles  after  his  resurrection,  Luke  xxiv.  27,  viz. 
"  That  repentance  and  remission  of  sins  should  be 
preached  in  his  name,"  who  was  the  Messiah. — 
And  accordingly  believing  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah, 
and  repenting,  was  what  the  apostles  preached. 
So  Peter  began.  Acts  ii.  38  :  "  Repent,  and  be 
baptized."  These  two  things  were  required  for 
the  remission  of  sms,  viz.  entering  themselves  in 
the  kingdom  of  God,  and  owning  and  professing 
themselves  the  subjects  of  Jesus,  whom  they  be- 
lieved to  be  the  Messiah,  and  received  for  their 
Lord  and  King  ;  for  that  was  to  be  baptized  in 
his  name  :  baptism  being  an  initiating  ceremony 
known  to  the  Jews,  whereby  those,  who  leaving 
heathenism,  and  professing  a  submission  to  the  law 
of  Moses,  were  received  into  the  commonwealth 
of  Israel.  And  so  it  was  made  use  of  by  our  Sa- 
viour, to  be  that  solemn  visible  act,  whereby  those 
who  behoved  him  to  be  the  Messiah,  received  him 
as  their  King,  and  professed  obedience  to  him, 
were  admitted  as  subjects  into  his  kingdom  :  which 
in  the  Gospels  is  called  "  the  kingdom  of  God  ;'* 
and  in  the  Acts  and  epistles  often  by  another  name, 
viz.  the  Church.  The  same  St.  Peter  preaches 
again  to  the  Jews,  "  Repent,  and  be  converted, 
that  your  sins  may  be  blotted  out."|| 

137.  What  this  repentance  was,  which  the  new 
covenant  required  as  one  of  the  conditions  to  be 
performed  by  all  those  who  sliould  receive  the 
benefits  of  that  covenant,  is  plahi  in  the  Scripture, 
to  be  not  only  a  sorrow  for  sins  past,  but  (what  is 
a  natural  consequence  of  such  sorrow,  if  it  be  real) 

*  Mark  i.  t  Mark  vi. 

t  And  even  in  matters  of  faith,  involuntary  errors 
are  harmless.  "For  heresy  is  not  an  error  of  the 
understanding,  but  an  error  of  the  will.  And  this 
is  clearly  insinuated  in  Scripture,  in  the  style  where 
failh  and  a  eood  life  are  made  one  duty,  and  vice  is 
called  opposite  to  faith,  and  heresy  opposed  to  holi- 
ness and  sanctity."— Liberty  of  Prophesying.  Sa- 
cred Classics,  Vol.  i.  up.  31,  32.— En. 

II  Acts  iii.  19. 


50 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


a  turning  from  them,  into  a  new  and  contrary  life. 
And  so  they  are  joined  together,  Acts  iii.  :  "  Re- 
pent, and  turn  about ;"  or,  as  we  render  it,  be 
converted.  And,  Acts  xxvi. :  "  Repent  and  turn 
to  God."  And  sometimes  turning  about  is  put 
alone  to  signify  repentance.*  Wliicli  in  other 
words  is  well  expressed  by  newness  of  life.  For 
it  being  certain,  that  he  wiio  is  really  sorry  for  his 
sins,  and  abhors  them,  will  turn  from  them,  and 
forsake  them  ;  eitlier  of  these  acts,  which  have  so 
natural  a  connection  one  with  the  other,  may  be, 
and  is  often  put  for  both  together.  Repentance 
is  a  hearty  sorrow  for  our  past  misdeeds,  and  a  ] 
sincere  resolution  and  endeavor,  to  the  utmost  of 
our  power,  to  conform  all  our  actions  to  the  law  of 
God.  So  that  repentance  does  not  consist  in  one 
single  act  of  sorrow,  (though  that  being  the  first 
and  leading  act,  gives  denomination  to  the  whole,) 
but  in  doing  works  of  repentance,  in  a  sincere 
obedience  to  the  law  of  Christ,  the  remainder  of 
our  hves.  This  was  called  for  by  John  the  Bap- 
tist, the  preacher  of  repentance  :  "  Bring  forth 
fruits  meet  for  repentance."  And  by  St.  Paul  here, 
"  Repent  and  turn  to  God,  and  do  works  meet  for 
repentance."  There  are  works  to  follow  belong- 
ing to  repentance,  as  well  as  soitow  for  what  is 
past.  These  two,  faith  and  repentance  ;  that  is, 
believing  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah,  and  a  good  Ufe, 
are  the  indispensable  conditions  of  the  new  cove- 
nant, to  be  performed  by  all  those  who  would  ob- 
tain eternal  life.  The  reasonableness,  or  rather 
necessity  of  which,  that  we  may  the  better  com- 
prehend, we  must  a  little  look  back  to  what  was 
said  in  the  beginning. 

138.  Adam  being  the  Son  of  God,  and  so  St. 
Luke  calls  him,  chapter  iii.  38,  had  this  part  also 
of  the  hkeness  and  image  of  his  Father,  viz.  that 
he  was  immortal.  But  Adam  transgressing  the 
command  given  him  by  liis  heavenly  Father,  in- 
curred the  penalty,  forfeited  that  state  of  immor- 
tality, and  became  mortal.  After  this,  Adam  begot 
children,  but  they  were  "  in  his  own  likeness,  after 
his  own  image  ;"  mortal  like  their  father.  God, 
nevertheless,  out  of  his  infinite  mercy,  willing  to 
bestow  eternal  life  on  mortal  men,  sends  Jesus 
Clu-ist  into  the  world  ;  who  being  conceived  in  the 
womb  of  a  virgin  (that  had  not  known  man)  by 
the  immediate  power  of  God,  was  properly  the 
Son  of  God  ;  according  to  what  the  angel  declared 
to  his  mother,  "  The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon 
thee,  and  the  power  of  the  highest  shall  overslia- 
dow  thee  :  therefore  also  that  holy  thing  which 
shall  be  born  of  thee,  shall  be  called  the  Son  of 
God."  So  that  being  the  Son  of  God,  he  was, 
like  his  Father,  immortal ;  as  he  tells  us,  John  v. 
"As  the  Father  hath  life  in  himself,  so  hath  he 
given  to  the  Son  to  have  life  in  himself." 

139.  And  that  immortality  is  a  part  of  that 
image,  wherein  these  (who  were  the  immediate 
sons  of  God,  so  as  to  have  no  other  father)  were 
made  like  their  father,  appears  probable,  not  only 
from  the  places  in  Genesis  concerning  Adam, 
above  taken  notice  of,  but  seems  to  me  also  to  be 
intimated  in  some  expressions  concerning  Jesus, 
the  Son  of  God.  In  the  New  Testament,  he  is 
called  "  the  image  of  the  invisible  God."t  Invisi- 
ble seems  put  in,  to  obviate  any  gross  imagination, 


*  Matt.  xiii.  15 :  Luke  xxii.  32.         t  Col.  i.  15. 


that  he  (as  images  used  to  do)  represented  God  in 
any  corporeal  or  visible  resemblance.  And  there 
is  further  subjoined,  to  lead  us  into  the  meaning  of 
it,  "  The  first-born  of  every  creature  ;"  which  is 
further  explained,  verse  18,  where  he  is  termed, 
"  The  first-born  from  the  dead  :"  thereby  making 
out,  and  showing  himself  to  be  the  image  of  the 
invisible  God  ;  that  death  hath  no  power  over  him : 
but  being  the  Son  of  God,  and  not  iiaving  forfeited 
that  sonship  by  any  transgression,  was  the  heir  of 
eternal  life  ;  as  Adam  should  have  been,  had  he 
continued  his  filial  duty.  In  the  same  sense  the 
apostle  seems  to  use  the  word  image  in  other 
places,  viz.  "  Whom  he  did  foreknow,  he  also  did 
predestinate  to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his 
Son,  that  he  might  be  the  first-born  among  many 
brethren.'"*  This  image,  to  which  they  were  con- 
formed, seenxs  to  be  immortality  and  eternal  life. 
For  it  is  remarkable,  that  in  both  these  places  St. 
Paul  speaks  of  the  resurrection,  and  that  Christ 
was  "  the  first-bom  among  many  brethren  ;"  he 
being  by  birth  the  Son  of  God,  and  the  others  only 
by  adoption,  as  we  see  in  this  same  chapter :  "  Ye 
have  received  the  Spirit  of  adoption,  whereby  we 
cry,  Abba,  Father :  the  Spirit  itself  bearing  wit- 
ness with  our  spirits,  that  we  are  the  children  of 
God.  And  if  children,  then  heu's  ;  and  joint-heirs 
with  Christ :  if  so  be  that  we  suffer  with  him,  that 
we  may  also  be  glorified  together."  And  hence 
we  see  that  our  Saviour  vouchsafes  to  call  those, 
who  at  the  day  of  judgment  are  through  him  en- 
tering into  eternal  life,  his  brethren  :  "  Inasmuch 
as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these, 
my  brethren."  May  we  not  in  this  find  a  reason 
why  God  so  frequently  in  the  New  Testament, 
and  so  seldom,  if  at  all,  in  the  Old,  is  mentioned 
under  the  single  title  of  the  Father  ?  And  there- 
fore our  Saviour  says,  "  No  man  knoweth  the 
Father  save  the  Son,  and  he  to  whomsoever  the 
Son  will  reveal  him."  God  has  now  a  Son  again 
in  the  world,  the  first-born  of  many  brethren,  who 
all  now,  by  the  Spirit  of  adoption,  can  say,  Abba, 
Father  ;  and  we,  by  adoption,  being  for  his  sake 
made  his  brethren,  and  the  sons  of  God,  come  to 
share  in  that  inheritance  which  was  his  natural 
right,  he  being  by  birth  the  Son  of  God :  which 
inheritance  is  eternal  life.  And  again  :  "  We 
groan  within  ourselves,  waiting  for  the  adoption  ; 
to  wit,  the  redemption  of  our  body  ;"  whereby  is 
plainly  meant  the  change  of  these  frail  mortal  bo- 
dies, into  the  spiritual  immortal  bodies  at  the  re- 
surrection :  "  When  this  mortal  shall  have  put  on 
immortality,"  which  he  further  expresses  thus  : 
"  So  also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  It  is 
sown  in  corruption,  it  is  raised  in  incorruption  :  it 
is  sown  in  dishonor,  it  is  raised  in  glory  :  it  is  sown 
in  weakness,  it  is  raised  in  power :  it  is  sown  a 
natural  body,  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body,"  &c. — 
To  which  he  subjoms,  "  As  we  have  borne  the 
image  of  the  earthy"  (that  is,  as  we  have  been 
mortal,  like  earthy  Adam,  our  father,  from  whom 
we  are  descended,  when  he  was  turned  out  of 
paradise)  "  we  shall  also  bear  the  image  of  the 
heavenly  ;"  into  whose  sonship  and  inheritance 
being  adopted,  we  shall,  at  the  resurrection,  re- 
ceive that  adoption  we  expect ;  "  even  the  re- 
demption of  our  bodies ;"  and  after  his  image, 


Rom.  viii.  29. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY 


51 


which  is  the  image  of  the  Father,  become  immor- 
tal. Hear  what  he  himself  says  :  "  They  who 
shall  be  accounted  worthy  to  obtain  that  world, 
and  the  resurrection  from  the  dead,  neither  marry 
nor  are  given  in  marriage.  Neither  can  they  die 
any  more  ;  for  they  are  equal  unto  the  angels, 
and  are  the  sons  of  God,  being  the  sons  of  the  re- 
surrection." And  he  that  shall  read  St.  Paul's 
argument,  Acts  xiii.,  will  find,  that  the  great  evi- 
dence that  Jesus  was  the  Son  of  God  was  his  re- 
surrection. Then  the  image  of  his  Father  ap- 
peared in  him,  when  he  visibly  entered  into  the 
state  of  immortality.  For  thus  the  apostle  rea- 
sons :  "  We  preach  to  you,  how  that  the  promise 
which  was  made  to  our  fathers,  God  hath  fulfilled 
the  same  unto  us,  in  that  he  hath  raised  up  Jesus 
again  ;  as  it  is  also  written  in  the  second  Psalm, 
Thou  art  my  Son,  this  day  have  I  begotten  thee." 

140.  This  may  serve  a  little  to  explain  the  im- 
mortality of  the  sons  of  God,  who  are  in  this,  like 
their  Father,  made  after  his  image  and  likeness. 
But  that  our  Saviour  was  so,  he  himself  further 
declares,  John  x.,  where,  speaking  of  his  life,  he 
says  : — •'  No  one  taketh  it  from  me,  but  I  lay  it 
down  of  myself:  I  have  power  to  lay  it  down,  and 
I  have  power  to  take  it  up  again."  Which  he 
could  not  have  had  if  he  had  been  a  mortal  man, 
the  son  of  a  man  of  the  seed  of  Adam  ;  or  else 
had  by  any  transgression  forfeited  his  life  :  for 
"  the  wages  of  sin  is  death."  And  he  that  hath 
ncurred  death  for  his  own  transgression,  cannot 
ay  down  his  life  for  another,  as  our  Saviour  pro- 
isses  he  did.  For  he  was  the  Just  One,  "  who 
knew  no  sin,  who  did  no  sin ;  neither  was  guile 
found  in  his  mouth."  And  thus,  "  As  by  man  came 
death,  so  by  man  came  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead.  For  as  in  Adam  all  die,  so  in  Christ  shall 
all  be  made  alive." 

141.  For  this  laying  down  his  life  for  others, 
our  Saviour  tells  us,  "  Therefore  does  my  Father 
love  me,  because  I  lay  down  my  life  that  I  might 
take  it  again."  And  this,  his  obedience  and  suf- 
fering, was  rewarded  with  a  kingdom,  which  he 
tells  us,  "  his  Father  had  appointed  unto  him ;" 
and  which  it  is  evident,  out  of  the  epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  he  had  a  regard  to  in  his  sufferings  : — 
"  Who,  for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him,  en- 
dured the  cross,  despising  the  shame,  and  is  set 
down  at  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of  God." — 
Whicii  kingdom,  given  him  upon  this  account  of 
his  obedience,  suffering,  and  death,  he  himself 
takes  notice  of  in  these  words  :  "  Jesus  lift  up  his 
eyes  to  heaven,  and  said.  Father,  the  hour  is 
come ;  glorify  thy  Son,  that  thy  Son  also  may  glorify 
thee.  As  thou  hast  given  him  power  over  all 
flesh,  that  he  should  give  eternal  life  to  as  many 
as  thou  hast  given  him.  And  this  is  hfe  eternal, 
that  they  may  know  thee,  the  only  true  God,  and 
Jesus  the  Messiah,  whom  thou  hast  sent.  I  have 
glorified  thee  on  earth  :  I  have  finished  the  work 
which  thou  gavest  me  to  do."  And  St.  Paul,  in 
his  epistle  to  the  Philippians :  "  He  humbled  him- 
self, and  became  obedient  unto  death,  even  the 
death  of  the  cross.  Wherefore  God  also  hath 
highly  exalted  him,  and  given  him  a  name  that  is 
above  every  name :  that  at  the  name  of  Jesus 
every  knee  shall  bow,  of  things  in  heaven  and 
things  in  eartli,  and  things  under  the  earth :  and 


that  every  tongue  shall  confess  that  Jesus  Christ 
is  Lord." 

142.  Thus  God,  we  see,  designed  his  Son  Christ 
Jesus  a  kingdom, — an  everlasting  kingdom  in 
heaven.  But  "  though  as  in  Adam  all  die,  so  in 
Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive  ;"  and  all  men  shall 
return  to  life  again  at  the  last  day  ;  yet  all  men 
having  sinned,  and  thereby  "  come  short  of  the 
glory  of  God,"  as  St.  Paul  assures  us ;  (that  is, 
not  attaining  to  the  heavenly  kingdom  of  the 
Messiai),  which  is  often  called  the  "glory  of  God;" 
as  may  be  seen,  Rom.  v.  2,  and  xv.  7,  and  ii.  7  ; 
Matt.  xvi.  27  ;  Mark  viii.  38  ;  for  no  one  who  is 
unrighteous,  that  is,  comes  short  of  perfect  righte- 
ousness, shall  be  admitted  into  the  eternal  life  of 
that  kingdom  ;  as  is  declared,  1  Cor.  vi.  9  :  "The 
unrighteous  shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God) 
— and  death,  the  wages  of  sin,  being  the  portion 
of  all  tliose  who  had  transgressed  the  righteous 
law  of  God,  the  Son  of  God  would  in  vain  have 
come  into  the  world,  to  lay  the  foundations  of  a 
kingdom,  and  gather  together  a  select  peojjle  out 
of  the  world,  if  (they  being  found  guilty  at  their 
appearance  before  the  judgment-seat  of  the 
righteous  Judge  of  all  men  at  the  last  day)  instead 
of  entrance  mto  eternal  life  in  the  kingdom  he 
had  prepared  for  them,  they  should  receive  death, 
the  just  reward  of  sin,  which  every  one  of  them 
was  guilty  of.  This  second  death  would  have 
left  him  no  subjects  ;  and  instead  of  those  ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousand,  and  thousands  of 
thousands,  there  would  not  have  been  one  left  him 
to  sing  praises  unto  his  name,  saying,  "  Blessing, 
and  honor,  and  glory,  and  power,  be  unto  him  that 
sitteth  on  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  for  ever 
and  ever."  God,  therefore,  out  of  his  mercy  to 
mankind,  and  for  the  erecting  of  the  kingdom  of 
his  Son,  and  furnishmg  it  with  subjects  out  oi 
every  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people,  and  na- 
tion, proposed  to  the  children  of  men,  that  as 
many  of  them  as  would  believe  Jesus  his  Son 
(whom  he  sent  into  the  world)  to  be  the  Messiah, 
the  promised  deliverer,  and  would  receive  him  for 
their  king  and  ruler,  should  have  all  their  past 
sins,  disobedience,  and  rebellion  forgiven  them  ; 
and  if  for  the  future  they  lived  in  a  sincere  obe- 
dience to  his  law,  to  the  utmost  of  their  power, 
the  sins  of  human  frailty  for  the  time  to  come,  as 
well  as  all  those  of  their  past  hves,  should,  for  his 
Son's  sake,  because  they  gave  themselves  up  to 
him  to  be  his  subjects,  be  forgiven  them  ;  and  so 
their  faith,  which  made  them  be  baptized  into  huf 
name,  (that  is,  enrol  themselves  in  the  kingdom 
of  Jesus  the  Messiah,  and  profess  themselves  his 
subjects,  and  consequently  live  by  the  laws  of  his 
kingdom)  should  be  accounted  to"  them  for  righte- 
ousness :  that  is,  should  supply  the  defects  of  a 
scanty  obedience  in  the  sight  of  God;  who  count- 
ing this  faith  to  them  for  righteousness,  or  com- 
plete obedience,  did  thus  justify,  or  make  them 
just,  and  thereby  capable  of  eternal  life. 

148.  Now,  that  this  is  the  Aiith  for  which  God, 
of  his  free  grace,  justifies  sinful  man,  (for  it  is  God 
alone  that  justifieth,)  we  have  already  showed,  by 
observing  through  all  the  history  of  our  Saviour 
and  the  apostles,  recorded  in  the  evangelists,  and 
in  the  Acts,  what  he  and  his  apostles  preached 
and  proposed  to  be  behoved.  We  shall  show  now, 
that  besides  believing  him  to  be  the  Messiah  their 


52 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


king,  it  was  further  required,  that  those  who  would 
have  the  privilege,  advantage,  and  deliverance  of 
his  kingdom,  should  enter  tnemselves  into  it ;  and 
by  baptism  being  made  denizens,  and  solemnly  in- 
corporated into  that  kingdom,  live  as  became  sub- 
jects obedient  to  the  laws  of  it :  for  if  they  be- 
lieved him  to  be  their  Messiah,  the  king,  but  would 
not  obey  his  laws,  and  would  not  have  him  to 
reign  over  them,  they  were  but  the  greater  re- 
bels ;  and  God  would  not  justify  them  for  a  faith 
that  did  but  increase  their  guilt,  and  oppose  dia- 
metrically the  kingdom  and  design  of  the  Messiah 
"  who  gave  himself  for  us,  that  he  might  redeem 
us  from  all  iniquity,  and  purify  imto  himself  a  pe- 
culiar people,  zealous  of  good  works,"  Titus  ii.  14. 
And  therefore  St.  Paul  tolls  the  Galatians,  that 
that  which  avaUeth  is  faith  ;  but  "  faith  working 
by  love  :"  and  that  "faith  without  works,"  that  is, 
the  works  of  sincere  obedience  to  the  law  and 
will  of  Christ,  is  not  sufficient  for  our  justification, 
St.  James  shows  at  large,  chap.  ii. 

144.  Neither  indeed  could  it  be  otherwise  ;  for 
life,  eternal  hfe,  being  the  reward  of  justice  or 
righteousness  only,  appointed  by  the  righteous  God 
(who  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold  iniquity)  to 
those  only  who  liad  no  taint  or  infection  of  sin 
upon  them,  it  is  impossible  that  he  should  justify 
those  who  had  no  regard  to  justice  at  all,  whatever 
they  believed.  This  would  have  been  to  encour- 
age iniquity,  contrary  to  the  purity  of  his  nature, 
and  to  have  condemned  that  eternal  law  of  right 
which  is  holy,  just,  and  good :  of  which  no  one 
precept  or  rule  is  abrogated  or  repealed,  nor  in- 
deed can  be,  whilst  God  is  an  holy,  just,  and 
righteous  God,  and  man  a  rational  creature.  The 
duties  of  that  law,  arising  from  the  constitution  of 
his  very  nature,  are  of  eternal  obligation ;  nor  can 
it  be  taken  away,  or  dispensed  with,  without  chang- 
ing the  nature  of  things,  or  overturning  the  mea- 
sures of  right  and  wrong,  and  thereby  introducing 
and  authorizing  irregularity,  confusion,  and  disor- 
der in  the  world.  Christ's  coming  into  the  world 
was  not  for  such  an  end  as  that ;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, to  reform  the  corrupt  state  of  degenerate 
man,  and  out  of  those  who  would  mend  their  lives, 
and  bring  forth  fruit  meet  for  repentance,  erect  a 
new  kingdom. 

145.  This  is  the  law  of  that  kingdom,  as  well  as 
of  all  mankind  ;  and  that  law  by  which  all  men 
shall  be  judged  at  the  last  day.  Only  those  who 
have  believed  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah,  and  have 
taken  him  to  be  their  king,  with  a  sincere  endea- 
vour after  righteousness,  in  obeying  his  law,  shall 
have  their  past  sins  not  imputed  to  them ;  and 
shall  have  that  faith  taken  instead  of  obedience^ 
where  frailty  and  weakness  made  them  transgress; 
and  sin  prevailed  after  conversion  in  those  who 
hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness,  (or  perfeclj 
obedience,)  and  do  not  allow  themselves  in  acts  oj' 
disobedience  and  rebellion,  against  the  laws  of  that 
kingdom  they  are  entered  into.  He  did  not  ex-t 
pect,  it  is  true,  a  perfect  obedience,  void  of  all  slip* 
and  falls ;  he  knew  our  make,  and  the  weakness  of 
our  constitutions  too  well,  and  was  sent  with  a  sup- 
ply for  that  defect.  Besides,  perfect  obedience 
was  the  righteousness  of  the  law  of  works  ;  and 
then  the  reward  would  be  of  debt,  and  not  of  grace ; 
and  to  such  there  was  no  need  of  faith  to  be  im- 
puted  to  them  for  righteousness.  They  stood  upon 


i.-, 


their  own  legs,  were  just  already,  and  needed  no 
allowance  to  be  made  them  for  believing  Jesus  to 
be  the  Messiah,  taking  him  for  their  king,  and 
becoming  his  subjects.  But  that  Christ  does  re- 
quire obedience,  sincere  obedience,  is  evident  from 
the  laws  he  himself  delivers,  (unless  he  can  be  sup- 
posed to  give  and  inculcate  laws  only  to  have  them 
disobeyed,)  and  from  the  sentence  he  will  pass 
when  he  comes  to  judge. 

146.  The  faith  required  was,  to  believe  Jesus  to 
be  the  Messiah,  the  anointed,  who  had  been  pro- 
mised by  God  to  the  world.  Amongst  the  Jews  (to 
whom  the  promises  and  prophecies  of  the  Messiah 
were  more  immediately  delivered)  anointing  was 
used  to  three  sorts  of  persons  at  their  inauguration, 
whereby  they  were  set  apart  to  three  great  offices, 
viz.,  of  priests,  prophets,  and  kings.  Though  these 
three  offices  be  in  holy  writ  attributed  to  our  Sa- 
viour,  yet  I  do  not  remember  that  he  any  where 
assumes  to  himself  the  title  of  a  priest,  or  mentions 
any  thing  relating  to  his  priesthood ;  nor  does  he 
speak  of  his  being  a  prophet  but  very  sparingly, 
and  once  or  twice,  as  it  were,  by  the  by  :  but  the 
gospel,  or  the  good  news  of  the  kingdom  of  the 
Messiah,  is  what  he  preaches  every  where,  and 
makes  it  his  great  business  to  publish  to  the  world. 
This  he  did,  not  only  as  most  agreeable  to  the  ex- 
pectation of  the  Jews,  who  looked  for  their  Mes- 
siah chiefly  as  coming  in  power  to  be  their  king 
and  deliverer ;  but  as  it  best  answered  tlie  chief 
end  of  his  coming,  which  was  to  be  a  king,  and  as 
such  to  be  received  by  those  who  would  be  his  sub- 
jects in  the  kingdom  which  he  came  to  erect. 
And  though  he  took  not  directly  on  himself  the 
title  of  king  till  he  was  in  custody,  and  in  the  hands 
of  Pilate,  yet  it  is  plain  king,  and  king  of  Israel, 
were  the  familiar  and  received  titles  of  the  Mes- 
siah.* What  those  were  to  do,  who  believed  him 
to  be  the  Messiah,  and  received  him  for  their  king, 
that  they  might  be  admitted  to  be  partakers  with 
him  of  his  kingdom  in  glory,  we  shall  best  know  by 
the  laws  he  gives  them,  and  requires  them  to  obey ; 
and  by  the  sentence  which  he  himself  will  give, 
when,  sitting  on  his  throne,  they  shall  all  appear  at 
his  tribunal,  to  receive  every  one  his  doom  from 
the  mouth  of  this  righteous  Judge  of  all  men. 

147.  What  he  proposes  to  his  followers  to  be 
believed,  we  have  already  seen,  by  examining  his, 
and  his  apostles'  preaching,  step  by  step,  all 
through  the  history  of  the  four  evangelists,  and 
the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  The  same  method  will 
best  and  plainest  show  us,  whether  he  required  of 
those  who  believed  him  to  be  the  Messiah,  any 
thing  besides  that  faith,  and  what  it  was.  For  ho 
being  a  king,  we  shall  see  by  his  commands  what 
he  expects  from  his  subjects  :  for  if  he  did  not  ex- 
pect obedience  to  them,  his  commands  would  be 
but  mere  mockery  ;  and  if  there  were  no  punish- 
ment for  the  transgressors  of  them,  his  laws  would 
not  be  the  laws  of  a  king,  that  had  authority  to 
command,  and  power  to  chastise  the  disobedient ; 
but  empty  talk,  without  force,  and  without  influ- 
ence. 


*  See  John  i.  50 ;  Luke  xix.  38,  compared  with 
Matt.  xxi.  9,  and  Mark  xi.  9;  John  xii.  13;  Mait. 
xxi.  5;  Luke  xxiii.  2,  compared  with  Matt,  xxvii. 
11,  and  John  xviii.  33,  37;  Mark  xv.  12,  compared 
with  Matt,  xxvii.  22 ;  Matt,  xxvii.  42. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OP    CHRISTIANITY. 


53 


148.  We  shall  therefore,  ffom  his  injunctions,  (if 
any  such  there  be,)  see  what  he  has  made  neces- 
sary to  be  peribrmed,  by  all  those  who  shall  be  re- 
ceived into  eternal  lite  in  his  kingdom  prepared  in 
the  heavens  :  and  in  this  we  cannot  be  deceived. 
What  we  have  from  his  own  mouth,  especially  if 
repeated  over  and  over  again,  in  different  places 
and  expressions,  will  be  past  doubt  and  controver- 
sy. I  shall  pass  by  all  that  is  said  by  St.  John 
Baptist,  or  any  other,  before  our  Saviour's  entry 
upon  his  ministry  and  public  promulgation  of  the 
laws  of  his  kingdom.  He  began  his  preaching 
with  a  command  to  repent ;  as  St.  Matthews  tells 
us:  "  From  that  time  Jesus  began  to  preach;  say- 
ing. Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at 
hand :"  and,  Luke  v.  32,  he  tells  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees,  "I  come  not  to  call  the  righteous," 
(those  who  were  truly  so,  needed  no  help  ;  they 
had  a  right  to  the  tree  of  life,)  "  but  sinners  to  re- 
pentance." 

149.  In  his  sermon,  as  it  is  called,  in  the  mount, 
he  commands  they  should  be  exemplary  in  good 
works.  "  Let  your  light  so  shine  amongst  men, 
that  they  may  see  your  good  works,  and  glorify 
your  Father  which  is  in  heaven."  And  that  they 
might  knovv  what  he  came  for,  and  what  he  expect- 
ed of  them,  he  tells  them,  "Think  not  that  I  am 
come  to  dissolve  or  loosen  the  law,  or  the  prophets  : 
I  am  not  come  to  dissolve  or  loosen,  but  to  make 
it  full,  or  complete  ;"  by  giving  it  you  in  its  true 
and  strict  sense.  Here  we  see  he  confirms,  and 
at  once  reinforces  all  the  moral  precepts  in  the 
Old  Testament.  "  For  verily  I  say  to  you,  till 
heaven  and  earth  pass,  one  jot  or  one  tittle  shall  in 
no  wise  pass  from  the  law,  till  all  be  done.  Who- 
soever, therefore,  shall  break  one  of  these  least 
commandments,  and  shall  teach  men  so,  he  shall 
be  called  the  least  (that  is,  as  it  is  interpreted, 
shall  not  be  at  all)  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  I  say 
unto  you,  that  except  your  righteousness,"  that  is, 
your  performance  of  the  eternal  law  of  right, 
"  shall  exceed  the  righteousness  of  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees,  ye  shall  in  no  case  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  :"  and  then  he  goes  on  to  make 
good  what  he  said,  "  that  he  was  come  to  complete 
the  law,"  viz.,  by  giving  its  full»and  clear  sense, 
free  from  the  corrupt  and  loosening  glosses  of  the 
Scribes  and  Pharisees.  He  tells  them,  that  not 
only  murder,  but  causeless  anger,  and  so  much  as 
words  of  contempt,  were  forbidden.  He  com- 
mands them  to  be  reconciled  and  kind  towards  their 
adversaries ;  and  that  upon  pain  of  condemnation. 
In  the  following  part  of  iiis  sermon,  which  is  to  be 
read,  Luke  vi.,  and  more  at  large.  Matt.  v.  vi.  vii., 
he  not  only  forbids  actual  uncleanness,  but  all  ir- 
regular desires,  upon  pain  of  hell-fire ;  causeless 
divorces,  swearing  in  conversation,  as  well  as  for- 
swearing in  judgment,  revenge,  retaliation,  osten- 
tation of  charity,  of  devotion,  and  of  fasting,  re- 
petitions in  prayer,  covetousness,  worldly  care, 
censoriousness  :  and  on  the  other  side,  commands 
loving  our  friends,  doing  good  to  those  that  hate 
us,  blessing  those  that  curse  us,  praying  for  those 
that  despitefuUy  use  us  ;  patience  and  meekness 
under  injuries;  forgiveness,  liberality,  compassion  : 
and  closes  all  his  particular  injunctions  with  this 
general  golden  rule :  "  All  things  whatsoever  ye 
would  have  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even 
so  to  them  :  for  this  is  the  law  and  the  prophets ." 

T8  (18) 


And  to  show  how  much  he  is  in  earnest,  and  ex- 
pects obedience  to  these  laws,  he  tells  them,  that 
if  they  obey,  "  great  shall  be  their  reward  ;  they 
shall  be  called  Uie  son?  of  the  Highest."*  And  to 
all  this,  in  the  conclusion,  he  adds  this  solemn 
sanction :  "  Why  call  ye  me  Lord,  Lord,  and  do 
not  the  thmgs  that  I  say  1"  It  is  in  vain  fur  you 
to  take  me  for  the  Messiah,  your  king,  unless  you 
obey  me.  "  Not  every  one  who  calls  me  Lord, 
Lord,  shall  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  or 
be  the  sons  of  God ;  but  he  that  doth  the  will  of 
my  J'ather  which  is  in  heaven."  To  such  disobe- 
dient subjects,  though  they  have  prophesied  and 
done  miracles  in  my  name,  I  shall  say  at  the  day 
of  judgment,  "  Depart  from  me,  ye  workers  of  ini- 
quity, I  knovv  you  not." 

150.  When  he  was  told  that  his  mother  and 
brethren  sought  to  speak  with  him,  "stretching  out 
his  hands  to  his  disciples,  he  said.  Behold  my 
mother  and  my  brethren  :  for  whosoever  shall  do 
the  will  of  my  Father,  who  is  in  heaven,  he  is  my 
brother,  and  sister,  and  mother."  They  could  not 
be  children  of  the  adoption,  and  fellow-heirs  with 
him  of  eternal  life,  who  did  not  do  the  will  of  his 
heavenly  Father.  Matt.  xv.  and  Mark  vii.,  the 
Pharisees  finding  fault,  that  his  disciples  eat  with 
unclean  hands,  he  makes  this  declaration  to  his 
apostles  :  "  Do  ye  not  perceive,  that  whatsoever 
from  without  entereth  into  a  man,  cannot  defile 
him  ;  because  it  enters  not  into  his  heart,  but  his 
belly.  That  which  cometh  out  of  the  man  that  de- 
fileth  the  man  :  for  from  within,  out  of  the  heart  of 
men,  proceed  evil  thoughts,  adulteries,  fornications, 
murders,  thefts,  false  witnesses,  covetousness,  wick- 
edness, deceit,  lasciviousne-ss,  an  evil  eye,  blas|)he- 
my,  pride,  foolishness.  All  these  ill  things  come 
from  within,  and  defile  a  man."  He  commands 
self-denial,  and  the  e.xposing  ourselves  to  suffering 
and  danger,  rather  than  to  deny  or  disown  him  ; 
and  this  upon  pain  of  losing  our  souls,  which  are 
of  more  worth  than  all  the  world.f 

151.  The  apostles  disputing  amongst  them  who 
should  be  greatest  in  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah, 
he  thus  determines  the  controversy  :  "  If  any  one 
will  be  first,  let  him  be  last  of  all,  and  servant  of 
all :"  and  setting  a  child  before  them,  adds,  "  Ve- 
rily I  say  unto  you,  unless  ye  turn,  and  become  as 
children,  ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven."  Matt,  xviii.  15,  "If  thy  brother  shall 
trespass  against  thee,  go  and  tell  him  his  fault 
between  thee  and  him  alone ;  if  he  shall  hear 
thee,  thou  hast  gained  thy  brother;  but  if  he  will 
not  hear  thee,  then  take  with  thee  one  or  two 
more,  that  in  the  mouth  of  two  or  three  witnesses 
every  word  may  be  established.  And  if  he  shall 
neglect  to  hear  them,  tell  it  to  the  church  ;  but  if 
he  neglect  to  hear  the  church,  let  him  be  unto 
thee  as  an  heathen  and  publican.  Peter  said, 
Lord,  how  often  shall  my  brother  sin  against  me, 
and  I  forgive  him  ?  till  seven  times?  Jesus  said 
unto  him,  I  say  not  unto  thee  till  seven  times,  but 
until  seventy  times  seven."  And  then  ends  the 
parable  of  the  servant,  who  being  himself  forgiven, 
was  rigorous  to  his  fellow-servant,  with  tiiese 
words  : — "  And  his  lord  was  wratli,  and  delivered 


*  Luke  vi.  35. 

t  This  we  may  read.  Matt.  xvi.  24,  27,  and  the 
parallel  places.  Matt.  viii.  and  Luke  ix. 


54 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


him  to  the  tormentors,  till  he  should  pay  all  that 
was  due  unto  him.  So  likewise  shall  my  heavenly 
Father  do  also  unto  you,  if  you  from  your  hearts 
forffive  not  every  one  his  brother  their  trespasses." 
Luke  X,  25,  to  the  lawyer,  asking  him, — "  What 
sliall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal  life  ?  he  said,  Wliat  is 
written  in  the  law?  How  readest  thou!  He  an- 
swered, Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  tliy  God  with 
all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all 
thy  strength,  and  with  all  thy  mind;  and  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself."  Jesus  said,  "  This  do,  and 
thou  shalt  live."  And  when  the  lawyer,  upon  our 
Saviour's  parable  of  the  good  Samaritan,  was 
forced  to  confess,  that  he  that  showed  mercy  was 
his  neighbor, — Jesus  dismissed  him  with  this 
charge :  "  Go,  and  do  thou  likewise."  Luke  xi. 
41, — "  Give  alms  of  such  tilings  as  ye  have  :  be- 
hold, all  things  are  clean  unto  you."  Luke  xii. 
15, — «  Take  heed,  and  beware  of  covetousness. 
Be  not  solicitous  what  ye  sliall  eat,  or  what  ye 
ishall  drink,  nor  what  ye  shall  put  on ;"  be  not 
fearful  or  apprehensive  of  want,  "  for  it  is  your 
Father's  pleasure  to  give  you  a  kingdom.  Sell 
that  you  have  and  give  alms :  and  provide  your- 
selves bags  that  wax  not  old,  and  treasure  in  the 
heavens  that  faileth  not ;  for  where  your  treasure 
is,  there  will  your  heart  be  also.  Let  your  loins 
be  girded,  and  your  lights  burning  ;  and  ye  your- 
selves like  unto  men  that  wait  for  the  lord,  when 
he  will  return.  Blessed  are  those  servants,  whom 
the  lord,  when  he  cometh,  shall  find  watching. — 
Blessed  is  that  servant,  whom  the  lord  having 
made  ruler  of  his  household,  to  give  them  their 
portion  of  meat  in  due  season,  the  lord,  when  he 
cometh,  shall  find  so  doing.  Of  a  truth  I  say 
unto  you,  that  he  will  make  him  a  ruler  over  all 
that  he  hath.  But  if  that  servant  say  in  his  heart, 
my  lord  delayeth  his  coming,  and  shall  begin  to 
beat  the  men-servants  and  maidens,  and  to  eat 
and  drink,  and  to  be  drunken  ;  the  lord  of  that 
servant  will  come  in  a  day  when  he  looketh  not 
for  him,  and  at  an  liour  when  he  is  not  aware,  and 
will  cut  him  in  sunder,  and  will  appoint  him  his 
portion  with  unbelievers.  And  that  servant  who 
knew  his  lord's  will,  and  prepared  not  himself, — 
neither  did  according  to  his  will,  shall  be  beaten 
with  many  stripes :  for  he  that  knew  not,  and  did 
commit  things  worthy  of  stripes,  shall  be  beaten 
with  few  stripes  ;  for  unto  whomsoever  much  is 
given,  of  him  shall  be  much  required  ;  and  to 
whom  men  have  committed  much,  of  him  they  will 
ask  the  more."  Luke  xiv.  11 :  "  Whosoever  ex- 
alteth  himself  shall  be  abased;  and  he  that 
humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted."  Verse  12  : 
"  When  tliou  makest  a  dinner  or  supper,  call  not 
thy  friends,  or  thy  brethren,  neither  thy  kinsmen, 
nor  thy  neighbors,  lest  they  also  bid  thee  again, 
and  a  recompense  be  made  thee.  But  when  thou 
makest  a  feast,  call  the  poor  and  maimed,  the 
lame,  and  the  blind,  and  thou  shalt  be  blessed  ; 
for  they  cannot  recompense  thee  ;  for  thou  shalt 
be  recompensed  at  the  resurrection  of  the  just." 
Verse  SS  :  "  So  likewise,  whosoever  he  be  of  you 
that  is  not  ready  to  forego  all  that  he  hath,  he 
cannot  be  my  disciple."  Luke  xvi.  9 :  "I  say 
unto  you,  make  to  yourselves  friends  of  the  mam- 
mon of  unrighteousness,  that  when  ye  fail,  they 
may  receive  you  into  everlasting  habitations.  If 
ye  have  not  been  faithful  in  the  unrighteous  mam- 


mon, who  will  commit  to  your  trust  the  true  rich- 
es 1  And  if  ye  have  not  been  faithful  in  that 
which  is  another  man's,  who  shall  give  you  that 
which  is  your  own?"  Luke  xvii.  3:  "If  thy 
brother  trespass  against  thee,  rebuke  him ;  and  if 
he  repent,  forgive  him.  And  if  he  trespass  against 
thee  seven  times  in  a  day,  and  seven  times  in  a 
day  turn  again  to  thee,  saying,  I  repent,  thou 
shalt  forgive  him."  Luke  xviii.  1 :  "He  spoke  a 
parable  to  them  to  this  end,  that  men  ought  al- 
ways to  pray,  and  not  to  faint."  Verse  18:  "One 
comes  to  him,  and  asks  him,  saying,  Master,  what 
shall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal  life  ?  Jesus  said  to 
Iiim,  if  thou  wilt  enter  into  life,  keep  the  com- 
mandments. He  says,  which  ?  Jesus  said,  thou 
knowest  the  commandments :  Thou  shalt  not  kill; 
Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery ;  Thou  shalt  not 
steal ;  Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness  ;  Defraud 
not ;  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother,  and  thou 
shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.  He  said,  all 
these  have  I  observed  from  my  youth.  Jeeus 
hearing  this,  loved  him  ;  and  said  unto  him,  yet 
lackest  thou  one  thing : — sell  all  that  thou  hast, 
and  give  it  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  trea- 
sure in  heaven  :  and  come,  follow  me."  To  im- 
derstand  this  right,  we  must  take  notice,  tliat  this 
young  man  asks  our  Saviour  what  he  must  do  to 
be  admitted  effectually  into  the  kingdom  of  the 
Messiah?  The  Jews  believed  that  when  the 
Messiah  came,  those  of  their  nation  that  received 
him  should  not  die  ;  but  that  they,  with  those 
who,  being  dead,  should  then  be  raised  again  by 
him,  should  enjoy  eternal  hfe  with  him.  Our  Sa- 
viour, in  answer  to  this  demand,  tells  the  young 
man,  that  to  obtain  the  eternal  life  of  the  kingdom 
of  the  Messiah,  he  must  keep  the  commandments. 
And  then  enumerating  several  of  the  precepts  of 
the  law,  the  young  man  says  he  had  observed 
these  from  his  childhood  :  for  which,  the  text  tells 
us,  Jesus  loved  him.  But  our  Saviour,  to  try 
whether  in  earnest  he  believed  him  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah, and  resolved  to  take  him  to  be  his  king,  and 
to  obey  him  as  such,  bids  him  give  all  he  has  to 
the  poor,  and  come,  and  follow  him,  and  he  should 
have  treasure  in^ heaven.  This  I  look  on  to  be 
the  meaning  of  the  place :  tflis  of  selling  all  he 
had,  and  giving  it  to  the  poor,  not  being  a  standing 
law  of  his  kingdom,*  but  a  probationary  command 
to  this  young  man,  to  try  whether  he  truly  beheved 
him  to  be  the  Messiah,  and  was  ready  to  obey  his 
commands,  and  relinquish  all  to  follow  him,  when 
he,  his  prince,  required  it. 

152.  And  therefore  we  see,  Lul<e  xix.l4,  where 
our  Saviour  takes  notice  of  the  Jews  not  receiving 
him  as  the  Messiah,  he  expresses  it  thus  : — "  We 
will  not  liave  this  man  to  reign  over  us."  It  is 
not  enough  to  believe  him  to  be  the  Messiah,  un- 


♦  Doubtless  not;  yet  he  who  revels  in  superfluities 
while  his  poorer  brother  in  Christ  lacks  the  very  ne- 
cessaries of  life,  is,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  words, — 
7i(tt  a  Christian.  Few,  I  am  afraid,  are  inclined  to 
interpret  this,  and  similar  passages,  half  so  literally 
as  they  were  meant:  but,  if  Christ  never  intended 
we  should  sell  all,  and  give  it  to  the  poor,  which 
would  render  us  poorer  than  any  of  them,  he  doubt- 
less did  intend  we  should  suffer  them  to  partake  of 
what  we  have,  and  we  can  never  be  his  disciples  un- 
less we  do  so. — Ed. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY 


55 


Jess  we  also  obey  his  laws,  and  take  him  to  be  our 
king  to  rei^i  over  us.  Matt.  xxii.  11 — 13  :  He 
that  had  not  on  the  wedding  garment,  though  he 
accepted  of  the  invitation,  and  came  to  the  wed- 
ding, was  cast  into  outer  darkness.  By  the  wed- 
ding garment,  it  is  evident  good  works  are  meant 
here.  That  wedding  garment  of  line  linen,  clean 
and  white,  which  we  are  told  is  the  SiKati)ixaTa, 
"righteous  acts  of  the  saints  ;"*  or,  as  St.  Paul 
calls  it,  "  the  walking  worthy  of  the  vocation 
wherewith  we  are  called."t  This  appears  from 
the  parable  itself: — "The  kingdom  of  heaven," 
says  our  Saviour,  "is  like  unto  a  kmg  who  made 
a  marriage  for  his  son."  And  here  he  distinguishes 
those  who  were  mvlted  into  three  sorts : — 1. 
Those  who  were  invited,  and  came  not ;  that  is, 
those  who  had  tlie  gospel,  the  good  news  of  the 
kingdom  of  God  proposed  to  them,  but  believed 
not.  2.  Those  who  came,  but  had  not  on  a  wed- 
ding garment ;  that  is,  believed  Jesus  to  be  the 
Messiah,  but  were  not  new  clad  (as  I  may  so  say) 
with  a  true  repentance  and  amendment  of  life, 
nor  adorned  with  those  virtues  which  the  apostle, 
Col.  iii.,  requires  to  be  put  on.  3.  Those  who 
were  invited,  did  come,  and  had  on  the  wedding 
garment ;  that  is,  heard  the  gospel,  beheved  Jesus 
to  be  the  Messiah,  and  sincerely  obeyed  his  laws. 
These  three  sorts  are  plainly  designed  here, — 
whereof  the  last  only  were  the  blessed,  who  were 
to  enjoy  the  kingdom  prepared  for  them.  Matt, 
xxiii. :  "  Be  not  ye  called  Rabbi ;  for  one  is  your 
master,  even  the  Messiah,  and  ye  all  are  brethren. 
And  call  no  man  your  father  upon  the  earth  ;  for 
one  is  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven.  Neither 
be  ye  called  masters ;  for  one  is  your  Master, 
even  the  Messiah.  But  he  that  is  greatest 
amongst  you,  shall  be  your  servant ;  and  whoso- 
ever shall  exalt  himself,  shall  be  abased ;  and  he 
that  shall  humble  himself,  shall  be  exalted.  Luke 
xxi.  3-1 : — "  Take  heed  to  yourselves,  lest  your 
hearts  be  at  any  time  overcharged  with  surfeiting 
and  drunkenness,  and  cares  of  this  hfe."  Luke 
xxii.  25  :  "  He  said  unto  them,  The  kings  of  the 
Gentiles  exercise  lordship  over  them  ;  and  they 
that  exercise  authority  upon  them  are  called  bene- 
factors. But  ye  shall  not  be  so  :  but  he  that  is 
greatest  amongst  you,  let  him  be  as  the  younger ; 
and  he  that  is  chiet^  as  he  that  doth  serve."  John 
xiii.  34  :  "A  new  commandment  I  give  unto  you, 
that  ye  love  one  another ;  as  I  have  loved  you, 
that  ye  also  love  one  another :  by  this  shall  all 
men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye  love  one 
another."  This  command  of  loving  one  another, 
is  repeated  again,  chap.  xv.  12 — 17.  John  xiv. : 
"  If  ye  love  me,  keep  my  commandments.  He 
that  hath  my  commandments,  and  keepeth  them, 
he  it  is  that  loveth  me  ;  and  he  that  loveth  me, 
shall  be  loved  of  my  Father,  and  I  will  love  liim 
and  manifest  myself  to  him.  If  a  man  loveth  me, 
he  will  keep  my  words.  He  that  loveth  me  not, 
keepeth  not  my  sayings."  John  xv.  :  "  In  this  is  | 
my  Father  glorified,  that  ye  bear  much  fruit ;  so  ! 
shall  ye  be  my  disciples.  Ye  are  my  friends,  if 
ye  do  whatsoever  I  command  you." 

153.  Thus  we  see  our  Saviour  not  only  con- 
firmed the  moral  law,  and  clearing  it  from  the  cor- 
rupt glosses  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  showed 


the  strictness  as  well  as  obligation  of  its  injunc- 
tions;  but  moreover,  upon  occasion,  requires  the 
obedience  of  his  disciples  to  several  of  the  com- 
mands he  afresh  lays  upon  them,  with  the  enforce- 
ment of  unspeakable  rewards  and  punishments  in 
another  world,  according  to  their  obedience  or 
disobedience.  There  is  not,  I  think,  any  of  the 
duties  of  morality  which  he  has  not,  some  where 
or  other,  by  himself  and  his  apostles,  inculcated 
over  and  over  again  to  his  followers  in  express 
terms.  And  is  it  for  nothing  that  he  is  so  instant 
with  them  to  bring  forth  fruit  ]  Does  he  their 
king  command,  and  is  it  an  indifferent  thing  ?  Or 
will  their  happiness  or  misery  not  at  all  depend 
upon  it,  whether  they  obey  or  no  1  They  were 
required  to  believe  him  to  be  the  Messiah ;  which 
faith  is  of  grace  promised  to  be  reckoned  to  them 
for  the  completing  of  their  righteousness,  wherein 
it  was  defective  :  but  righteousness,  or  obedience 
to  the  law  of  God,  was  their  great  business, 
which,  if  they  could  have  attained  by  their  own 
performances,  there  would  have  been  no  need  of 
this  gracious  allowance  in  reward  of  their  faith ; 
but  eternal  life,  after  the  resurrection,  had  been 
their  due  by  a  former  covenant,  even  that  of 
works,  the  rule  whereof  was  never  abolished, 
though  the  rigor  was  abated.  The  duties  enjoined 
in  it  were  duties  still :  their  obligations  had  never 
ceased,  nor  a  wilful  neglect  of  them  was  ever  dis- 
pensed with ;  but  their  past  transgressions  were 
pardoned  to  those  who  received  Jesus,  the  promised 
Messiah,  for  their  king ;  and  their  future  shps  co- 
vered, if,  renouncing  their  former  iniquities,  they 
entered  into  his  kingdom,  and  continued  his  sub- 
jects, with  a  steady  resolution  and  endeavor  to-, 
obey  his  laws.  The  righteousness  therefore,  a  \ 
complete  obedience  and  freedom  from  sin,  are  still  \ 
sincerely  to  be  endeavored  after:  and  it  is  no  / 
where  promised,  that  those  who  persist  in  a  wilful 
disobedience  to  liis  laws,  shall  be  received  into  the  \ 
eternal  bhss  of  his  kingdom,  how  much  soever  J 
they  believe  in  him. 

154.  A  sincere  obedience,  how  can  any  one  doubt 
to  be,  or  scruple  to  caU,  a  condition  of  the  new 
covenant,  as  well  as  faith,  who  ever  read  our  Sa- 
viour's sermon  on  the  mount,  to  omit  aO  the  rest  ? 
Can  any  thing  be  more  express  than  these  words 
of  our  Lord :  "If  you  forgive  men  their  trespasses, 
your  heavenly  Father  will  also  forgive  you  ;  but  if 
ye  forgive  not  men  their  trespasses,  neither  will 
your  Father  forgive  your  trespasses  :"  and,  "  If  ye 
know  these  things,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  theml" 
This  is  so  indispensable  a  condition  of  the  new 
covenant,  that  believing  without  it  will  not  do, 
nor  be  accepted,  if  our  Saviour  knew  the  terms  on 
which  he  would  admit  men  into  life.  "  Why  call  ye 
me  Lord,  Lord,"  says  he,  "  and  do  not  the  things 
which  I  say?"*  It  is  not  enough  tobeUeve  him  to 
be  the  Messiah,  the  Lord,  without  obeying  him  : 
for  that  these  he  speaks  to  here  were  behevers  is 
evident  from  the  parallel  place,  where  it  is  record- 
ed :  "  Not  every  one  who  says  Lord,  Lord,  shall 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  but  he  that 
doth  the  will  of  my  Father,  which  is  in  heaven. "f 
No  rebels,  or  refractory  disobedient,  shall  be  ad- 
mitted there,  though  they  have  so  far  believed  in 
Jesus  as  to  be  able  to  do  miracles  in  his  name  ; 


*  Rev.  xix.  8. 


t  Ephes.  iv.  1. 


'  Luke  vi.  46. 


t  Matt.  vii.  21-33. 


56 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY 


as  is  plain  out  of  the  following  words ;  "  Many 
will  say  to  me  in  tliat  day,  Have  we  not  prophe- 
sied in  thy  name,  and  in  thy  name  have  cast  out 
devils,  and  in  thy  name  have  done  many  wonder- 
ful works  ]  And  then  will  I  profess  unto  them,  I 
never  knew  you  :  depart  from  me,  ye  workers  of 
iniquity !" 

155.  This  part  of  the  new  covenant  the  apostles 
also,  in  their  preaching  the  gospel  of  the  Messiah, 
ordinarily  joined  with  the  doctrine  of  faith.  St. 
Peter,  in  his  first  sermon.  Acts  ii.,  when  they  were 
pricked  in  heart,  and  asked,  "  What  shall  we  do  1" 
says,  verse  38,  "  Repent,  and  be  baptized  every  one 
of  you,  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  for  the  remis- 
sion of  sins."  The  same  he  says  to  them  again  in 
his  next  speech.  Acts  iv.  26  :  "  Unto  you  first,  God 
having  raised  up  his  Son  Jesus,  sent  him  to  bless 
you."  How  was  this  done  1  "  In  turning  away 
every  one  from  your  iniquities."  The  same  doc- 
trine they  preacli  to  the  high-priest  and  rulers  : 
"  The  God  of  our  fathers  raised  up  Jesus,  whom 
ye  slew  and  hanged  on  a  tree.  Him  hath  God 
exalted  with  his  right  hand,  to  be  a  prince  and  a 
Saviour,  for  to  give  i  epentance  to  Israel,  and  for- 
giveness of  sins  :  and  we  are  witnesses  of  these 
things,  and  so  is  also  the  Holy  Ghost,  whom  God 
hath  given  to  tjiem  that  obey  him."*  Acts  xvii. 
30  :  St.  Paul  tells  the  Atiienians,  that  now,  under 
the  gospel,  "  God  commandeth  all  men  every 
Avhere  to  repent."  Acts  xx.  21  :  St.  Paul,  in  his 
last  conference  with  the  elders  of  Ephesus,  pro- 
fesses to  have  taught  them  the  whole  doctrine  ne- 
cessary to  salvation.  "I  have,"  says  he,  " kept 
back  nothing  that  was  profitable  unto  you ;  but 
have  showed  you,  and  have  taught  you  publicly, 
and  from  house  to  house,  testifying  both  to  the 
Jews  and  to  the  Greeks  ;"  and  then  gives  an  ac- 
count what  his  preaching  had  been,  viz.  "  Re- 
pentance towards  God,  and  faith  towards  our  Lord 
Jesus,  the  Messiah."  This  was  the  sum  and  sub- 
stance of  the  gospel  which  St.  Paul  preached,  and 
was  all  that  he  knew  necessary  to  salvation,  viz. 
"  repentance,  and  believing  Jesus  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah ;"  and  so  takes  his  last  farewell  of  them  whom 
he  should  never  see  again,  verse  32,  in  these  words : 
"  And  now,  brethren,  I  commend  you  to  God,  and 
to  the  word  of  his  grace,  wliich  is  able  to  build  you 
up,  and  to  give  yon  an  inheritance  among  all  them 
that  are  sanctified."  There  is  an  inheritance 
conveyed  by  tlie  word  and  covenant  of  grace,  but 
it  is  only  to  those  who  are  sanctified. 

156.  Acts  xxiv.  24 :  When  Felix  sent  for  Paul, 
that  he  and  his  wife  Drusilla  might  hear  him,  con- 
cerning the  faith  in  Christ,  Paul  reasoned  of  righte- 
ousness, or  justice,  and  temperance  ;  the  duties  we 
owe  to  others,  and  to  ourselves,  and  of  the  judg- 
ment to  come  ;  till  he  made  Felix  to  tremble. 
Whereby  it  appears,  that  temperance  and  justice 
were  fundamental  parts  of  the  religion  that  Paul 
professed,  and  were  contained  in  the  faith  which 
he  preached.  And  if  we  find  the  duties  of  the 
moral  law  not  pr(:ss'cd  by  him  every  wliere,  wo 
must  remember,  that  most  of  his  sermons  left  upon 
record,  were  preached  in  their  synagogues  to  the 
Jews,  who  acknowledged  their  obedience  due  to 
all  the  precepts  of  the  law,  and  would  have  taken 
it  amiss  to  have  been  suspected  not  to  have  been 


Acts  V.  30. 


more  zealous  for  the  law  than  he ;  and  therefore  it 
was  with  reason  that  his  discourses  were  directed 
chiefly  to  what  they  yet  wanted,  and  were  averse 
to,  the  knowledge  and  embracing  of  Jesus,  their 
promised  Messiah.  But  what  his  preaching  ge- 
nerally was,  if  we  will  believe  him  himself,  we 
may  see.  Acts  xxvi.,  where,  giving  an  account  to 
king  Agrippa  of  his  hfe  and  doctrine,  he  tells  him, 
"  I  showed  unto  them  at  Damascus,  and  at  Je- 
rusalem, and  throughout  all  the  coasts  of  Judea, 
and  then  to  the  Gentiles,  that  they  should  re- 
pent and  turn  to  God,  and  do  works  meet  for  re- 
pentance." 

157.  Thus  we  see,  by  the  preaching  of  our  Sa- 
viour and  his  apostles,  that  he  required  of  those 
who  believed  him  to  be  the  Messiah,  and  received 
him  for  their  Lord  and  deliverer,  that  they  should 
live  by  his  laws  ;  and  that  (though  in  considera- 
tion of  their  becoming  his  subjects,  by  faith  in  him, 
whereby  they  believed  and  took  him  to  be  the 
Messiah,  their  former  sins  should  be  forgiven)  yet 
he  would  own  none  to  be  his,  nor  receive  them  as 
true  denizens  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  into  the  in- 
heritance of  eternal  life,  but  leave  them  to  the  con- 
demnation of  the  unrighteous,  who  renounced  not 
their  former  miscarriages,  and  lived  in  a  sincere 
obedience  to  his  commands.  What  he  expects 
from  his  follower^',  he  has  sufficiently  declared  as 
a  legislator  ;  and  that  they  may  not  be  deceived, 
by  mistaking  the  doctrine  of  faith,  grace,  free 
grace,  and  the  pardon  and  forgiveness  of  sins  and 
salvation  by  him,  (which  was  the  great  end  of  his 
coming,)  he  more  than  once  declares  to  them  for 
what  omissions  and  miscarriages  he  shall  judge 
and  condenm  to  death,  even  those  who  have  own- 
ed him,  and  done  miracles  in  his  name,  when  he 
comes  at  last  to  render  to  every  one  according 
to  what  he  had  done  in  the  flesh,  sitting  upon 
his  great  and  glorious  tribunal,  at  the  end  of  the 
world. 

158.  The  first  place  where  we  find  our  Saviour 
to  have  mentioned  the  day  of  judgment  is  John  v. 
28,  29,  in  these  words  :  "  The  hour  is  coming,  in 
which  all  that  are  in  their  graves  shall  hear  his 
[that  is,  the  Son  of  God's]  voice,  and  shall  come 
forth  ;  they  that  have  done  good,  unto  the  resur- 
rection of  life  ;  and  they  that  have  done  evil,  unto 
the  resurrection  of  damnation."  That  which  puts 
the  distinction,  if  we  will  believe  our  Saviour,  is 
the  having  "  done  good  or  evil ;"  and  he  gives  a 
reason  of  the  necessity  of  his  judging  or  condemn- 
ing those  "  who  have  done  evil,"  in  the  following 
words,  verse  30  :  "I  can  of  my  ownself  do  nothing. 
As  I  hear  I  judge,  and  my  judgment  is  just ;  be- 
cause I  seek  not  my  own  will,  but  the  will  of  my 
Father  who  hath  sent  me."  He  could  not  judge  of 
himself;  he  had  but  a  delegated  power  of  judging 
from  the  Father,  whose  vvdl  he  obeyed  in  it,  and 
who  was  of  purer  eyes  than  to  admit  any  unjust 
person  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Matt.  vii. 
22,23  :  Speaking  again  of  that  day,  he  telb  what 
his  sentence  will  be  :  "  Depart  from  me,  ye  work- 
ers of  iniquity."  Faith,  in  the  penitent  and  sin- 
cerely obedient,  supplies  the  defect  of  their  per- 
formances, and  so  by  grace  they  are  made  just. 
But  we  may  observe,  none  are  sentenced  or  pu- 
nished for  unbelief,  hut  only  for  their  misdeeds. 
They  "  are  workers  of  initiuit}',"  on  whom  the 
sentence  is  pronounced.     Matt.  xiii.  14 :  "  At  the 


The  reasonableness  of  Christianity. 


57 


end  of  the  world,  the  Son  of  man  shall  send  forth 
his  angels,  and  they  shall  gatlier  out  of  his  kingdom 
all  scandals,  and  them  which  do  iniquity,  and  cas 
them  into  a  furnace  of  fire  ;  there  shall  be  waihng 
and  gnashing  of  teeth."  And  again:  "The  angels 
shall  sever  the  wicked  from  among  the  just,  and 
shall  cast  them  into  the  furnace  of  fire."  Matt.  xvi. 
24  :  «  For  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  the  glory 
of  his  Father,  with  his  angels  ;  and  then  he  shall 
reward  every  man  according  to  his  works."  Luke 
xiii.  26  :  "Then  shall  ye  begin  to  say.  We  have 
eaten  and  drunk  in  thy  presence,  and  thou  hast 
taught  in  our  streets.  But  he  shall  say,  I  tell  you, 
I  know  you  not :  Depart  from  me,  ye  workers  of 
iniquity."  Matt.  xxv.  24 — 26  :  "  When  the  Son  of 
man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and  before  him  shall 
be  gathered  all  nations,  he  shall  set  the  sheep  on 
his  right  hand,  and  the  goats  on  his  left :  then 
shall  the  King  say  to  them  on  his  right  hand.  Come 
ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  pre- 
pared for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world  ; 
for  I  was  an  hungered,  and  ye  gave  me  meat ;  I 
was'  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  drink :  I  was  a 
stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in  ;  naked,  and  ye  clothed 
me  ;  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visited  me  ;  I  was  in  pri- 
son, and  ye  came  unto  me.  Then  shall  the  righte- 
ous answer  him,  saying,  Lord,  when  saw  we  thee 
an  hungered,  and  fed  thee?"  &c.  "And  the  King 
shall  answer,  and  say  unto  them,  Verily  I  say  unto 
you,  inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the 
least  of  these,  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto 
me.  Then  shall  he  say  unto  them  on  the  left 
hand.  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into  everlasting 
fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels :  for  I 
was  an  hungered,  and  ye  gave  me  no  meat ;  I 
was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  no  drink ;  I  was  a 
stranger,  and  ye  took  me  not  in ;  naked,  and  ye 
clothed  me  not ;  sick  and  in  prison,  and  ye  visited 
me  not.  Insomuch  that  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of 
these,  ye  did  it  not  to  me.  And  these  shall  go  into 
everlasting  punishment;  but  the  righteous  into 
life  eternal." 

159.  These,  I  think,  are  all  the  places  where 
our  Saviour  mentions  the  last  judgment,  or  de- 
scribes his  way  of  proceeding  in  that  great  day  ; 
wherein,  as  we  have  observed,  it  is  remarkable, 
that  every  where  the  sentence  follows  doing  or 
not  doing,  without  any  mention  of  believing,  or  not 
believing.  Not  that  any  to  whom  the  gospel  hath 
been  preached  shall  be  saved  without  believing 
Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah  ;  for  all  being  sinners, 
and  transgressors  of  the  law,  and  so  unjust,  are 
all  liable  to  condemnation,  unless  they  believe, 
and  so  through  grace  are  justified  by  God  for  this 
faith,  which  shall  be  accounted  to  them  for  riglite- 
ousness  :  but  the  rest,  wanting  this  cover,  this 
allowance  for  their  transgressions,  must  answer 
for  all  their  actions  ;  and  being  found  transgressors 
of  the  law,  shall,  by  the  letter  and  sanction  of  that 
law,  be  condemned,  for  not  having  paid  a  full  obe- 
dience to  that  law,  and  not  for  want  of  faith  ;  that 
is  not  the  guilt  on  wliich  the  punishment  is  laid, 
though  it  be  the  want  of  faith  which  lays  open 
their  guilt  uncovered,  and  exposes  them  to  the  sen- 
tence of  the  law  against  all  that  are  unrighteous. 

160.  The  common  objection  here  is,  if  all  shi- 
ners shall  be  condemned,  but  such  as  have  a  gra- 
cious allowance  made  them,  and  so  are  justified 
by  God  for  believmg  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah,  and 


so  taking  him  for  their  king,  whom  they  are  re- 
solved to  obey  to  the  utmost  of  their  power,  what 
shall  become  of  all  mankind  who  lived  before  our 
Saviour's  time,  who  never  heard  of  his  name,  and 
consequently  could  not  believe  in  him  ?  To  this 
the  answer  is  so  obvious  and  natural,  that  one 
would  wonder  how  any  reasonable  man  should, 
think  it  worth  the  urging.  Nobody  was,  or  can  be, 
required  to  beheve  what  was  never  proposed  to 
him  to  believe.  Before  the  fulness  of  tiine,  which 
God  from  the  council  of  his  own  wisdom  had  ap- 
pointed to  send  his  Son  in,  he  had,  at  several  times 
and  in  different  manners,  promised  to  the  people 
of  Israel  an  extraordinary  person  to  come,  who, 
raised  from  amongst  themselves,  should  be  their 
ruler  and  deliverer.  The  time,  and  other  circum- 
stances of  his  birth,  hfe,  and  person,  he  had,  in 
sundry  prophecies,  so  particularly  described,  and 
so  plainly  foretold,  that  he  was  well  known  and 
expected  by  the  Jews,  under  the  name  of  the  Mes- 
siah, or  Anointed,  given  him  in  some  of  these  pro- 
phecies. All  then  that  was  required  before  his 
appearing  in  the  world  was,  to  believe  what  God 
had  revealed,  and  to  rely  with  a  full  assurance  on 
God  for  the  performance  of  his  promise  ;  and  to 
believe,  that  in  due  time  he  would  send  them  the 
Messiah,  this  anointed  king,  this  promised  Saviour 
and  deliverer,  according  to  his  word.  This  faith  in 
the  promises  of  God,  this  relying  and  acquiescing 
in  his  word  and  faithfulness,  the  Almighty  takes 
well  at  our  hands,  as  a  great  mark  of  homage,  paid 
by  us  frail  creatures,  to  his  goodness  and  truth,  as 
well  as  to  his  power  and  wisdom  ;  and  accepts  it 
as  an  acknowledgment  of  his  peculiar  providence 
and  benignity  to  us.  And  therefore  our  Saviour 
tells  us,  John  xii.  44 :  "  He  that  believes  on  me, 
believes  not  on  me,  but  on  him  that  sent  me." 
The  works  of  nature  show  his  wisdom  and  power  : 
but  it  is  his  peculiar  care  of  mankind,  most  emi- 
nently discovered  in  his  promises  to  them,  that 
shows  his  bounty  and  goodness ;  and  consequently 
engages  their  hearts  in  love  and  affection  to  him. 
This  oblation  of  a  heart  fixed  with  dependence  on, 
and  affection  to  him,  is  the  most  acceptable  tribute 
we  can  pay  him  ;  the  foundation  of  true  devotion, 
and  life  of  all  religion.  What  a  value  he  puts  on 
this  depending  on  his  word,  and  resting  satisfied 
in  his  promises,  we  have  an  example  in  Abraham, 
whose  faith  "  was  counted  to  him  for  rigliteous- 
ness,"  as  we  have  before  remarked  out  of  Rom.  iv. 
And  his  relying  firmly  on  the  promises  of  God, 
without  any  doubt  of  its  performance,  gave  him 
the  name  of  the  father  of  the  faithful,  and  gained 
him  so  much  favor  with  the  Almighty,  that  he  was 
called  the  "friend  of  God;"  the  highest  and  most 
glorious  title  that  can  be  bestowed  on  a  creature. 
The  thing  promised  was  no  more  but  a  son  by  his 
wife  Sarah,  and  a  numerous  posterity  by  him,  which 
should  possess  the  land  of  Canaan.  These  were 
but  temporal  blessings,  and  (except  the  birth  of  a 
son)  very  remote,  such  as  he  should  never  live  to 
see,  nor  in  his  own  person  have  the  benefit  of;  but 
because  he  questioned  not  the  performance  of  it, 
but  rested  fullv  satisfied  in  the  goodness,  truth, 
and  faithfulness  of  God  who  had  promised,  it  was 
counted  to  him  for  righteousness.  Let  us  see  how 
St.  Paul  expresses  it :  "  Who  against  hope  believ- 
ed in  hope,  that  he  might  become  t!ie  father  of 
many  nations,  according  to  that  wtiich  was  spoken, 


58 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


So  shall  thy  seed  be  :  and  being  not  weak  in  his 
faith,  he  considered  not  his  own  body  now  dead, 
when  he  was  about,  an  hundred  years  old ;  neither 
yet  the  deadness  of  Sarah's  womb :  he  staggered 
not  at  the  promise  of  God  through  unbelief,  but 
was  strong  in  faith,  giving  glory  to  God ;  and  being 
fully  persuaded,  that  what  he  had  promised  he 
was  able  to  perform :  and  therefore  it  was  imputed 
to  him  for  righteousness."*  St.  Paul  having  here 
emphatically  described  the  strength  and  firmness 
of  Abraham's  faith,  informs  us,  that  he  thereby 
gave  glory  to  God ;  and  therefore  it  was  accounted 
to  him  for  righteousness.  This  is  the  way  that 
God  deals  with  poor  frail  mortals.  He  is  gra- 
ciously pleased  to  take  it  well  of  them,  and  give  it 
the  place  of  righteousness,  and  a  kind  of  merit  in 
his  sight,  if  they  believe  his  promises,  and  have  a 
steadfast  relying  on  his  veracity  and  goodness.  St. 
Paul  tells  us,  "  Without  faith  it  is  impossible  to 
please  God:"f  but  at  the  same  time  tells  us  what 
faith  that  is.  "  For,"  says  he,  "  he  that  cometh  to 
God,  must  believe  that  he  is  ;  and  that  he  is  a 
rewarder  of  them  that  diligently  seek  him."  He 
must  be  persuaded  of  God's  mercy  and  good  will 
to  those  who  seek  to  obey  him,  and  rest  assured  of 
his  rewarding  those  who  rely  on  him,  for  what- 
ever, either  by  the  hght  of  nature  or  particular 
promises,  he  has  revealed  to  them  of  his  tender 
mercies,  and  taught  them  to  expect  from  his  boun- 
ty. This  description  of  faith  (that  we  might  not 
mistake  what  he  means  by  that  faith  without 
which  we  cannot  please  God,  and  which  recom- 
mended the  saints  of  old)  St.  Paul  places  in  the 
middle  of  the  list  of  those  who  were  eminent  for 
their  faith,  and  whom  he  sets  as  patterns  to  the 
converted  Hebrews  under  persecution,  to  encour- 
age them  to  persist  in  their  confidence  of  deliver- 
ance by  the  coming  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  in  their 
belief  of  the  promises  they  now  had  under  the 
gospel :  by  those  examples  he  exhorts  them  not 
to  draw  back  from  the  hope  that  was  set  before 
them,  nor  apostatize  from  the  profession  of  the 
Christian  religion.  This  is  plain  from  verses  35 
— 38,  of  the  precedent  chapter  :  "  Cast  not  away 
therefore  your  confidence,  which  hath  great  re- 
compense of  reward.  For  ye  have  great  need  of 
persisting,"  or  perseverance,  (for  so  the  Greek 
word  signifies  here,  which  our  translation  renders 
patience,|)  "  that  after  ye  have  done  the  will  of 
God,  ye  might  receive  the  promise.  For  yet  a 
little  v/hile,  and  he  that  shall  come,  will  come,  and 
will  not  tarry.  Now  the  just  shall  hve  by  faith. 
But  if  any  man  draw  back,  my  soul  shall  have  no 
pleasure  in  him." 

161.  The  examples  of  faith  which  St.  Paul  enu- 
merates and  proposes  in  the  following  words, 
plainly  show,  that  the  faith  whereby  those  be- 
hevors  of  old  pleased  God,  was  nothing  but  a 
steadfast  reliance  on  the  goodness  and  faithfulness 
of  God,  for  those  good  things  which  either  the 
light  of  nature  or  particular  promises  had  given 
them  grounds  to  hope  for.  Of  what  avail  this 
faith  was  with  (Jod  we  may  see  :  "  By  faith  Abel 
offered  unto  God  a  more  excellent  sacrifice  than 
Cain  ;  by  which  he  obtained  witness  that  he  was 
righteous.     By  faith  Enoch  was  translated  that 


*  Rom.  iv.  18—22. 
t  See  Luke  viii.  15. 


t  Heb.  xi.  G. 


he  should  not  see  death  ;  for  before  his  translation 
he  had  this  testimony,  that  he  pleased  God. — 
Noah,  being  warned  of  God  of  things  not  seen  as 
yet,"  being  wary,  "  by  faith  prepared  an  ark,  to 
the  saving  of  his  house ;  by  the  which  he  con- 
demned the  world,  and  became  heir  of  the  righte- 
ousness which  is  by  faith."  And  what  it  was  that 
God  so  graciously  accepted  and  rewarded  we  are 
told,  verse  11 :  "  Through  faith  also  Sarah  herself 
received  strength  to  conceive  seed,  and  was  de- 
hvered  of  a  child,  when  she  was  past  age."  How 
she  came  to  obtain  this  grace  from  God  the  apos- 
tle tells  us:  "Because  she  judged  him  faithful 
who  had  promised."  Those  therefore  who  pleased 
God,  and  were  accepted  by  him  before  the  coming 
of  Christ,  did  it  oiJy  by  believing  the  promises, 
and  relying  on  the  goodness  of  God,  as  far  as  he 
had  revealed  it  to  them.  For  the  apostle,  in  the 
following  words,  tells  us,  verse  13 :  "  These  all 
died  in  faith,  not  having  received  (the  accomplish- 
ment of)  the  promises  ;  but  having  seen  them  afar 
off:  and  were  persuaded  of  them,  and  embraced 
them."  This  was  all  that  was  required  of  them, 
to  be  persuaded  of,  and  embrace  the  promises 
which  they  had.  They  could  be  persuaded  of  no 
more  than  was  proposed  to  them ;  embrace  no 
more  than  was  revealed,  according  to  the  promises 
they  had  received,  and  the  dispensations  they  were 
under.  And  if  the  faith  of  things  "  seen  afar  off;" 
if  their  trusting  in  God  for  the  promises  he  then 
gave  them  ;  if  a  behef  of  the  Messiah  to  come, 
were  sufficient  to  render  those  who  lived  in  the 
ages  before  Christ,  acceptable  to  God  and  righteous 
before  him,  I  desire  those  who  tell  us  that  God  will 
not  (nay,  some  go  so  far  as  to  say  cannot)  accept 
any  who  do  not  beheve  every  article  of  their  par- 
ticular creeds  and  systems,  to  consider,  why  God, 
out  of  his  infinite  mercy,  cannot  as  well  justify  man 
now  for  believing  Jesus  of  Nazareth  to  be  the  pro- 
mised Messiah,  the  king  and  deHverer,  as  those 
heretofore,  who  believed  only  that  God  would,  ac- 
cording to  his  promise,  in  due  time,  send  the  Mes- 
siah to  be  a  king  and  deliverer '] 

162.  There  is  another  difficulty  often  to  be  met 
with,  which  seems  to  have  something  of  more 
weight  in  it ;  and  that  is,  that  tliough  the  faith  of 
those  before  Christ  (beheving  that  God  would  send 
the  Messiah,  to  be  a  prmce,  and  a  Saviour  to  his 
people,  as  he  had  promised)  and  the  faith  of  those 
since  his  time  (believing  Jesus  to  be  that  Messiah, 
promised  and  sent  by  God)  shall  be  accounted  to 
them  for  righteousness ;  yet  what  shall  become  of 
all  the  rest  of  mankind,  who  having  never  lieard  of 
the  promise  or  news  of  a  Saviour,  not  a  word  of  a 
Messiah  to  be  sent,  or  that  was  come,  have  had 
no  thought  or  belief  concerning  him  1 

163.  To  this  I  answer,  that  God  will  require  of 
every  man  according  to  what  he  hath,  and  not  ac- 
cording to  what  he  hath  not.  He  will  not  expect 
ten  talents  where  he  gave  but  one  ;  nor  require 
any  one  should  beheve  a  promise  of  which  he  has 
never  heard.  The  apostle's  reasoning,  Rom.  x.  14, 
is  very  just :  "How  shall  they  believe  in  him  of 
whom  tiiey  have  not  heard]"  But  though  there 
be  many  who,  being  strangers  to  the  common- 
wealth of  Israel,  were  also  strangers  to  the  oracles 
of  God  committed  to  that  people  ;  many,  to  whom 
the  promise  of  the  Messiah  never  came,  and  so 
were  never  in  a  capacity  to  believe  or  reject  that 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


59 


l-evelation ;  yet  God  had,  by  the  light  of  reason,  re- 
vealed to  all  mankind,  who  would  make  use  of  that 
light,  that  he  was  good  and  merciful.  The  same 
spark  of  the  divine  nature  and  knowledge  in  man, 
which,  making  him  a  man,  showed  him  the  law  he 
was  under  as  a  man,  showed  him  also  the  way  of 
atoning  the  merciful,  kind,  compassionate  Author 
and  Father  of  him  and  his  being,  when  he  had 
transgressed  that  law.  He  that  made  use  of  this 
candle  of  the  Lord,  so  far  as  to  find  what  was  his 
duty,  could  not  miss  to  find  also  the  way  to  recon- 
ciliation and  forgiveness,  when  he  had  failed  of 
his  duty  ;  though,  if  he  used  not  his  reason  this 
way,  if  he  put  out,  or  neglected  this  light,  he 
might,  perhaps,  see  neither. 

164.  The  law  is  the  eternal,  immutable  standard 
of  right.  And  a  part  of  that  law  is,  that  a  man 
should  forgive,  not  only  his  children,  but  his  ene- 
mies, upon  their  repentance,  asking  pardon  and 
amendment ;  and  tlierefore  he  could  not  doubt  that 
the  author  of  this  law,  and  God  of  patience  and 
consolation,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  woidd  forgive 
his  frail  offspring,  if  they  acknowledged  their  faults, 
disapproved  the  iniquity  of  their  transgressions, 
begged  his  pardon,  and  resolved  in  earnest  for  the 
future  to  confirm  their  actions  to  this  rule,  which 
they  owned  to  be  just  and  right.  This  way  of  re- 
conciliation, this  hope  of  atonement,  the  light  of 
nature  revealed  to  them.  And  the  revelation  of 
the  gospel  having  said  nothing  to  the  contrary, 
leaves  them  to  stand  and  fall  to  their  own  Father, 
and  Master,  whose  goodness  and  mercy  is  over  all 
his  works.  I  know  some  are  forward  to  use  that 
place  of  the  Acts,  chap,  iv.,  as  contrary  to  this. 
The  words,  verses  10  and  13,  stand  thus  :  "  Be  it 
known  unto  you  all,  and  to  all  the  people  of  Israel, 
that  by  tlie  name  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth, 
whom  ye  crucified,  whom  God  raised  from  the 
dead,  even  by  him  doth  this  man  [that  is,  the  lame 
man  restored  by  Peter]  stand  here  before  you 
whole.  This  is  the  stone  which  was  set  at  nought 
bv  you  builders,  which  is  become  the  head  of  the 
corner.  Neither  is  there  salvation  in  any  other ; 
for  there  is  none  other  name  under  heaven  given 
among  men,  in  which  we  must  be  saved."  Which, 
in  short,  is,  that  Jesus  is  the  only  true  Messiah  ; 
neither  is  there  any  other  person  but  he  given  to 
be  a  mediator  between  God  and  man,  in  whose 
name  we  may  ask  and  hope  for  salvation. 

165.  It  will  here  possibly  be  asked,  Quorsum 
perditio  hccc?  What  need  was  there  of  a  Saviour  1 
What  advantage  have  we  by  Jesus  Christ  ]  It  is 
enough  to  justify  the  fitness  of  any  thing  to  be 
done,  by  resolving  it  into  the  wisdom  of  God,  who 
has  done  it,  though  our  short  views  and  narrow 
understandings  may  utterly  incapacitate  us  to  see 
that  wisdom,  and  to  judge  rightly  of  it.  We  know 
little  of  this  visible,  and  nothing  at  all  of  the  state 
of  that  intellectual  world,  wherein  are  infinite  num- 
bers and  degrees  of  spirits,  out  of  the  reach  of  our 
ken  or  guess  ;  and  therefore  know  not  what  trans- 
actions there  were  between  God  and  our  Saviour, 
in  reference  to  his  kingdom.  We  know  not  what 
need  there  was  to  set  up  a  head  and  a  chieftain,  in 
opposition  to  "  the  pnnce  of  this  world,  the  prince 
of  the  power  of  the  air,"  &c.  whereof  there  are 
more  than  obscure  intimations  in  Scripture  :  and 
we  shall  take  too  much  upon  us,  if  we  shall  call 
God's  wisdom  or  providence  to  account,  and  pertly 


condenin  for  needless,  all  that  our  weak  and,  per- 
haps, biassed  understandings  cannot  account  for. 

166.  Though  this  general  answer  be  reply 
enough  to  the  forementioned  demand,  and  such  as 
a  rational  man,  or  fair  searcher  after  truth,  will 
acquiesce  in ;  yet  in  tliis  particular  case,  the  wis- 
dom and  goodness  of  God  has  shown  itself  so  vi- 
sibly to  common  apprehensions,  that  it  hath  fur- 
nished us  abundantly  wherewithal  to  satisfy  the 
curious  and  inquisitive  ;  who  will  not  take  a  bless- 
ing, unless  they  be  instructed  what  need  they  had 
of  it,  and  why  it  was  bestowed  upon  them.  The 
great  and  many  advantages  we  receive  by  the 
coming  of  Jesus  the  Messiah,  will  show  that  it 
was  not  without  need  that  he  was  sent  into  the 
world.  The  evidence  of  our  Saviour's  mission 
from  heaven  is  so  great,  in  the  multitude  of  mira- 
cles he  did  before  all  sorts  of  people,  that  what  he 
delivered  cannot  but  be  received  as  the  oracles  of 
God,  ard  unquestionable  verity  ;  for  the  miracles 
he  did  were  so  ordered  by  the  divine  Providence 
and  wisdom,  that  they  never  were,  nor  could  be 
denied  by  any  of  the  enemies  cr  opposers  of 
Christianity. 

167.  Though  the  works  of  nature,  in  every  part 
of  them,  sufficiently  evidence  a  Deity,  yet  the  world 
made  so  little  use  of  their  reason,  that  they  saw 
him  not,  where  even  by  the  impressions  of  himself 
he  was  easy  to  be  found.  Sense  and  lust  blinded 
their  minds  in  some,  and  a  careless  inadvertency  in 
others,  and  fearful  apprehensions  in  most,  (who 
either  believed  there  were,  or  could  not  but  sus- 
pect there  might  be  superior  unknown  beings,) 
gave  them  up  into  the  hands  of  their  priests,  to  fill 
their  heads  with  false  notions  of  the  Deity,  and 
their  worship  with  foolish  rites,  as  they  pleased; 
and  what  dread  or  craft  once  began,  devotion  soon 
made  sacred,  and  religion  immutable.  In  this  state 
of  darkness  and  ignorance  of  the  true  God,  vice 
and  superstition  held  the  world ;  nor  could  any 
help  be  had  or  hoped  for  Jrom  reason,  vvhicli  could 
not  be  heard,  and  was  judged  to  have  nothing  to  do 
in  the  case ;  the  priests  every  where,  to  secure  their 
empire,  having  excluded  reason*  from  having  any 
thing  to  do  in  religion.  And  in  the  crowd  of  wrong 
notions,  and  invented  rites,  the  world  had  almost 
lost  the  sight  of  the  one  only  true  God.  The  ra- 
tional and  thinking  part  of  mankind,  it  is  true, 
when  they  sought  after  him,  found  the  one,  su- 
preme, invisible  God ;  but  if  they  acknowledged 
and  worshipped  him,  it  was  only  in  their  own 
minds.  They  kept  this  truth  locked  up  in  their 
own  breasts  as  a  secret,  nor  ever  durst  venture  it 
amongst  the  people,  much  less  the  priests,  those 


♦  But  by  false  pretenders  to  religion  reason  is  still 
in  a  great  measure  proscribed.  The  sketch  that 
follows  of  paganism  is  scarcely  correct :  in  many 
countries  of  antiquity  the  priests  gained  very  little 
by  their  false  religion  which  they  might  not  have 
gained  by  the  true  one.  Priests,  moreover,  were  far 
less  numerous  in  antiquity  than  in  modern  times, 
and  their  gains  were  infinitely  smaller.  The  reli- 
gion they  taught,  also,  was  better  than  none;  and, 
t^hoiigh  it  is  customary  to  abuse  priests,  perhaps,  if 
we  would  be  just,  we  should  acknowledge  that,  even 
in  pagan  times,  there  was  considerable  utility  in 
their  establishments,  which  kept  alive,  in  niany 

j  places,  the  flame  of  piety,  and  was  always  more  or 

'  less  favorable  to  virtue. — Ed. 


60 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


wary  guardians  of  their  own  creeds  and  profitable 
inventions.  Hence  we  see  that  reason,  speaking 
never  so  clearly  to  the  wise  and  virtuous,  had  never 
authority  enougli  to  prevail  on  the  multitude,  and 
to  persuade  the  societies  of  men  that  there  was 
but  one  God,  that  alone  was  to  be  owned  and  wor- 
shipped. The  belief  and  worship  of  one  God  was 
the  national  religion  of  the  Israehtes  alone ;  and, 
if  we  will  consider  it,  it  was  introduced  and  sup- 
ported amongst  that  people  by  revelation.  They 
were  in  Goshen,  and  had  light,  whilst  the  rest  of 
the  world  were  in  almost  Egyptian  darkness,  with- 
out God  in  the  world.  There  was  no  part  of  man- 
Jdnd  who  had  quicker  parts,  or  improved  them 
more  ;  that  had  a  greater  light  of  reason,  or  fol- 
lowed it  further  in  all  sorts  of  speculations,  than 
the  Athenians ;  and  yet  we  find  but  one  Socrates 
amongst  them,  that  opposed  and  laughed  at  their 
polytheisms  and  wrong  opinions  of  the  Deity ;  and 
we  see  how  they  rewarded  him  for  it.*  Whatsoever 
Plato  and  the  soberest  of  the  philosophers  thought 
of  the  nature  and  being  of  the  one  God,  they  were 
fain,  in  their  outward  worship,  to  go  with  the  herd, 
and  to  keep  to  the  rehgion  established  by  law  ; 
which  what  it  was,  and  how  it  had  disposed  the 
mind  of  these  knowing  and  quick-sighted  Grecians, 
St.  Paul  tells  us.  Acts  xviii. :  "Ye  men  of  Athens." 
says  he,  "  I  perceive  that  in  all  things  ye  are  too 
superstitious  :  for  as  I  passed  by,  and  beheld  your 
devotions,  I  found  an  altar  with  this  inscription,  To 
the  unknown  God.  Whom,  therefore,  ye  igno- 
rantly  worship,  him  declare  I  unto  you.  God  that 
made  the  world,  and  all  things  therein,  seeing  that 
he  is  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  dwelleth  not  in 
temples  made  with  hands  ;  neither  is  worshipped 
with  men's  hands,  as  though  he  needed  any  thing, 
seeing  he  giveth  unto  all  life,  and  breath,  and  all 
things  ;  and  hath  made  of  one  blood  all  the  nations 
of  men,  for  to  dwell  on  the  face  of  the  earth ;  and 
hath  determined  the  times  before  appointed,  and 
the  bounds  of  their  habitations  ;  that  they  should 
seek  the  Lord,  if  haply  they  might  feel  him  out, 
and  find  him,  though  he  be  not  far  from  every  one 
of  us."  Here  he  tells  the  Athenians,  that  they  and 
the  rest  of  the  world  (given  up  to  superstition) 
whatever  light  there  was,  in  the  works  of  creation 
and  providence,  to  lead  them  to  the  true  God,  yet 
they  few  of  them  found  liim.  He  was  every  where 
near  them ;  yet  they  were  but  like  people  groping 
and  feeling  for  something  in  the  dark,  and  did  not 
see  him  with  a  full  clear  daylight ;  "  but  thought 
the  godhead  like  to  gold,  and  silver,  and  stone, 
graven  by  art  and  man's  device." 

168.  In  this  state  of  darkness  and  error  in  re- 
ference to  the  true  God,  our  Saviour  found  the 
world.  But  the  clear  revelation  he  brought  with 
him,  dissipated  this  darkness ;  made  the  one  invi- 
sible true  God  known  to  the  world  ;  and  that  with 
such  evidence  and  energy,  that  polytheism  and 
idolatry  hath  no  where  been  able  to  withstand  it. 
But  wherever  the  preaching  of  the  truth  be  deli- 


*  Nevertheless,  among  the  Greek  philosophers, 
the  unity  of  God  was  clearly  enough  expressed  in 
their  writings  ;  and  it  is  supposed,  with  considera- 
ble probability,  that  this  was  the  true  secret  revealed 
in  the  mysteries,  the  knowledge  of  which  was  sup- 
posed to  secure  happiness  in  a  future  state.  Aristc- 
phaa,    Xtpiivn,  375.  Barpa;;^,  'l.'jl.  el  Brunck.  ad  loc. 


vered,  and  the  light  of  the  gospel  hath  come,  those 
mists  have  been  dispelled ;  and,  in  effect,  we  see 
that,  since  our  Saviour's  time,  the  behef  of  one 
God  has  prevailed  and  spread  itself  over  the  face 
of  the  earth.  For  even  to  the  light  that  the  Mes- 
siah brought  into  the  world  with  him,  we  must 
ascribe  the  owning  and  profession  of  one  God, 
which  the  Mahometan  religion  hath  derived  and 
borrowed  from  it.  So  that,  in  this  sense,  it  is  cer- 
tainly and  manifestly  true  of  our  Saviour,  what 
St.  John  says  of  him,  1  John  iii.  8  :  "For  this  pur- 
pose the  Son  of  God  was  manifested,  that  he 
might  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil."  This  light 
the  world  needed,  and  this  hght  it  received  from 
him — that  there  is  but  one  God,  and  he  eternal, 
invisible  ;  not  hke  to  any  visible  objects,  nor  to  bo 
represented  by  them. 

169.  If  it  be  asked,  whether  the  revelation  to 
the  patriarchs  by  Moses  did  not  teach  this,  and 
why  that  was  not  enough  ]  the  answer  is  obvious  ; 
that  however  clearly  the  knowledge  of  one  invisi- 
ble God,  maker  of  heaven  and  earth,  was  revealed 
to  them,  yet  that  revelation  was  shut  up  in  a  little 
corner  of  the  world,  amongst  a  people,  by  that  very 
law  which  they  received  with  it,  excluded  from  a 
commerce  and  communication  with  the  rest  of 
mankind.  The  Gentile  world,  in  our  Saviour's 
time,  and  several  ages  before,  could  have  no  attes- 
tation of  the  miracles  on  which  the  Hebrews  built 
their  faith,  but  from  the  Jews  themselves  ;  a  peo- 
ple not  known  to  the  greatest  part  of  mankind,  con- 
temned and  thought  vilely  of  by  those  nations  that 
did  know  them ;  and  therefore  very  unfit  and  unable 
to  propagate  the  doctrine  of  one  God  in  the  world, 
and  ditfuse  it  through  the  nations  of  the  earth,  by 
the  strength  and  force  of  that  ancient  revelation, 
upon  which  they  had  received  it.  But  our  Sa- 
viour, when  he  came,  threw  down  this  wall  of  par- 
tition, and  did  not  confine  his  miracles  or  message 
to  the  land  of  Canaan,  or  the  worshippers  at  Jeru- 
salem ;  but  he  himself  preached  at  Samaria,  and 
did  miracles  in  the  borders  of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  and 
before  multitudes  of  people  gathered  from  all  quar- 
ters. And  after  his  resurrection  sent  his  apostles 
amongst  the  nations,  accompanied  with  mu-acles, 
which  were  done  in  all  parts  so  frequently,  and  be- 
fore so  many  witnesses  of  all  sorts,  in  broad  day- 
light, that,  as  I  have  before  observed,  the  enemies 
of  Christianity  have  never  dared  to  deny  them ; 
no,  not  Julian  himself,  who  neither  wanted  skill 
nor  power  to  inquire  into  the  truth,  nor  would 
have  failed  to  have  proclaimed  and  exposed  it,  if 
he  could  have  detected  any  falsehood  in  the  history 
of  the  gospel,  or  found  the  least  ground  to  question 
the  matter  of  fact  published  of  Clirist  and  his  apos- 
tles. The  number  and  evidence  of  the  miracles 
done  by  our  Saviour  and  his  followers,  by  the 
power  and  force  of  truth,  bore  down  this  mighty 
and  accomplished  emperor,  and  all  his  parts,  ui  his 
own  dominions.  He  durst  not  deny  so  plain  mat- 
ter of  fact ;  which  being  granted,  the  truth  of  our 
Saviour's  doctrine  and  mission  unavoidably  follows, 
notwithstanding  whatsoever  artful  suggestions  his 
wit  could  invent,  or  malice  should  offer  to  the  con- 
trary. 

170.  2.  Next  to  the  knowledge  of  one  God, 
maker  of  all  things,  a  clear  knowledge  of  then- 
duty  was  wanting  to  mankind.  This  part  of 
knowledge,  though  cultivated  with  some  care,  by 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OP    CHRISTIANITY. 


61 


some  of  the  heathen  philosophers,  yet  got  little 
footing  among  the  people.     All  men  indeed,  under 
pain  of  displeasing  the  gods,  were  to  frequent  the 
temples  ;  every  one  went  to  their  sacrifices  and 
services ;  but  the  priests  made  it  not  theirbusiness 
to  teach  them  virtue.     If  they  were  diligent  in 
their  observations  and  ceremonies — punctual  in 
their  feasts  and  solemnities,  and  the  tricks  of  reli- 
gion, the  holy  tribe  assured  them,  the  gods  were 
pleased  ;  and  they  looked  no  further.     Few  went 
to  the  schools  of  the  philosophers,  to  be  instructed 
in  their  duties,  and  to  know  what  was  good  and 
evil  in  their  actions.     The  priests  sold  the  better 
pennyworths,  and  therefore  had  all  their  custom. 
Lustrations  and  processions  were   much   easier 
than  a  clean  conscience,  and  a  steady  course  of 
virtue  ;  and  an  expiatory  sacrifice,  that  atoned  for 
the  want  of  it,  was  much  more  convenient  than  a 
strict  and  holy  life.     No  wonder,  then,  tliat  reli- 
gion was  every  where  distinguished  from,  and 
preferred   to  virtue,  and  that  it  was  dangerous 
heresy  and  profaneness  to  think  the  contrary.  So 
much  virtue  as  was  necessary  to  hold  societies 
together,  and  to  contribute  to  the  quiet  of  govern- 
ments, the  civil  laws  of  commonwealths  taught, 
and  forced  upon  men  that  lived  under  magistrates 
— but  these  laws,  being  for  the  most  part  made 
by  such  who  had   no  other  aims  but  their  own 
power,  reached  no  further  than  those  things  that 
would  serve  to  tie  men  together  in  subjection  ;  or, 
at  most,  were  directly  to  conduce  to  the  pros- 
perity and  temporal  happiness  of  any  people.  But 
natural  religion,  in  its  full  extent,  was  no  where, 
that  I  know,  taken  care  of  by  the  force  of  natural 
reason.     It  should  seem,  by  the  little  that  has 
hitherto  been  done  in  it,  that  it  is  too  hard  a  task 
for  unassisted  reason,  to  establish  morality,  in  all 
its  parts,  upon  its  true  foundations,  with  a  clear 
and  convincing  light.     And  it  is  at  least  a  surer 
and  shorter  way,  to  the  apprehensions  of  the  vul- 
gar, and  mass  of  mankind,  that  one  manifestly 
sent  from  God,  and  coming  with  visible  authority 
from  him,  should,  as  a  king  and  law-maker,  tell 
them  their  duties,  and  require  their  obedience, 
than  leave  it  to  the  long,  and  sometimes  intricate 
deductions  of  reason,  to  be  made  out  to  them, — 
such  strains  of  reasonings  the  greatest  part  of 
mankind  have  neither  leisure  to  weigh,  nor,  for 
want  of  education  and  use,  skill  to  judge  of.    We 
see  how  unsuccessful   in  this,  the    attempts   of 
philosophers  were,  before  our  Saviour's  time 
How  short  their  several  systems  came  of  the  per- 
fection of  a  true  and   complete  morality,  is  very 
visible.     And  if,  since  that,  the  Christian  phil- 
phers  have  much  outdone  them,  yet  we  may 
serve,  that  the  first  knowledge  of  the  truths  they 
have  added,  are  owing  to  revelation  ;  though,  as 
soon  as  they  are  heard  and  considered,  they  are 
found  to  be  agreeable  to  reason,  and  such  as  can 
by  no  means  be  contradicted.     Every  one  may 
observe  a  great  many  truths  which  he  receives  at 
first  from  others,  and  readily  assents  to  as  conso 
nant  to  reason,  which  he  would  have  found  it 
hard,  and  perhaps,  beyond  his  strength  to  have 
discovered  himself.     Native  and  original  truth  is 
not  so  easily  wrought  out  of  the  mine,  as  we,  who 
have  it  delivered  ready  dug  and  fashioned  into  our 
hands,  are  apt  to  imagine.     And  how  often  at 
fifty  or  threescore  years  old,  are  thinking  men 
70  (18) 


told  what  they  wonder  how  they  could  miss 
thinking  of!  which  yet  their  own  contemplations 
did  not,  and  possibly  never  would  have  helped 
them  to.  Experience  shows  that  the  knowledge 
of  morality,  by  mere  natural  light  (how  agreeable 
soever  it  be  to  it,)  makes  but  a  slow  progress,  and 
little  advance  in  the  world :  and  the  reason  of  it 
is  not  hard  to  be  found  in  men's  necessities,  pas- 
sions, vices,  and  mistaken  interests,  which  turn 
their  thoughts  another  way :  and  the  designing 
leaders,  as  well  as  the  following  herd,  find  it  not 
to  their  purpose  to  employ  much  of  their  medita- 
tions this  way :  or  whatever  else  was  the  cause, 
it  is  plain,  in  fact,  that  human  reason  unassisted, 
failed  men  in  its  great  and  proper  business  of 
morality.  It  never,  from  unquestionable  princi- 
ples, by  clear  deductions  made  out  an  entire  body 
of  the  law  of  nature.  And  he  that  shall  collect 
all  the  moral  rules  of  the  philosophers,  and  com- 
pare them  with  those  contained  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament, will  find  them  to  come  short  of  the  mo- 
rality delivered  by  our  Saviour,  and  taught  by  his 
apostles  :  a  college  made  up,  for  the  most  part,  of 
ignorant  but  inspired  fishermen. 

171.  Though  yet,  if  any  one  should  think  that, 
out  of  the  sayings  of  the  wise  heathens,  before 
our  Saviour's  time,  there  might  be  a  collection 
made  of  all  those  rules  of  morality,  which  are  to 
be  found  in  the  Christian  religion  ;  yet  this  would 
not  at  all  hinder,  but  that  the  world  nevertheless 
stood  as  much  in  need  of  our  Saviour,  and  the 
morality  delivered  by  him.  Let  it  be  granted 
(though  not  true)  that  all  the  moral  precepts  of 
the  gospel  were  known  by  somebody  or  other, 
amongst  mankind,  before.  But  where,  or  how,  or 
of  what  use,  is  not  considered.  Suppose  they 
may  be  picked  up  here  and  there  ;  some  from  So- 
lon and  Bias  in  Greece ;  others  from  Tully  in 
Italy ;  and,  to  complete  the  work,  let  Confucius, 
as  far  as  China,  be  consulted  ;  and  Anacharsis 
the  Scythian  contribute  his  share.  What  will  all 
this  do  to  give  the  world  a  complete  morality,  that 
may  be  to  mankind  the  unquestionable  rule  of  hfe 
and  manners  1  I  will  not  here  urge  the  impossi- 
bUity  of  collecting  from  men  so  far  distant  from 
one  another,  in  time  and  place,  and  languages.  I 
will  suppose  there  was  a  Stobseus  in  those  times, 
who  had  gathered  the  moral  sayings  from  all  the 
sages  of  the  world.  What  would  this  amount  to, 
towards  being  a  steady  rule,  a  certain  transcript 
of  a  law  that  we  are  under  1  Did  the  saying  of 
Aristippus  or  Confucius  give  it  an  authority? — 
Was  Zeno  a  lawgiver  to  mankind  ?  If  not,  what 
he  or  any  other  philosopher  delivered  was  but  a 
saying  of  his  :  mankind  might  hearken  to  it  cr 
reject  it,  as  they  pleased,  or  as  it  suited  their  in- 
terest, passions,  principles,  or  humors  :  they  were 
under  no  obligation  ;  the  opinion  oi  l'v°  or  that 
philosopher  was  of  no  authority  ;  and  if  it  were, 
you  must  take  all  he  said  under  the  same  charac- 
ter.  All  his  dictates  must  go  for  law,  certain  and 
true,  or  none  of  them.  And  then,  if  you  will 
take  any  of  the  moral  sayings  of  Epicurus  (many 
whereof  Seneca  quotes,  with  esteem  and  appro- 
bation) for  precepts  of  the  law  of  nature,  you 
must  take  all  the  rest  of  his  doctrine  for  such  too, 
or  else  his  authority  ceases  ;  and  so  no  more  is  to 
be  received  from  him,  or  any  of  the  sages  of  old, 
for  parts  of  the  law  of  nature,  as  carrying  with  it 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


an  obligation  to  be  obeyed  but  what  they  prove 
to  be  so.  But  such  a  body  of  ethics,  proved  to 
be  the  law  of  nature  from  principles  of  reason,  and 
reaching  all  the  duties  of  life,  I  think  nobody  will 
say  the  world  had  before  our  Saviour's  time.  It  is 
not  enough  that  there  were,  up  and  down,  scat- 
tered sayings  of  wise  men,  conformable  to  right 
reason.  The  law  of  nature  was  the  law  of  con- 
venience too ;  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  those  men 
of  parts,  and  studious  of  virtue,  (who  had  occa- 
sion to  think  on  any  particular  part  of  it,)  should 
by  meditation  light  on  the  right,  even  from  the 
observable  convenience  and  beauty  of  it,  without 
making  out  its  obligation  from  the  true  principles 
of  the  law  of  nature,  and  foundations  of  morality. 
But  these  incoherent  apothegms  of  philoso- 
phers and  wise  men,  however  excellent  in  them- 
selves, and  well  intended  by  them,  could  never 
make  a  morality,  whereof  the  world  could  be  con- 
vinced ;  could  never  rise  to  the  force  of  a  law  that 
mankind  could  with  certainty  depend  on.  What- 
soever should  thus  be  universally  useful,  as  a 
standard  to  which  men  should  conform  their  man- 
ners, must  have  its  authority  either  from  reason 
or  revelation.  It  is  not  every  writer  of  morals,  or 
compiler  of  it  from  others,  that  can  thereby  be 
erected  into  a  lawgiver  to  mankind;  and  a  dicta- 
tor of  rules,  which  are  therefore  valid,  because 
they  are  to  be  found  in  his  books,  under  the  au- 
thority of  this  or  that  philosopher.  He  that  any 
one  will  pretend  to  set  up  in  this  kind,  and  have 
his  rules  pass  for  authentic  directions,  must  show, 
that  either  he  builds  his  doctrine  upon  principles 
of  reason,  self-evident  in  themselves,  and  that  he 
deduces  all  the  parts  of  it  from  thence,  by  clear 
and  evident  demonstration  ;  or,  must  show  his 
commission  from  heaven,  that  he  comes  with  au- 
thority from  God,  to  deliver  his  will  and  command 
to  the  world.  In  the  former  way,  nobody  that  I 
know,  before  our  Saviour's  time,  ever  did," or  went 
about  to  give  us  a  m.orality.  It  is  true  there  is  a 
law  of  nature :  but  who  is  there  that  ever  did,  or 
undertook  to  give  it  us  all  entire,  as  a  law  ;  no 
more  nor  no  less  than  what  was  contained  in,  and 
had  the  obligation  of  that  law  1  Who  ever  made 
out  all  the  parts  of  it,  put  them  together,  and 
showed  the  world  their  obhgation'?  Where  was 
there  any  such  code,  that  mankind  might  have  re- 
course to,  as  their  unerring  rule,  before  our  Sa- 
viour's time  1  If  there  was  not,  it  is  plain,  there 
was  need  of  one  to  give  us  such  a  morality ;  such 
a  law,  which  might  be  the  sure  guide  of  those 
who  had  a  desire  to  go  right ;  and  if  they  had  a 
mind,  need  not  mistake  their  duty  ;  but  might  be 
certain  when  they  had  performed,  when  failed  in 
it.  Such  a  law  of  morality  Jesus  Christ  hath 
given  us  in  the  New  Testament ;  but  by  the  lat- 
ter of  these  ways,  by  revelation.  We  have  from 
him  a  full  and  sufficient  rule  for  our  direction,  and 
conformable  to  that  of  reason.  But  the  truth  and 
obligation  of  its  precepts  have  their  force,  and  are 
put  past  doubt  to  us,  by  the  evidence  of  his  mis- 
sion. He  was  sent  by  God  :  his  miracles  show  it 
— and  the  authority  of  God  in  his  precepts  can- 
not be  questioned.  Here  morality  has  a  sure 
standard,  that  revelation  vouches,  and  reason  can- 
not gainsay,  nor  question :  but  both  together  wit- 
ness to  come  from  God,  the  great  law-maker. — 
And  such  a  one  as  this  out  of  the  New  Testa- 


ment I  think  the  world  never  had,  nor  can  any 
one  say  is  any  where  else  to  be  found.  Let  me 
ask  any  one,  who  is  forward  to  tliink  that  the  doc- 
trine of  morahty  was  full  and  clear  in  the  world  at 
our  Saviour's  birth,  whither  would  he  have  di- 
rected Brutus  and  Cassius  (both  men  of  parts 
and  virtue;  the  one  whereof  behoved,  and  the 
other  disbelieved  a  future  bemg)  to  be  satisfied  in 
the  rules  and  obligations  of  all  the  parts  of  their 
duties,  if  they  should  have  asked  him  where  they 
might  find  the  law  they  were  to  live  by,  and  by 
which  they  should  be  charged  or  acquitted,  as 
guilty  or  innocent?  If  to  the  sayings  of  the  wise, 
and  the  declarations  of  philosophers,  he  sends 
them  into  a  wild  wood  of  uncertainty,  to  an  end- 
less maze,  from  which  they  should  never  get  out : 
if  to  the  rehgions  of  the  world,  yet  worse :  and  if 
to  their  own  reason,  he  refers  them  to  that  which 
had  some  hght  and  certainty ;  but  yet  had  hitherto 
failed  all  mankind  in  a  perfect  rule ;  and  we  see, 
resolved  not  the  doubts  that  had  arisen  amongst 
the  studious  and  thinking  philosophers ;  nor  had 
yet  been  able  to  convince  the  civilized  parts  of 
the  worid,  that  they  had  not  given,  nor  could, 
without  a  crime,  take  away  the  lives  of  their  chil- 
dren, by  exposing  them. 

173.  If  any  one  should  think  to  excuse  human 
nature,  by  laying  blame  on  men's  negligence,  that 
they  did  not  carry  morality  to  an  higher  pitch,  and 
make  it  out  entire  in  every  part,  with  that  clearness 
of  demonstration  which  some  think  it  capable  of» 
he  helps  not  the  matter.  Be  the  cause  what  it 
will,  our  Saviour  found  mankind  under  a  corrup- 
tion of  manners  and  principles,  which  ages  after 
ages  had  prevailed,  and  must  be  confessed  was  not 
in  a  way  or  tendency  to  be  mended.  The  rules  of 
morality  were,  in  different  countries  and  sects,  dif- 
ferent. And  natural  reason  no  where  had,  nor 
was  like  to  cure  the  defects  and  errors  in  them. 
Those  just  measures  of  right  and  wrong,  which 
necessity  had  any  where  introduced,  the  civil  laws 
prescribed,  or  philosophy  recommended,  stood  not 
on  their  true  foundations.  They  were  looked  on 
as  bonds  of  society,  and  conveniences  of  common 
life,  and  laudable  practices.  But  where  was  it  that 
their  obligation  was  thoroughly  known  and  allowed, 
and  they  received  as  precepts  of  a  law,  of  the  high- 
est law,  the  law  of  nature  1  That  could  not°be 
without  a  clear  knowledge  and  acknowledgment 
of  the  law-maker,  and  the  great  rewards  and  pu- 
nishments for  those  that  would  or  would  not  obey 
him.  But  the  religion  of  the  heathens,  as  was 
before  observed,  little  concerned  itself  in  their 
morals.  The  priests  that  delivered  the  oracles  of 
heaven,  and  pretended  to  speak  from  the  god, 
spoke  little  of  virtue  and  a  good  life.  And,  on  the 
other  side,  the  philosophers  who  spoke  from  rea- 
son, made  not  much  mention  of  the  deity  in  their 
ethics.  They  depended  on  reason  and  her  ora.. 
cles,  which  contain  nothing  but  truth  :  but  yet 
some  parts  of  that  truth  he  too  deep  for  our  na- 
tural powers  easily  to  reach,  and  make  plain  and 
visible  to  mankind,  without  some  light  from  above 
to  direct  them.  When  truths  are  once  known  to 
us,  though  by  tradition,  we  are  apt  to  be  favorable 
to  our  own  parts,  and  ascribe  to  our  own  under- 
standings the  discovery  of  what,  in  reality,  we 
borrowed  from  others  ;  or,  at  least,  finding  we  can 
prove  what  at  first  we  learned  from  others,  we  are 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


63 


forward  to  conclude  it  an  obvious  truth,  which,  if 
we  had  sought,  we  could  not  have  missed.  No- 
thing seems  hard  to  our  understandings  that  is 
once  known  :  and  because  what  we  see,  we  see 
with  our  own  eyes,  we  are  apt  to  overlook  or  for- 
get the  help  we  had  from  others,  who  showed  it 
us,  and  first  made  us  see  it ;  as  if  we  were  not  at 
all  beholden  to  them  for  those  truths  they  opened 
the  way  to,  and  led  us  into  :  for  knowledge  being 
only  of  truths  that  are  perceived  to  be  so,  we  are 
favorable  enough  to  our  own  faculties  to  conclude 
that  they,  of  their  own  strength,  would  have  attain- 
ed those  discoveries  without  any  foreign  assist- 
ance ;  and  that  we  know  those  truths  by  the 
strength  and  native  hght  of  our  own  minds,  as 
they  did  from  whom  we  received  them  by  theirs, 
only  they  had  the  luck  to  be  before  us.  Thus  the 
whole  stock  of  human  knowledge  is  claimed  by 
every  one  as  his  private  possession,  as  soon  as  he 
(profiting  by  others'  discoveries,)  has  got  it  into  his 
own  mind  :  and  so  it  is ;  but  not  properly  by  his 
own  single  industry,  nor  of  his  own  acquisition. 
He  studies,  it  is  true,  and  takes  pains  to  make  a 
progress  in  what  others  have  delivered ;  but  their 
pains  were  of  another  sort,  who  first  brought  those 
truths  to  light,  which  he  afterwards  derives  from 
them.  He  that  travels  the  road  now,  applauds 
his  own  strength  and  legs  that  have  carried  him  so 
far  in  such  a  scantling  of  time,  and  ascribes  all  to 
his  own  vigor,  httle  considering  how  much  he  owes 
to  their  pains,  who  cleared  the  woods,  drained  the 
bogs,  built  the  bridges,  and  made  the  ways  pass- 
able ;  without  which  he  might  have  toiled  much 
with  httle  progress.  A  great  many  things  which 
we  have  been  bred  up  in  the  belief  of,  from  our 
cradles,  and  are  notions  grown  famiUar,  (and,  as  it 
were,  natural  to  us,  under  the  gospel,)  we  take 
for  unquestionable  obvious  truths,  and  easily  de- 
monstrable ;  without  considering  how  long  we 
might  have  been  in  doubt  or  ignorance  of  them, 
had  revelation  been  silent.  And  many  are  be- 
holden to  revelation  who  do  not  acknowledge  it. 
It  is  no  dimmisliing  to  revelation,  tliat  reason  gives 
its  suffrage  too,  to  the  truths  revelation  has  dis- 
covered. But  it  is  our  mistake  to  think,  that  be- 
cause reason  confirms  them  to  us,  we  had  the  first 
certain  knowledge  of  tiieni  from  thence,  and  in 
that  clear  evidence  we  now  possess  of  them.  The 
contrary  is  manifest,  in  the  defective  morality  of 
the  Gentdes  before  our  Saviour's  time,  and  the 
want  of  reformation  in  the  principles  and  mea- 
sures of  it,  as  well  as  practice.  Philosophy  seem- 
ed to  have  spent  its  strength,  and  done  its  utmost ; 
or  if  it  should  have  gone  further,  as  we  see  it  did 
not,  and  ft-om  undeniable  principles  given  us  ethics 
in  a  science  like  mathematics,  in  every  part  de- 
monstrable,this  yet  would  not  have  been  so  effectual 
to  man  in  this  imperfect  state,  nor  proper  for  the 
cure.  The  greatest  part  of  mankind  want  leisure 
or  capacity  for  demonstration,  nor  can  carry  a 
train  of  proofs,  which  in  that  way  they  must  al- 
ways depend  upon  for  conviction,  and  cannot  be 
required  to  assent  to  till  they  see  the  demonstra- 
tion. Wherever  they  stick,  the  teachers  are  al- 
ways put  upon  proof,  and  must  clear  the  doubt, 
by  a  thread  of  coherent  deductions  from  the  first 
principle,  how  long,  or  how  intricate  soever  that 
be.  And  you  may  as  soon  hope  to  have  all  the 
day-laborers    and  tradesmen,  the  spinsters  and 


dairy-maids,  perfect  mathematicians,  as  to  have 
them  perfect  in  ethics  tliis  way  :  hearing  plain 
commands  is  the  sure  and  only  course  to  bring 
them  to  obedience  and  practice  ;  the  greatest  part 
cannot  know,  and  therefore  they  must  believe. 
And  I  ask,  whether  one  coming  from  heaven  in  the 
power  of  God,  in  full  and  clear  evidence  and  de- 
monstration of  miracles,  giving  plain  and  direct 
rules  of  morality  and  obedience,  be  not  likelier  to 
enlighten  the  bulk  of  mankind,  and  set  them  right 
in  their  duties,  and  bring  them  to  do  them,  than 
by  reasoning  with  them  from  general  notions  and 
principles  of  human  reason  ?  And  were  all  the 
duties  of  human  life  clearly  demonstrated,  yet  I 
conclude,  when  well  considered,  that  method  of 
teaching  men  their  duties  would  be  thought  pro- 
per only  for  a  few,  wlio  liad  much  leisure,  improv- 
ed understandings,  and  were  used  to  abstract 
reasonings ;  but  the  instruction  of  the  people 
were  best  still  to  be  left  to  the  precepts  and  prin- 
ciples  of  the  gospel.  The  healing  of  the  sick,  the 
restoring  sight  to  the  blind  by  a  word,  the  raising, 
and  being  raised  from  the  dead,  are  matters  of 
fact,  which  they  can  without  difficulty  conceive; 
and  that  he  who  does  such  things,  must  do  them 
by  the  assistance  of  a  divine  power.  These 
things  lie  level  to  the  ordinariest  apprehension  ; 
he  that  can  distinguish  between  sick  and  well, 
lame  and  sound,  dead  and  alive,  is  capable  of  this 
doctrine.  To  one  who  is  once  persuaded  that 
Jesus  Christ  was  sent  by  God  to  be  a  king,  and  a 
Saviour  of  those  who  do  believe  in  him,  all  his 
commands  become  principles ;  there  needs  no 
other  proof  for  the  truth  of  what  lie  says,  but  that 
he  said  it :  and  then  there  needs  no  more  but  to 
read  the  inspired  books  to  be  instructed  ;  all  the 
duties  of  morality  lie  there  clear  and  plain,  and 
easy  to  be  understood.  And  here  I  appeal,  whe- 
ther this  be  not  the  surest,  the  safest,  and  most 
effectual  way  of  teaching ;  especially  if  we  add 
this  further  consideration,  that  as  it  suits  the  low- 
est capacities  of  reasonable  creatures,  so  it  reaches 
and  satisfies,  nay,  enhghtens  the  highest.  The 
most  elevated  understandings  cannot  but  submit 
to  the  authority  of  this  doctrine  as  divine ;  which 
coming  from  the  mouths  of  a  company  of  illiterate 
men,  hath  not  only  the  attestation  of  miracles,  but 
reason  to  confirm  it,  since  they  delivered  no  pre- 
cepts but  such  as,  though  reason  of  itself  had  not 
clearly  made  out,  yet  it  could  not  but  assent  to 
when  thus  discovered,  and  think  itself  indebted  for 
the  discovery.  The  credit  and  authority  our  Sa- 
viour and  his  apostles  had  over  the  minds  of  men, 
by  the  miracles  they  did,  tempted  them  not  to 
mix  (as  we  find  in  that  of  all  the  sects  of  phUoso- 
phers,  and  other  religions)  any  conceits,  any 
wrong  rules,  any  thing  tending  to  their  own  by- 
interest,  or  that  of  a  party,  in  their  morality  :  no 
tang  of  prepossession  or  fancy  ;  no  footsteps  o 
pride  or  vanity  ;  no  touch  of  ostentation  or  ambi- 
tion appears  to  have  a  hand  in  it :  it  is  all  pure, 
all  sincere  ;  nothing  too  much,  nothing  waiiL:.-:^  : 
but  such  a  complete  rule  of  life,  as  the  wisest  men 
must  acknowledge,  tends  entir«ly  to  ti  e  good  of 
mankind ;  and  that  all  would  be  happy,  if  aJ  would 
practise  it. 

17,3.  S.  The  outward  forms  of  worshippmg  the 
Deity  wanted  a  reformation  :  stately  buildings, 
costly  ornaments,  peculiar  and  uncouth  liabits, 


64 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


and  a  numerous  liuddle  of  pompoue,  fantastical, 
cumbersome  ceremonies,  every  where  attended  di- 
vine worship.  T])is,  as  it  had  the  peculiar  name, 
so  it  was  thought  the  principal  part,  if  not  the 
whole  of  religion ;  nor  could  this  possibly  be 
amended  whilst  the  Jewish  ritual  stood,  and  there 
was  so  much  of  it  mixed  with  the  worship  of  the 
true  God.  To  this  also  our  Saviour,  with  the 
knowledge  of  the  infinite,  invisible,  supreme  Spi- 
rit, brought  a  remedy,  in  a  plain,  spiritual,  and 
suitable  worship.  Jesus  says  to  the  woman  of 
Samaria  :  "  The  hour  cometh,  when  ye  shall  nei- 
ther in  this  mountain,  nor  yet  at  Jerusalem,  wor- 
ship the  Father :  but  the  true  worshippers,  shall 
worship  the  Father  both  in  Spirit  and  in  truth ; 
for  the  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship."  To  be 
worshipped  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  with  application 
of  mind  and  sincerity  of  heart,  was  what  God 
henceforth  only  required.  Magnificent  temples, 
and  confinement  to  certain  places,  were  now  no 
longer  necessary  for  his  worship,  which  by  a  pure 
heart  might  be  performed  any  where.  The  splen- 
dor and  distinction  of  habits,  and  pomp  of  cere- 
monies and  all  outside  performances,  might  now 
be  spared.  God,  who  was  a  spirit,  and  made 
known  to  be  so,  required  none  of  those,  but  the 
spirit  only  ;  and  that  in  pubhc  assemblies,  (w^here 
some  actions  must  lie  open  to  the  view  of  the 
world,)  all  that  could  appear  and  be  seen,  should 
be  done  decently,  and  in  order,  and  to  edification. 
Decency,  order,  and  edification  were  to  regulate 
all  their  pubhc  acts  of  worship  ;  and  beyond  what 
these  required,  the  outward  appearance  (which 
was  of  little  value  in  the  eyes  of  God)  was  not  to 
go.  Having  shut  out  indecency  and  confusion  out 
of  their  assemblies,  they  need  not  be  solicitous 
about  useless  ceremonies :  praises  and  prayer 
humbly  otlered  up  to  the  Deity,  was  the  worship 
he  now  demanded ;  and  in  these  every  one  was 
to  look  after  his  own  heart,  and  know  that  it 
was  that  alone  which  God  had  regard  to,  and  ac- 
cepted. 

174.  4.  Another  great  advantage  received  by 
our  Saviour,  is  tlie  great  encouragement  he  brought 
to  a  virtuous  and  a  pious  life  ;  great  enough  to  sur- 
mount the  difficulties  and  obstacles  that  lie  in  the 
way  to  it,  and  reward  the  pains  and  hardships  of 
those  who  stuck  firm  to  their  duties,  and  sutfered 
for  the  testimony  of  a  good  conscience.  The  por- 
tion of  the  righteous  has  been  in  all  ages  taken 
notice  of  to  be  pretty  scanty  in  this  world  :  virtue 
and  prosperity  do  not  often  accompany  one  an- 
other, and  therefore  virtue  seldom  had  many  fol- 
lowers; and  it  is  no  wonder  she  prevailed  not 
much  in  a  state,  where  the  inconveniences  that 
attended  her  were  visible  and  at  hand,  and  the  re- 
wards doubtful  and  at  a  distance.  Mankind,  who 
are  and  must  be  allowed  to  pursue  their  happiness, 
nay,  cannot  be  hindered,  could  not  but  think  them- 
selves excused  from  a  strict  observation  of  rules, 
which  appeared  so  little  to  consist  with  their  chief 
end— ha])piness,  whilst  they  kept  them  from  the 
enjoyments  of  this  life  ;  and  they  had  httle  evi- 
dence and  security  of  another.*      It  is  true,  they 


i  ♦  This  IS  unjust  to  the  philosophers.  The  immor- 
tality of  tlie  soul  was  as  firmly  believed  then  as  it  is 
now  ;  and  the  same  virtues  were  supposed  to  secure 
happiness  in  a  future  state.    With  the  knowledge 


might  have  argued  the  other  waj'',  and  concluded, 
that,  because  the  good  were  most  of  them  ill- 
treated  here,  there  was  another  place  where  they 
should  meet  with  better  usage  ;  but  it  is  plain  they 
did  not.  Their  thoughts  of  another  life  were,  at 
best,  obscure,  and  their  expectations  uncertain. 
Of  manes,  and  ghosts,  and  the  shades  of  departed 
men,  there  was  some  talk  ;  but  little  certain,  and 
less  minded.  They  had  the  names  of  Styx  and 
Acheron,  of  Elysian  Fields  and  seats  of  the  bless- 
ed ;  but  they  had  them  generally  from  their  poets, 
mixed  with  their  fables,  and  so  they  looked  more 
hke  the  inventions  of  wit  and  ornaments  of  poetry 
than  the  serious  persuasions  of  the  grave  and  the 
sober.  They  came  to  them  bundled  up  amongst 
their  tales  ;  and  for  talcs  they  took  them.  And 
that  which  rendered  them  more  suspected,  and 
less  useful  to  virtue,  was,  that  the  philosophers 
seldom  set  on  their  rules  on  men's  minds  and  prac- 
tices by  consideration  of  another  life.  The  chief 
of  their  arguments  were  from  the  excellency  of 
virtue  ;  and  the  highest  they  generally  went,  was 
the  exalting  of  human  nature,  whose  perfection 
lay  in  virtue.  And  if  the  priest  at  any  time  talked 
of  the  ghosts  below,  and  a  life  after  this,  it  was 
only  to  keep  men  to  their  superstitious  and  idola- 
trous rites,  whereby  the  use  of  this  doctrine  was 
lost  to  the  credulous  multitude,  and  its  belief  to 
the  quicker  sighted,  who  suspected  it  presently  of 
priestcraft.  Before  our  Saviour's  time,  the  doc- 
trine of  a  future  state,  though  it  were  not  wholly 
hid,  yet  it  was  not  clearly  known  in  the  world. 
It  was  an  imperfect  view  of  reason  ;  or,  perhaps, 
the  decayed  remains  of  an  ancient  tradition,  which 
rather  seemed  to  float  on  men's  fancies,  than  sink 
deep  into  their  hearts.  It  was  something,  they 
knew  not  what,  between  being  and  not  being. — 
Something  in  man  they  imagined  might  escape 
the  grave  ;  but  a  perfect  complete  life  of  an  eter- 
nal duration,  after  this,  was  what  entered  little 
into  their  thoughts,  and  less  into  their  persuasions. 
And  they  were  so  far  from  being  clear  herein,  that 
we  see  no  nation  of  the  world  publicly  professed 
it,  and  built  upon  it ;  no  religion  taught  it  ;  and  it 
was  no  where  made  an  article  of  faith  and  princi- 
ple of  religion  till  Jesus  Christ  came  :  of  whom  it 
is  truly  said,  that  he  at  his  appearing  "  brought 
life  and  immortality  to  hght."  And  that  not  only 
in  the  clear  revelation  of  it,  and  in  instances  shown 
of  men  raised  from  the  dead,  but  he  has  given  us 
an  unquestionable  assurance  and  pledge  of  it  in 
his  own  resurrection  and  ascension  into  heaven. 
How  hath  this  one  truth  changed  the  nature  of 
things  in  the  world,  and  given  the  advantage  to 
piety  over  all  that  could  tempt  or  deter  men  from 
it !  The  philosophers,  indeed,  showed  the  beauty 
of  virtue  :  they  set  her  CiT  so  as  drew  men's  eyes 
and  approbation  to  her  ;  but  leaving  her  unen- 
dowed, very  few  were  willing  to  espouse  her. — 
The  generality  could  not  refuse  her  their  esteem 
and  commendation,  but  still  turned  their  backs  on 
her,  and  forsook  her,  as  a  match  not  for  their  turn. 
But  now  there  being  put  into  the  scales  on  her 
side,  "  an  exceeding  and  immortal  weight  of  glory," 


Locke  possessed  of  antiquity,  I  can  hardly  conceive 
how  he  could  write  this  passage,  which  is  in  contra- 
diction with  what  remains  to  us  of  genuine  ancient 
philosophy. — Ed. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


60 


interest  is  come  about  to  her ;  and  virtue  now  is  ; 
visibly  the  most  enriching  purchase  and  by  much 
the  best  bartrain.  That  she  is  the  perfection  and 
excellency  of  our  nature ;  that  she  is  herself  a 
reward,  and  will  recommend  our  names  to  future 
ages,  is  not  all  that  can  now  be  said  for  her.  It 
is  not  strange  that  the  learned  heathens  satisfied 
not  many  with  such  airy  commendations.  It  has 
another  relish  and  efficacy  to  persuade  mon,  that 
if  they  live  well  here,  they  shall  be  liappy  here- 
after. Open  their  eyes  upon  the  endless  unspeak- 
able joys  of  another  life,  and  their  hearts  will  find 
sometliing  solid  and  powerful  to  move  them.* — 
The  view  of  heaven  and  hell  will  cast  a  slight  upon 
the  short  pleasures  and  pains  of  this  present  state, 
and  ijive  attractions  and  encouragements  to  virtue, 
which  reason  and  interest,  and  the  care  of  our- 
selves, cannot  but  allow  and  prefer.  Upon  this 
foundation,  and  upon  this  only,  morality  stands 
firm,  and  may  defy  all  competition.  This  makes 
it  more  than  a  name,  a  substantia]  good,  worth  all 
our  aims  and  endeavors  ;  and  thus  the  gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ  hath  deHvered  it  to  us. 

175.  5.  To  these  I  must  add  one  advantage 
more  we  have  by  Jesus  Christ,  and  that  is,  the 
promise  of  assistance.  If  we  do  what  we  can,  he 
will  give  us  his  Spirit  to  help  us  to  do  what,  and 
how  we  should.  It  will  be  idle  for  us,  who  know 
not  how  our  own  spirits  move  and  act  us,  to  ask 
in  what  manner  the  Spirit  of  God  shall  work  upon 
us.  The  wisdom  that  accompanies  that  Spirit 
knows  better  than  we  how  we  are  made,  and  how 
to  work  upon  us.  If  a  wise  man  knows  how  to 
prevail  on  his  child,  to  bring  him  to  what  he  de- 
sires, can  we  suspect  that  the  Spirit  and  wisdom 
of  God  should  fail  in  it,  tliough  we  perceive  or 
comprehend  not  the  ways  of  his  operation  ?  Christ 
has  promised  it,  who  is  faithful  and  just,  and  we 
cannot  doubt  of  the  performance.  It  is  not  re- 
quisite, on  this  occasion,  for  tlie  enhancing  of  tliis 
benefit,  to  enlarge  on  the  frailty  of  minds,  and 
weakness  of  our  constitutions  ;  how  liable  to  mis- 
takes, how  apt  to  go  astray,  and  how  easily  to  be 
turned  out  of  the  paths  of  virtue.  If  any  one 
needs  go  beyond  himself  and  the  testimony  of  his 
ov/n  conscience  in  this  point ;  if  he  feels  not  his 
own  errors  and  passions  always  tempting  him,  and 
often  prevailing  against  the  strict  rules  of  his  duty, 
he  need  but  look  abroad  mto  any  age  of  the  world 
to  be  convinced.  To  a  man  under  the  difficul- 
ties of  his  nature,  beset  with  temptations,  and 
hedged  in  with  prevailing  custom,  it  is  no  small 
encouragement  to  set  himself  seriously  on  the 
courses  of  virtue,  and  practice  of  true  religion, 
that  he  is,  from  a  sure  hand,  and  an  almighty 
arm,  promised  assistance  to  support  and  carry  him 
through. 

176.  There  remams  yet  something  to  be  said  to 


*  In  the  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding;, 
however,  he  had  said : — "  Let  a  man  be  ever  so  well 
persuaded  of  the  advantages  of  virtue,  that  it  is  as 
necessary  to  a  man  who  has  any  great  aims  in  this 
world,  or  hopes  in  the  next,  as  food  to  life  ;  yet,  till 
he  hungers  and  thirsts  afier  righteousness,  till  he 
feels  an  uneasiness  in  the  want  of  it,  his  will  will  not 
be  determined  to  any  action  in  pursuit  of  this  con- 
fessed greater  good ;  but  any  other  uneasiness  he 
feels  in  himself  shall  take  place,  and  carry  his  will 
to  other  actions."    Book  ii.  ch.  21.  §  35.— Ed. 


those  who  will  be  ready  to  object,  if  the  belief  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  to  be  the  Messiah,  together 
with  those  concomitant  articles  of  his  resurrection, 
rule,  and  coming  again  to  judge  the  world,  be  all 
the  faith  required  as  necessary  to  justification,  to 
what  purpose  were  the  epistles  written  ;  I  say,  if 
the  belief  of  those  many  doctrines  contained  in 
them,  be  not  also  necessary  to  salvation  ]  And 
if  what  is  there  delivered,  a  Christian  may  believe 
or  disbelieve,  and  yet  nevertheless  be  a  member 
of  Christ's  church,  and  one  of  the  faithful  ?  To 
this  I  answer,  that  the  epistles  were  written  upon 
several  occasions  ;  and  he  that  will  read  them  as 
he  ought,  must  observe  what  it  is  in  them  is  prin- 
cipally aimed  at ;  find  what  is  the  argument  in 
hand,  and  how  managed,  if  he  will  understand 
them  right,  and  profit  by  them.  The  observing 
of  this  will  best  help  us  to  the  true  meaning  and 
mind  of  the  writer ;  for  that  is  the  truth  which  is 
to  be  received  and  believed,  and  not  scattered 
sentences  in  a  Scripture  language,  accommodated 
to  our  notions  and  prejudices.  We  must  look  into 
the  drift  of  the  discourse,  observe  the  coherence 
and  connection  of  the  parts,  and  see  how  it  is  con- 
sistent with  itself,  and  other  parts  of  Scripture,  if 
we  will  conceive  it  right.  We  must  not  cull  out, 
as  best  suits  our  system,  here  and  there  a  period 
or  a  verse,  as  if  they  were  all  distinct  and  inde- 
pendent aphorisms :  and  make  these  the  funda- 
mental articles  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  necessa- 
ry to  salvation,  unless  God  has  made  them  so. — 
There  be  many  truths  in  the  Bible,  which  a  good 
Christian  may  be  wholly  ignorant  of,  and  so  not 
believe,  which,  perhaps,  some  lay  great  stress  on, 
and  call  fundamental  articles,  because  they  are  the 
distinguishing  points  of  their  communion.  The 
epistles,  most  of  tliem,  carry  on  a  thread  of  argu- 
ment, which  in  the  style  they  are  written,  cannot 
every  where  be  observed  without  great  attention. 
And  to  consider  the  te.xts,  as  they  stand  and  bear 
a  part  in  that,  is  to  view  them  in  their  due  light, 
and  the  way  to  get  the  true  sense  of  them.  They 
were  written  to  those  who  were  in  the  faith,  and 
true  Christians  already  ;  and  so  could  not  be  de- 
signed to  teach  them  the  fundamental  articles  and 
points  necessary  to  salvation ;  the  epistle  to  the 
Romans  was  written  to  all  "  that  were  at  Rome, 
beloved  of  God,  called  to  be  the  saints,  whose  faith 
was  spoken  of  through  the  world,"  chapter  i.  7,  8. 
To  whom  St.  Paul's  first  epistle  to  the  Corinthians 
was,  he  shows,  chapter  i.  2,  4,  &c. :  "  Unto  the 
church  of  God,  which  is  at  Corinth,  to  them  that 
are  sanctified  in  Christ  Jesus,  called  to  be  sauits; 
with  all  them  that  in  every  place  call  upon  the 
name  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  both  theirs  and 
ours.  I  thank  my  God  always  on  your  behalf, 
for  the  grace  of  God  which  is  given  you  by  JesuEf 
Christ  C  that  in  every  thing  yo  are  enriched  by 
him  in  all  utterance,  and  in  all  knowledge  :  evei? 
as  the  testimony  of  Christ  was  confirmed  in  you. 
So  that  ye  come  behind  in  no  gift ;  waiting  for 
the  coining  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  And  sc 
likewise  the  second  was,  "  To  the  church  of  God 
at  Corinth,  with  all  the  saints  in  Achaia,"  chapter 
i.  1.  His  next  is  to  the  churches  of  Galatia. — 
That  to  the  Ephesians  was,  "  To  the  saints  that 
were  at  Ephesus,  and  to  the  faithful  in  Christ 
Jesus."  So  likewise,  "  To  the  saints  aiid  faithful 
brethren  at  Colosse,  who  had  faith  in  Christ 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


Jesus,  and  love  to  the  saints."  "  To  the  church 
of  the  Thessalonians."  «  To  Timothy,  his  son  in 
the  faith."  "To  Titus,  his  own  son  after  the 
common  faith."  "To  Philemon,  his  dearly  be- 
Joved,  and  fellow-laborer."  And  the  author  to  the 
Hebrews,  calls  those  he  writes  to,  "Holy  brethren, 
partakers  of  the  heavenly  calling,"  chapter  iii.  1. 
From  whence  it  is  evident,  that  all  those  whom 
St.  Paul  wrote  to,  were  brethren,  saints,  faithful 
in  the  church,  and  so  Christians  already,  and  there- 
fore wanted  not  the  fundamental  articles  of  the 
Christian  religion  ;  without  a  belief  of  which  they 
could  not  be  saved  :  nor  can  it  be  supposed,  that 
the  sending  of  such  fundamentals  was  the  reason 
of  the  apostle's  writing  to  any  of  them.  To  such 
also  St.  Peter  writes,  as  is  plain  from  the  first 
chapter  of  each  of  his  epistles.  Nor  is  it  hard  to 
observe  the  like  in  St.  James  and  St.  John's  epis- 
tles. And  St.  Jude  directs  his  thus  :  "  To  them 
that  are  sanctified  by  God  the  Father,  and  pre- 
served in  Jesus  Christ,  and  called."  The  epistles 
therefore  being  all  written  to  those  who  were  al- 
ready believers  and  Christians,  the  occasion  and 
end  of  writing  them  could  not  be  to  instruct  them 
in  that  which  was  necessary  to  make  them  Chris- 
tians. This  it  is  plain  they  knew  and  believed 
already  ;  or  else  they  could  not  have  been  Chris- 
tians and  believers.  And  they  were  written  upon 
particular  occasions  ;  and  without  those  occasions 
had  not  been  written,  and  so  cannot  be  thought 
necessary  to  salvation ;  though  they  resolving 
doubts,  and  reforming  mistakes,  are  of  great  ad- 
vantage to  our  knowledge  and  practice.  I  do  not 
deny,  but  the  great  doctrines  of  the  Christian  faith 
are  dropped  here  and  there,  and  scattered  up  and 
down  in  most  of  them.  But  it  is  not  in  the  epis- 
tles we  are  to  learn  what  are  the  fundamental  ar- 
ticles of  faith,  where  they  are  promiscuously,  and 
without  distinction,  niLxed  with  other  truths  in  dis- 
courses that  were  (though  for  edification  indeed, 
yet)  only  occasional.  We  shall  find  and  discern 
those  great  and  necessary  points  best  in  the  preach- 
ing of  our  Saviour  and  the  apostles,  to  those  who 
were  yet  strangers,  and  ignorant  of  the  faith,  to 
bring  them  in,  and  convert  them  to  it.  And  what 
that  was  we  have  seen  already,  out  of  the  history 
of  the  evangelists  and  the  Acts  ;  where  they  are 
plainly  laid  down,  so  that  nobody  can  mistake 
tliem.  The  epistles  to  particular  churches,  be- 
sides the  main  argument  of  each  of  them  (which 
was  some  present  concernment  of  that  particular 
church  to  which  they  severally  were  addressed) 
do  in  many  places  explain  the  fundamentals  of  the 
Christian  religion  ;  and  that  wisely,  by  proper  ac- 
commodations to  the  apprehensions  of  those  they 
were  written  to,  the  better  to  make  them  imbibe 
the  Christian  doctrine,  and  the  more  easily  to  com- 
preliend  the  method,  reasons,  and  grounds  of  the 
great  work  of  salvation.  Tims  we  see  in  the  epis- 
tle to  the  Romans,  adoption  (a  custom  well  known 
amongst  those  of  Rome)  is  much  made  use  of,  to 
explain  to  them  the  grace  and  favor  of  God,  in 
giving  them  eternal  life  ;  to  help  them  to  conceive 
how  they  became  the  children  of  God,  and  to  as- 
sure them  of  a  share  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  as 
heirs  to  an  inheritance.  Whereas  the  setting  out, 
and  confirming  the  Christian  faith  to  the  Hebrews, 
in  the  epistle  to  them,  is  by  allusions  and  argu- 
ments, from  the  ceremonies,  sacrifices,  and  econo- 


my of  the  Jews,  and  reference  to  the  records  of 
the  Old  Testament.  And  as  for  the  general  epis- 
tles, they,  we  may  see,  regard  the  state  and  exi- 
gencies, and  some  peculiarities  of  those  times. — 
These  holy  writers,  inspired  from  above,  wrote 
nothing  but  truth,  and  in  most  places  very  weighty 
truths  to  us  now ;  for  the  expounding,  clearing, 
and  confirming  of  the  Christian  doctrine,  and  es- 
tablishing those  in  it  who  had  embraced  it.  But 
yet  every  sentence  of  theirs  must  not  be  taken 
up  and  looked  on  as  a  fundamental  article,  neces- 
sary  to  salvation  ;  without  an  explicit  belief  where- 
of nobody  could  be  a  member  of  Christ's  church 
here,  nor  be  admitted  into  his  eternal  kingdom 
hereafter.  If  all,  or  most  of  the  truths  declared 
in  the  epistles,  were  to  be  received  and  believed 
as  fundamental  articles,  what  then  became  of  those 
Christians  who  were  fallen  asleep  (as  St.  Paul 
witnesses  in  his  first  epistle  to  the  Corinthians, 
many  were)  before  these  things  in  the  epistles 
were  revealed  to  them  ]  Most  of  tiie  epistles  not 
being  written  till  above  twenty  years  after  our 
Saviour's  ascension,  and  some  after  thirty. 

177.  But  further,  therefore,  to  those  who  will 
be  ready  to  say,  may  those  truths  delivered  in  the 
epistles,  which  are  not  contained  in  the  preaching 
of  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles,  and  are  therefore 
by  this  account  not  necessary  to  salvation,  be  be- 
lieved or  disbelieved  without  any  danger  ]  May  a 
Cluistian  safely  question  or  doubt  of  them "?  To 
this  I  answer,  that  the  law  of  faith,  being  a  cove- 
nant of  free  grace,  God  alone  can  appoint  what 
shall  be  necessarily  believed  by  every  one  w^hom 
he  will  justify.  What  is  the  faith  which  he  will 
accept  and  account  for  righteousness,  depends 
wholly  on  his  good  pleasure ;  for  it  is  of  grace, 
and  not  of  right,  that  this  faith  is  accepted.  And 
therefore  he  alone  can  set  the  measures  of  it ; 
and  what  he  has  so  appointed  and  declared  is 
alone  necessary.  Nobody  can  add  to  these  fun- 
damental articles  of  faith,  nor  make  any  other  ne- 
cessary, but  what  God  himself  hath  made  and  de- 
clared to  be  so.  And  what  these  are  which  God 
requires  of  tliose  who  will  enter  into,  and  receive 
the  benefits  of  the  new  covenant,  has  already  been 
shown.  An  explicit  belief  of  these,  is  absolutely 
required  of  all  those  to  whom  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  preached,  and  salvation  through  his  name 
proposed. 

178.  The  other  parts  of  divine  revelation  are 
objects  of  faith,  and  are  so  to  be  received.  They 
are  truths,  whereof  no  one  can  be  rejected  ;  none 
that  is  once  known  to  be  .such,  may  or  ought  to  be 
disbelieved ;  for  to  acknowledge  any  proposition 
to  be  of  divine  revelation  and  authority,  and  yet  to 
deny  or  disbelieve  it,  is  to  otTend  against  this  fun- 
damental article  and  ground  of  faith,  that  God  is 
true.  But  yet  a  great  many  of  the  truths  revealed 
in  tlie  gospel,  every  one  does,  and  must  confess  a 
man  may  be  ignorant  of,  nay,  disbelieve,  without 
danger  to  his  salvation  ;  as  is  evident  in  those  who, 
allowing  tlio  authority,  differ  in  the  interpretation 
and  meaning  of  several  texts  of  Scripture,  not 
thought  fundamental :  in  all  which  it  is  plain  the 
contending  parties,  on  one  side  or  the  other,  are 
ignorant  of,  nay,  disbelieve  the  truths  dehvered  in 
Holy  Writ,  unless  contrarieties  and  contradictions 
can  be  contained  in  the  same  words,  and  divine 
revelation  can  mean  contrary  to  itself. 


THE    REASONABLENESS    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


67 


179.  Though  all  divine  revelation  requires  the 
obedience  of  faith,  yet  every  truth  of  inspired 
Scriptures  is  not  one  of  those,  that  by  the  law  of 
faith  is  required  to  be  explicitly  believed  to  justifi- 
cation. What  those  are  we  have  seen  by  what 
our  Saviour  and  his  apostles  proposed  to  and  re- 
quired in  those  whom  they  converted  to  the  faith. 
Those  are  fundamentals,  which  it  is  not  enough  not 
to  disbelieve,  every  one  is  required  actually  to  as- 
sent to  them.  But  any  other  proposition  contain- 
ed in  the  Scripture,  which  God  has  not  thus  made 
a  necessary  part  of  the  law  of  faith  (without  an 
actual  assent  to  which  he  will  not  allow  any  one 
to  be  a  believer,)  a  man  may  be  ignorant  of,  with- 
out hazarding  his  salvation  by  a  defect  in  his  faith. 
He  believes  all  that  Gfod  has  made  necessary  for 
him  to  beheve  and  assent  to ;  and  as  for  the  rest 
of  divine  truths,  there  is  nothing  more  required  of 
him,  but  that  he  receive  all  the  parts  of  divine  re- 
velation, with  a  docOity  and  disposition  prepared 
to  embrace,  and  assent  to  all  truths  coming  from 
God,  and  submit  his  mind  to  whatsoever  shall  ap- 
pear to  him  to  bear  that  character.  Where  he, 
apon  fair  endeavors  understands  it  not,  how  can 
he  avoid  being  ignorant  1  And  where  he  cannot 
put  several  texts,  and  make  them  consist  together, 
what  remedy  ?  He  must  either  interpret  one  by 
the  other,  or  suspend  his  opinion.  He  that  thinks 
that  more  is,  or  can  be  required,  of  poor  frail  man 
in  matters  of  faith,  will  do  well  to  consider  what 
absurdities  he  wiU  run  into.  God,  out  of  the  infi- 
niteness  of  his  mercy,  has  dealt  witli  man  as  a 
compassionate  and  tender  father.  He  gave  him 
reason  and  with  it  a  law,  that  could  not  be  other- 
wise than  what  reason  should  dictate,  unless  we 
should  think  that  a  reasonable  creature  should  have 
an  unreasonable  law.  But  considering  the  frailty 
of  man,  apt  to  run  into  corruption  and  misery,  he 
promised  a  dehverer,  whom  in  his  good  time  he 
sent ;  and  then  declared  to  all  mankind,  that  who- 
ever would  believe  him  to  be  the  Saviour  promised, 
and  take  him  now  raised  from  the  dead,  and  con- 
stituted the  Lord  and  Judge  of  all  men,  to  be  their 
king  and  ruler,  should  be  saved.  This  is  a  plain 
intelligible  proposition  ;  and  the  all-merciful  God 
seems  herein  to  have  consulted  the  poor  of  this 
world,  and  the  bulk  of  mankind.  These  are  articles 
that  the  laboring  and  illiterate  man  may  compre- 
hend. This  is  a  religion  suited  to  vulgar  capaci- 
ties, and  the  state  of  mankind  in  this  world,  des- 
tined to  labor  and  travail.  The  writers  and  wrang- 
lers in  religion  fill  it  with  niceties,  and  dress  it  up 
with  notions,  which  they  make  necessary  and  fun- 
damental parts  of  it ;  as  if  there  were  no  way  into 
the  church  but  through  the  Academy  or  Lycaeum. 


The  greatest  part  of  mankind  have  not  leisure  for 
learning  and  logic,  and  superfine  distinctions  of  the 
schools.  Where  the  hand  is  used  to  tlie  plough 
and  the  spade,  the  head  is  seldom  elevated  to  sub- 
lime notions,  or  exercised  im  mysterious  reasonings. 
It  is  well  if  men  of  that  rank  (to  say  nothing  of  the 
other  sex)  can  comprehend  plain  propositions,  and 
a  short  reasoning  about  things  familiar  to  then- 
minds,  and  nearly  allied  to  their  daily  experience. 
Go  beyond  this,  and  you  amaze  the  greatest  part 
of  mankind ;  and  may  as  well  talk  Arabic  to  a 
poor  day-laborer,  as  the  notions  and  language  that 
the  books  and  disputes  of  religion  are  filled  with, 
and  as  soon  you  will  be  understood.  The  dis- 
senting congregations  are  supposed  by  their  teach- 
ers to  be  more  accurately  instructed  in  matters  of 
faith,  and  better  to  understand  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, than  the  vulgar  conformists,  who  are  charged 
with  great  ignorance  ;  how  truly  I  will  not  here 
determine.  But  I  ask  them  to  tell  me  seriously, 
whether  half  their  people  have  leisure  to  study  f 
Nay,  whether  one  in  ten  of  those  who  come  to 
their  meetings  in  the  country,  if  they  had  time  to 
study,  do  or  can  understand' the  controversies  at 
this  time  so  warmly  managed  amongst  them,  about 
justification,  the  subject  of  this  present  trea- 
tise ■?  I  have  talked  with  some  of  then-  teachers, 
who  confess  themselves  not  to  understand  the  dif- 
ference in  debate  between  them;  and  yet  the 
points  they  stand  on,  are  reckoned  of  so  great 
weight,  so  material,  so  fundamental  m  religion, 
that  they  divide  communion  and  separate  upon 
them.  Had  God  intended  that  none  but  the 
learned  scribe,  the  disputer  or  wise  of  this  world, 
should  be  Christians,  or  be  saved ;  thus  religion 
should  have  been  prepared  for  them,  filled  with 
speculations  and  niceties,  obscure  terms,  and  ab- 
stract  notions.  But  men  of  that  expectation,  men 
furnished  with  such  acquisitions,  tlie  apostle  tells 
us,*  are  rather  shut  out  from  the  simplicity  of  the 
gospel,  to  make  way  for  those  poor,  ignorant,  illite- 
rate, who  heard  and  believed  the  promises  of  a 
deliverer,  and  believed  Jesus  to  be  him ;  who  could 
conceive  a  man  dead  and  made  aUve  again,  and, 
believe  that  he  should,  at  the  end  of  the  world, 
come  again,  and  pass  sentence  on  all  men,  accord- 
ing to  their  deeds.  That  the  poor  had  the  gospel 
preached  to  them,  Christ  makes  a  mark  as  well  as 
business,  of  his  mission  if  and,  if  the  poor  had  the 
gospel  preached  to  them,  it  was,  without  doubt, 
such  a  gospel  ae  the  poor  could  understand — plain 
and  intelligible  r  and  so  it  was,  as  we  have  seen, 
m  the  preachings  of  Christ  and  his  apostles. 


t  Matt.  xi.  5. 


APPENDIX. 


The  "  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,  as  deliver- 
ed in  tlie  Scriptures,"  had  not  long  appeared,  be- 
fore it  was  attacked  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards,  in 
a  work  entitled  "  Some  Thoughts  on  the  Causes 
and  Occasions  of  Atheism,  especially  in  the  pre- 
sent Age."  Locke  would,  perhaps,  have  acted 
more  wisely  had  he  altogether  declined  entering 
into  a  controversy ;  or,  like  Newton,  committed 
the  defence  of  his  doctrines  to  his  friends.  But 
such  indilFerence  was  inconsistent  with  his  cha- 
racter. He  accordingly,  in  a  "  Vindication  of  the 
Reasonableness  of  Christianity,"  rephed  to  the 
charges  which  had  been  brought  against  him,  and 
by  farther  developments  and  illustrations  of  his 
opinions,  sought  to  guard  them  against  future  mis- 
representations. His  antagonist,  however,  was 
too  much  flattered  by  being  regarded  as  the  oppo- 
nent of  60  great  a  man,  readily  to  relinquish  such 
an  advantage ;  and  therefore  continued  his  ani- 
madversions in  a  more  taunting  and  indecent  style, 
in  his  "  Socinianism  Unmasked,"  and  "  Socmian 
Creed."  He  was  one  of  those  polemics  who  mis- 
take abusive  language  for  argument,  and  cannot 
sufficiently  show  tiieir  zeal  without  entirely  eman- 
cipating themselves  from  the  restraint  of  good 
breeding  and  civility.  He  could  think  of  no  terms 
too  opprobrious  to  be  heaped  upon  Locke.  The 
spirit  of  Christianity  he  altogether  lost  sight  of, 
while  contending  for  his  own  interpretation  of  some 
of  its  mysteries  ;  and  we  wish  we  could  with  truth 
and  candor  say,  that  the  author  of  the  "Essay  on 
the  Human  Understanding"  had,  on  this  occasion 
left  posterity  a  bettor  example.  It  is,  indeed, 
greatly  to  be  regretted  that  neither  the  sugges- 
tions of  philosophy,  nor  the  example  of  him  who, 
when  railed  at,  railed  not  again,  should  have  kept 
Locke,  in  his  Second  Vindication,  within  the  limits 
of  politeness  and  Christian  charity.  His  superi- 
or understanding,  which  enabled  him,  both  in  spe- 
culation and  practice,  to  discern  what  was  right, 
might  certainly  have  been  expected  to  prove  a  safe- 
guard against  this  besetting  sin  of  controversialists. 
Even  paganism  affords  patterns  of  such  forbear- 
ance. Socrates,  when  attacked  by  the  Sophists, 
who,  at  the  same  time,  were  laboring  to  under- 
mine all  law,  justice,  and  religion,  exhibited 
neither  bitterness  nor  anger.  He  listened  to  the 
most  galling  accusations  with  calmness.  He  smil- 
ingly submitted  to  revilings  and  taunts  :  and,  as 
we  learn  from  the  Gorgias,— the  most  admirable 
model,  perhaps,  existing,  of  the  manner  in  which 
controversy  should  be  conducted,— when  brought 
into  personal  contact  vvitli  his  opponents,  and 
sought  to  bo  irritated  by  insolent  assumption  of 
superiority  and  affected  disdain,  defended  himself, 
like  a  perfect  gentleman,  with  the  weapons  of 
calm  reason  and  irony.  But  Locke  was  by  nature 
passionate,  and  vented  his  anger  in  lano-uage  un- 
becoming his  character  and  his  cause."  For  this 
(68) 


reason,  were  not  their  prohxity  a  sufficient  objec- 
tion, we  should  scruple  to  append  the  two  Vindi- 
cations to  the  "  Reasonableness  of  Christianity," 
though  we  shall  endeavor,  by  the  help  of  extracts, 
to  convey  some  idea  of  the  objections  and  replies. 

Mr.  Edwards,  with  reckless  disregard  of  all  that 
is  due  from  one  Christian  to  another,  charges 
Locke  with  being  an  Atheist,*  or  a  favorer  of 
Atheism,  or  a  Socinian,  which  in  his  view  of  the 
matter,  is  much  the  same  thing ;  and,  to  show 
how  lightly  he  deals  about  his  accusations,  places 
in  the  same  category,  Jeremy  Taylor  and  the  au- 
thor of  the  "  Naked  Truth."  By  what  rules  of 
logic  he  identifies  Socinianism  with  Atheism  is  left 
to  the  acumen  of  the  ingenious  reader ;  but  in  the 
charge  of  Socinianism  he  is  positive,  and  thus  he 
maintains  it : — "  When  he  (Locke)  proceeds  to 
mention  the  advantages  and  benefits  of  Christ's 
coming  into  the  world,  and  appearing  in  the  flesh, 
he  hath  not  one  syllable  of  his  satisfying  for  us,  or 
by  his  death  purchasing  life  or  salvation,  or  any 
thing  that  sounds  like  it.  This  and  several  other 
things  show  that  he  is  all  over  Socinianized." 

In  reply  to  this,  Locke  adduces,  from  his  book, 
the  following  passages  : — "  From  this  estate  of 
death  Jesus  Christ  restores  all  mankind  to  life  ;" 
and  a  little  farther,  "  The  life  which  Jesus  Christ 
restores  to  all  men  ;"  and,  again,  "  He  that  hath 
incurred  death  for  his  own  transgressions,  cannot 
lay  down  his  life  for  another,  as  our  Saviour  pro- 
mises he  did."  He  then  proceeds  : — "  But  what 
will  become  of  me,  that  I  have  not  mentioned  sa- 
tisfaction !  .  .  .  Possibly  this  reverend  gen- 
tleman would  have  had  charity  enough  for  a  known 
writer  of  the  brotherhood,  to  have  found  it  by  an 
innuendo  in  those  words  above  quoted,  of  laying 
down  his  life  for  another.  .  .  .  But  what  if  the 
author  designed  his  treatise,  as  the  title  shows, 
chiefly  for  those  who  were  not  yet  thoroughly  or 
firmly  Christians  ;  proposing  to  work  on  those  who 
either  wholly  disbelieved,  or  doubted  of  the  truth 


*  Dr.  Knox,  with  many  others,  classes  Locke 
among  the  most  celebrated  defenders  of  Christianity, 
though  he  does  not  think  much  good  has  been  de- 
rived from  any  works  of  this  kind  : — "  Let  those," 
says  he,  "who  think  the  dry  argumentative  apolo- 
gies irresistibly  convincing,  now  bring  them  forward, 
and  silence  the  gainsayers  at  once.  The  Demon- 
strations of  a  Huet;  the  Evidences  of  a  Clarke; 
the  Reasonings  of  a  Locke,  a  Grotius,  a  Hartley, 
should  be  pre'-ented  in  the  most  striking  manner,  by 
public  autnority;  and  if  they  are  really  efficacious 
in  producing  conviction,  we  may  be  assured  that 
infidelity  will  vanish  at  their  appearance,  like  the 
mists  of  an  autumnal  morning,  when  the  meridian 
sun  breaks  forth  in  full  splendor.  But  the  truth  is, 
they  are  already  very  much  diffused  ;  and  yet  the 
Christian  religion  is  said  to  be  rapidly  on  the  de- 
cline."— Christian  Philosophy,  p.  11,  12. 


APPENDIX. 


69 


of  the  Christian  religion.  Would  any  one  blame 
liis  prudence,  if  he  mentioned  only  those  advan- 
tages which  all  Christians  are  agreed  in  1  Might  he 
not  remember  and  observe  that  command  of  the 
apostle,  "Him  that  is  weak  in  the  faith,  receive 
ye,  but  not  to  doubtful  disputations,"*  without  be- 
ing a  Socinian  1  Did  he  amiss,  that  he  offered  to 
the  belief  of  those  who  stood  off,  that,  and  only 
that,  which  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles  preached 
for  the  reducing  of  the  unconverted  world  1  and 
would  any  one  think  he  in  earnest  went  about  to 
persuade  men  to  be  Christians,  who  should  use  that 
as  an  argument  to  recommend  the  gospel,  which  he 
has  observed  men  to  lay  hold  on  as  an  objection 
against  it  J  To  urge  such  points  of  controversy 
as  necessary  articles  of  faith,  when  we  see  our 
Saviour  and  the  apostles  urged  them  not  as  ne- 
cessary to  be  believed  to  make  men  Christians,  is^ 
by  our  own  authority,  to  add  prejudices  to  prejudi- 
ces, and  to  block  up  our  own  way  to  those  men  "whom 
we  would  have  access  to,  and  prevail  upon." 

Another  charge  made  by  Mr.  Edwards  against 
Locke,  was  his  forgetting,  or  rather  wilfully  omit- 
ting, some  plain  and  obvious  passages,  and  famous 
testimonies  in  the  evangelists ;  namely,  "  Go,  teach 
all  nations,  baptizing  them  in  the  name  of  the 
Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ;"t 
and,  "  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word,  and  the 
Word  was  with  God,  and  the  Word  was  God  ;" 
and,  again,  in  the  same  chapter  :  "  And  the  Word 
was  made  flesh. "|  In  his  reply  to  this  point, 
Locke  observes  that,  apparently,  all  the  sins  in  his 
book  were  sins  of  omission ;  though  tlie  outcry 
which  had  been  raised,  on  its  first  publication, 
might  well  have  persuaded  the  world  it  was  de- 
signed to  subvert  all  morality  and  religion.  How- 
ever, if  omitting  "  plain  and  obvious  passages," 
were  to  be  considered  a  fault,  he  expresses  his 
surprise  that,  since  his  omissions  of  this  kind  were 
innumerable,  so  very  few  should  have  been  object- 
ed to  him.  "  But,"  continues  he,  "  if  I  have  left 
out  none  of  those  passages  or  testimonies  which 
contain  what  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles  preach- 
ed, and  required  assent  to,  to  make  men  believers, 
I  shall  think  my  omissions,  let  them  be  what  they 
will,  no  faults  in  the  present  case.  Whatever  doc- 
trines Mr.  Edwards  would  have  to  be  believed,  if 
they  are  such  as  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles  re- 
quired to  be  beheved  to  make  a  man  a  Christian, 
he  will  be  sure  to  find  them  in  those  preachings 
and  "  famous  testimonies"  of  our  Saviour  and  his 
apostles,  that  I  have  quoted  ;  and  if  they  are  not 
there  he  may  rest  satisfied  they  were  not  propos- 
ed by  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles  as  necessary 
to  be  believed,  to  make  men  Christ's  disciples." 

He  then  proceeds  to  animadvert  on  Mr.  Ed- 
wards' remissness,  in  not  reprehending  him,  after 
his  usual  manner,  for  omitting  other  texts  of  Scrip- 
ture, no  less  true,  and  no  less  to  be  believed,  than 
the  "  famous  testimonies"  above  mentioned  ;  par- 
ticularly those  texts  in  Matthew  and  Mark,  on 
which  are  founded  the  following  articles  of  the 
Apostle's  Creed  ;  viz.,  that  Christ  was  born  of  the 
Virgin  Mary ;  suffered  under  Pontius  Pilate  ;  was 
crucified,  dead,  and  buried.  "  These,"  says  he, 
"being  articles  of  the  Apostles'  Creed,  are  looked 
upon  as  'ftindamental  doctrines  ;'  and  one  would 


Rom.xiv.  1.   +  Matt,  xxviii.  19.   t  John,  i.  1, 14. 
80  fl9) 


wonder  why  Mr.  Edwards  so  quietly  passes  by 
their  omission,  did  it  not  appear  that  he  was  so  in- 
tent on  fixing  his  imputation  of  Socinianism  upon, 
me,  that  rather  than  miss  that,  he  was  content  to 
drop  the  other  articles  of  his  creed.  For  I  must 
observe  to  him,  that  if  he  had  blamed  me  for  the 
omission  of  the  places  last  quoted  out  of  St. 
Matthew,  as  he  had  as  much  reason  as  for  any 
other,  it  would  plainly  have  appeared  how  idle  and 
ill-grounded  his  charging  Socinianism  on  me  was. 
But,  at  any  rate,  he  was  to  give  the  book  an  ill 
name ;  not  because  it  was  Socinian ;  for  he  has 
no  more  reason  to  charge  it  with  Socianism  for 
the  omission  he  mentions,  than  the  Apostles' 
Creed." 

Here  our  philosopher  imagined  himself  upon 
strong  ground.  But  he  was  mistaken.  For  Mr. 
Edwards,  who,  like  an  able  controversialist,  could 
strengthen  his  arguments  with  sneers  and  ridicule, 
takes  a  short  method  with  the  Apostles'  Creed. 
First,  however,  he  indulges  himself  in  a  sarcasm 
or  two  at  his  adversary : — «  This  author  of  the 
Neio  Christianity,"*  says  he,  "  ivisehj  objects  that 
the  Apostles'  Creed  hath  none  of  those  articles 
which  I  mention."  Here  with  equal  dexterity, 
Locke  pretends  to  understand  the  word  "  wisely" 
in  its  literal  acceptation,  though  it  is  used  ironical- 
ly for  "  foolishly  ;"  and  gravely  answers  :  "If  that 
author  wisely  objects,  the  Unmasker  would  have 
done  well  to  have  replied  ivisely.  But  for  a  man 
loisely  to  reply,  it  is  in  the  first  place  requisite  that 
the  objection  be  truly  and  fairly  set  down  in  its  full 
force,  and  not  represented  short,  and  as  will  best 
serve  the  answerer's  turn  to  reply  to.  This  is 
neither  wise  nor  honest :  and  this  first  part  of  a 
wise  reply  the  Unmasker  has  failed  in." 

He  then  once  more  shelters  himself  behind  the 
Apostles'  Creed  ;  upon  which  Mr.  Edwards  ob- 
serves : — "  Nor  does  any  considerate  man  wonder 
at  it ;"— that  is,  that  the  creed  should  contain 
none  of  those  articles  and  doctrines  he  had  men- 
tioned ;  for  the  creed  is  a  form  of  outward  profes- 
sion,  which  is  chiefly  to  be  made  in  the  public 
assemblies,  when  prayers  are  put  up  m  the  church, 
and  tiie  holy  Scriptures  are  read.  Then  this 
abridgment  of  faith  is  properly  used,  or  when 
there  is  not  time  or  opportunity  to  make  any  en- 
largement. But  we  are  not  to  think  it  expressly 
contains  in  it  all  the  necessary  and  weighty  points, 
all  the  important  doctrines  of  belief;  it  being  only 
designed  to  be  an  abstract." 

Here  he  commits  himself,  and  Locke  is  not  slow 
to  take  advantage  of  it.  "  Another  indispensable 
requisite,"  says  he,  "  in  a  loise  reply,  (the  sneer  at 
his  wisdom  had  evidently  galled  him,)  is,  that  it 
should  be  pertinent.  Now  what  can  there  be 
more  impertinent,  than  to  confess  the  matter  of 
fact  upon  which  the  objection  is  grounded ;  but, 
instead  of  destroying  the  inference  drawn  from 
that  matter  of  fact,  only  amuse  the  reader  with 
wrong  reasons,  why  that  matter  of  fact  was  soT  ^ 
*  No,  considerate  man,'  he  says,  '  doth  wonder' 
that  the  articles  and  doctrines  he  mentioned  are 


+  To  this  charge  of  novelty,  or  of  new-model- 
ling Christianity,  Locke  replies :— "  This  new  Chris- 
tianity is  as  old  as  the  preaching  of  our  Saviour 
and  his  apostles,  and  a  little  older  than  our  Un- 
masker's  system." — Second  Vmdication,  p.  136. 


70 


APPENDIX. 


omitted  in  the  Apostles'  Creed:  because  that 
creed  is  a  form  of  outward  profession. — A  pro- 
fession !  of  what,  I  beseech  you  ?  Is  it  a  form  to 
be  used  for  form's  sake  1  I  thought  it  had  been  a 
profession  of  something — even  of  the  Christian 
faith  :  and  if  it  be  so,  any  considerate  man  may 
wonder  necessary  articles  of  the  Christian  faith 
should  be  left  out  of  it.  For,  how  it  can  be  an 
outward  profession  of  the  Christian  faith,  without 
containing  the  Christian  faith,  I  do  not  see ;  un- 
less a  man  can  outwardly  profess  the  Christian 
faith  in  words  that  do  not  contain  or  express  it ; 
that  is,  profess  the  Christian  faith  wlien  he  does 
not  profess  it.  But  he  says,  '  'tis  a  profession 
chiefly  to  be  made  use  of  in  assemblies.'  Do 
those  solemn  assemblies  privilege  it  from  contain- 
ing the  necessary  articles  of  the  Christian  reli- 
gion !  This  proves  not  that  it  does  not,  or  was 
not,  designed  to  contain  all  articles  necessary  to 
be  behoved  to  make  a  man  a  Christian ;  unless 
the  Unmasker  can  prove  that  a  form  of  outward 
profession  of  the  Christian  faith,  that  contains  all 
such  necessary  articles,  cannot  be  made  use  of 
in  public  assemblies." 

When  Mr.  Edwards  wrote  his  opinion  of  tlie 
Apostles'  Creed,  he  probably  did  not  sufficiently 
consider  either  Ids  own  words,  or  the  logical  acute- 
ness,  and  patient  diligence  of  Locke;  did  not 
foresee  tliat  he  was  not  to  be  silenced  by  railing, 
or  satisfied  with  explanations  so  loose  and  imper- 
fect, "  In  the  public  assemblies,"  says  he,  "  when 
prayers  are  put  up  by  the  church,  and  the  holy 
Scriptures  are  read,  then  this  abridgment  of 
faith  is  properly  used  ;  or  when  there  is  not  ge- 
nerally time  or  opportunity  to  make  an  enlarge- 
ment." 

Upon  this  his  adversary  rernarks : — "  But  that 
which  contains  not  what  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  be  believed  to  make  a  man  a  Christian,  can  no 
where  be  properly  used  as  '  a  form  of  outward 
profession'  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  least  of  all 
in  the  solemn  public  assemblies.  All  the  sense  I 
can  make  of  this  is,  that  this  abridgment  of  the 
Christian  faith  ;  that  is,  imperfect  collection,  as 
the  Unmasker  will  have  it,  of  some  of  the  funda- 
mental articles  of  Christianity,  in  the  Apostles' 
Creed,  which  omits  tiie  greatest  part  of  them,  is 
made  use  of  as  a  form  of  outward  profession  of 
but  a  part  of  the  Christian  faith,  in  the  public  as- 
semblies ;  when,  by  reason  of  reading  the  Scrip- 
tures and  prayers,  there  is  not  time  or  opportunity 
for  a  full  and  perfect  profession  of  it. 

"  'Tis  strange  the  Christian  church,"  he  conti- 
nues, "  should  not  find  time  or  opportunity,  in  six- 
teen hundred  years,  to  make,  in  any  of  her  public 
assemblies,  a  profession  of  so  much  of  her  faith 
as  is  necessary  to  make  a  man  a  Christian.  But, 
pray  tell  me,  has  the  church  any  such  full  and 
complete  form  of  faith  ;  that  hath  in  it  all  those 
propositions  you  have  given  us  for  necessary  arti- 
cles, not  to  say  any  tiling  of  those  which  you  have 
reserved  to  yourself  in  your  own  breast,  and  will 
not  communicate — of  which  the  Apostles'  Creed 
is  only  a  scanty  form,  a  brief  imperfect  abstract ; 
used  only  to  save  time  in  the  crowd  of  other 
pressing  occasions,  that  are  always  in  haste  to  be 
despatched  1  If  she  has,  the  Unmasker  will  do 
well  to  produce  it.  If  the  church  has  no  such 
complete  form,  besides  the  Apostles'  Creed,  any 


where,  of  fundamental  articles,  he  will  do  well  to 
leave  talking  idly  of  this  'abstract,'  as  he  goes  on 
to  do  in  the  following  words  : — '  But  we  are  not 
to  think  that  it  expressly  contains  in  it  all  the  ne- 
cessary and  weighty  points,  all  the  important  doc- 
trines of  our  belief ;  it  being  only  designed  to  be 
an  abstract.'  Of  what,  I  beseecli  you,  is  it  an 
abstract  ?  For  here  the  Unmasker  stops  ehort ; 
and  as  one  that  knows  not  well  what  to  say,  speaks 
not  out  what  it  is  an  abstract  of ;  but  provides 
himself  a  subterfuge  in  the  generahty  of  the  pre- 
ceding terms,  of  '  necessary  and  weighty  points,' 
and  'important  doctrines,'  jumbled  together; 
which  can  be  there  of  no  other  use  but  to  cover 
liis  ignorance  or  sophistry.  But  the  question  be- 
ing only  about  necessary  points,  to  what  purpose 
are  '  weighty  and  important  doctrines'  joined  to 
them ;  unless  he  will  say,  that  there  is  no  differ- 
ence between  '  necessary'  and  '  weighty  points,' 
fundamental  and  ' important  doctrines?'  And  if 
so,  then  the  distinction  of  points  into  necessary 
and  not  necessary  will  be  foolish  and  impertinent : 
and  all  the  doctrines  contauied  in  the  Bible  will 
be  absolutely  necessary  to  be  explicitly  believed 
by  every  man  to  make  him  a  Christian.  But 
taking  it  for  granted,  that  the  distinction  of  truths 
contained  in  the  gospel  into  points  absolutely  ne- 
cessary, and  not  absolutely  necessary  to  be  be- 
lieved to  make  a  man  a  Christian,  is  good  ;  I  de- 
sire the  Unmasker  to  tell  us,  what  the  Apostles' 
Creed  is  an  abstract  of.  He  will,  perhaps,  an- 
swer, that  he  lias  told  us  already,  in  this  very  page, 
where  he  says  it  is  an  '  abridgment  of  faith ;'  and 
he  has  said  true  in  words,  but  saying  those  words 
by  rote  after  others,  without  understanding  them, 
he  has  said  so  in  a  sense  that  is  not  true.  For 
he  supposes  it  an  '  abridgment  of  faith'  by  con- 
taining only  a  few  of  the  necessary  articles  of 
faith,  and  leaving  out  the  far  greater  part  of  them ; 
and  so  takes  a  part  of  a  thing  for  an  abridgment 
of  it ;  whereas  an  abridgment  or  abstract  of  any 
thing  is  the  whole  in  little  :  and  if  it  be  of  a  sci- 
ence or  doctrine,  the  abridgment  consists  in  the 
essential  or  necessary  parts  of  it,  contracted  into 
a  narrower  compass  than  where  it  lies  difTused  in 
the  ordinary  way  of  delivery,  amongst  a  great 
number  of  transitions,  explanations,  illustrations, 
proofs,  reasonings,  corollaries,  &c.  All  which, 
though  they  make  a  part  of  the  discourse  wherein 
that  doctrine  is  delivered,  are  left  out  in  the 
abridgment  of  it,  wherein  all  the  necessary  parts 
of  it  are  drawn  together  into  less  room.  But 
though  an  abridgment  need  to  contain  none  but 
the  essential  and  necessary  parts,  yet  all  those  it 
ought  to  contain  ;  or  else  it  will  not  be  an  abridg- 
ment or  abstract  of  that  thing,  but  an  abridgment 
only  of  a  part  of  it."* 


*  Knot,  the  Jesuit,  in  his  controversy  with  Chil- 
lingworthjhad  made  much  the  same  observation  on 
the  Apostles'  Creed,  to  which  the  great  logician 
thus  replies: — "You  trifle  atTectedly,  confounding 
the  apostles'  belief  of  the  whole  religion  of  Christ, 
as  it  comprehends  both  what  we  are  to  do,  and  what 
we  are  to  believe,  with  that  part  of  it  which  con- 
tains not  duties  of  obedience,  but  only  the  necessary 
articles  of  simple  faith.  Now,  though  the  apostles' 
belief  be,  in  the  former  sense,  a  larger  thing  than 
that  which  we  call  the  Apostles'  Creed  ;  yet  in  the 
latter  sense  of  the  wo*d,  the  creed  (I  say)  is  a  full 


APPENDIX. 


But,  as  lie  proceeds,  Mr.  Edwards  discovers 
that  the  Apostles'  Creed  is  not  really  an  abridg- 
ment of  the  Christian  faith  ;  for  "if  a  man  believe 
no  more,"  says  he,  "  than  is  in  express  terms  in 
the  Apostles'  Creed,  his  faith  will  not  be  the  faith 
of  a  Christian."  Locke,  as  was  to  be  expected, 
rejoices  at  the  declaration  made  in  this  passage, 
"  wherein  he  does  great  honor,"  says  he,  "  to  the 
primitive  church,  and  particularly  to  the  church  of 
England.  The  primitive  church  admitted  con- 
verted heathens  to  baptism,  upon  the  faith  con- 
tained in  the  Apostles'  Creed  :  a  bare  profession 
of  that  faith,  and  no  more,  was  required  of  them 
to  be  received  into  the  church,  and  made  mem- 
bers of  Christ's  body.  How  Uttlc  different  the 
faith  of  the  ancient  church  was  from  the  faith  I 
have  mentioned,  may  be  seen  in  these  words  of 
Tertullian: — 'Rogula  fidei  nostri  una  omnino, 
est,  sola,  immobilis,  irreformabilis  ;  credendi  scili- 
cet in  miicum  Deum  omnipotentem  mundi  condi- 
torem,  et  Filium  ejus  Jesum  Christum,  natum  ex 
Virgine  Maria,  crucifixum  sub  Pontio  Pilato,  ter- 
tia  die  resuscitatum  a  mortuis,  receptum  in  coelis, 
sedentemnunc  ad  dextram  Patris,  venturumjudi- 
care  vivos  et  mortuos,  per  carnis  etiam  resurrec- 
tionem.  Hie  lege  fidei  manente,  caetera  jam  dis- 
ciplinse  et  conversationis  admittunt  novitatem  cor- 
rectionis.' 

"  This  was  the  faith  that,  in  TertuUian's  time, 
sufficed  to  make  a  Christian.  And  the  church  of 
England,  as  I  have  remarked  already,  only  pro- 
poses the  articles  of  the  Apostles'  Creed  to  the 
convert  to  be  baptized ;  and  upon  his  professing 
a  belief  of  them,  asks  whether  he  will  be  baptized 
in  this  faith,  which,  if  we  wiU  beheve  the  Un- 
masker,  is  not  the  faith  of  a  Christian.  However, 
the  church,  without  any  more  ado,  upon  the  pro- 
fession of  tins  faith,  and  no  other,  baptizes  him 
into  it.  So  that  the  ancient  church,  if  the  Un- 
masker  may  be  believed,  baptized  converts  into 
that  faith  which  is  not  the  faith  of  a  Christian  ; 
and  the  church  of  England,  when  she  baptizes 
any  one,  makes  him  not  a  Christian." 
;  Jeremy  Taylor,  in  his  »  Liberty  of  Prophesying," 
takes  precisely  the  same  view  of  the  question. 
He  commences  by  giving  an  outline  of  the  history 
of  the  creed,  which  is  supposed  to  have  been  writ- 
ten by  the  apostles,  or  by  holy  men,  their  con- 
temporaries, and  designed  to  be  a  rule  of  faith  to 
all  Christians,  as  appears  from  Ireneeus,  Tertullian, 
St.  Cyprian,  St.  Austin,  Rufinus,  and,  in  short,  all 
the  orthodox  fathers.     "And,  unless  it  had  con- 


comprehension  of  their  belief,  which  you  yourself 
have  formerly  confessed,  though  somewhat  fearfully 
and  inconstantly.  And  here,  again,  unwillingness 
to  speak  the  truth,  makes  ycu  speak  that  which  is 
hardly  sense,  and  call  it  an  '  abridgment  of  some 
articles  of  faith.'  For  I  demand  those  some  articles 
\vhich  you  speak  of— which  are  they  1  Those  that 
;are  out  of  the  creed,  or  those  that  are  in  it  1  Those 
that  are  in  it,  it  comprehends  at  largi^ ;  and  therefore 
'it  is  not  an  abridgment  of  them.^  Those  that  are 
.out  of  it,  it  comprehends  not  at  all ;  and  therefore  it 
lis  not  an  abridgment  of  them.  If  you  would  call 
)it  now  an  abridgment  of  faith,  this  would  be  sense  ; 
and  signify  thus  much,  that  all  the  necessary  arti- 
jcles  of  the  Christian  faith  are  comprised  in  it.  For 
,this  is  the  proper  duty  of  abridgments,  to  leave  out 
nothing  necessary." 


tained  all  the  entire  objects  of  faith,  and  the  foun- 
dation of  religion,  it  cannot  be  imagined  (says  lie) 
to  what  purpose  it  should  serve:  and  that  it  was 
so  esteemed  by  the  whole  church  of  God  m  all 
ages,  appears  in  this,  that  since  faith  is  a  necessary 
predisposition  to  baptism,  in  all  persons  capable 
of  the  use  of  reason,  all  catechumens  in  the  Latin 
church,  comuig  to  baptism,  were  interrogated  con- 
cerning their  faith,  and  gave  satisfactTon  in  the 
recitation  of  this  creed."  A  httle  further  on,  as 
if  anticipating  the  objections  of  Mr.  Edwards,  he 
observes : — "  Since  it  is  necessary  to  rest  some- 
where, lest  we  should  run  to  an  infinity,  it  is  best 
to  rest  there  where  the  apostles  and  the  churches 
apostolical  rested  ;  when  not  only  they  who  are 
able  to  judge,  but  others  who  are  not,  are  equally 
ascertained  of  the  certainty  and  of  the  sufficiency 
of  that  explication.  This,  I  say,  not  that  I  be- 
lieve it  unlawful  or  unsafe  for  the  church,  or  any 
of  the  ecclesiastical  rulers,  or  any  wise  man  to 
extend  his  own  creed  to  any  thing  which  may 
certainly  follow  from  any  one  of  the  articles  ;  but 
I  sa^  that  no  such  deduction  is  fit  to  be  pressed 
on  others  as  an  article  of  faith  ;  and  that  every 
deduction  which  is  so  made,  unless  it  is  such  a 
tiling  as  is  at  first  evident  to  all,  is  but  sufficient  to 
make  a  human  faith,  nor  can  it  amount  to  a  di- 
vine, much  less  can  he  obligatory  to  bind  a  person 
of  differing  persuasion  to  subscribe,  under  pain  of 
losing  his  faith,  or  being  a  heretic."* 

Provided,  therefore,  Locke  considered  the  Apos- 
tles' Creed  to  be  the  symbol  of  his  faith,  and  sub- 
scribed to  all  the  articles  it  contained,  he  was  an 
orthodox  Christian.  But  his  antagonist,  unwilling, 
on  any  condition,  to  receive  a  philosopher  into 
brotherly  fellowship,  waving  his  objections  against 
the  sufficiency  of  the.  creed,  asserted  that  he  did 
not  believe  even  so  much.  "  I  crave  leave  to  tell 
him,"  says  he,  "  that  the  Apostles'  Creed  hath 
more  in  it  than  he  or  his  brethren  will  subscribe 
to."  Here,  then,  the  question  is  brought  to  a  point. 
Did  Locke  believe  the  creed  or  not  1  Mr.  Edwards 
affirms  the  negative  ;  and  if  Mr.  Edwards  is  right, 
Locke  was  not  a  Christian.  But  let  us  hear  the 
accused  in  his  own  defence  : — "  Were  it  not  the 
undoubted  privilege  of  the  Unmasker  to  know  me 
better  than  I  do  myself,  for  he  is  always  telling  me 
something  of  myself  which  I  did  not  know,  I  would, 
in  my  turn,  crave  leave  to  tell  him,  that  this  is  the 
faith  I  was  baptized  into,  no  one  tittle  whereof  I 
have  renounced,  that  I  know ;  and  I  heretofore 
thought  that  gave  me  title  to  be  a  Christian." 
Tliis  is  decisive  :  Locke  was  a  believer,  unless  we 
can  suppose  him  to  have  solemnly  affirmed  an  un- 
truth ;  a  supposition  which  would  do  little  credit 
to  our  Christian  charity.  ' 

In  the  "  Reasonableness  of  Christianity"  Locke 
has  chiefly  supported  his  views  with  texts  from 
those  portions  of  the  New  Testament  which  re- 
cord the  discourses  of  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles  ; 
and  for  this  proceeding  his  reason  was,  that  the 
fundamental  articles  of  our  faith  are  in  the  epistles 
promiscuously,  and  without  dittinction,  mixed  with 
other  truths.  But  Mr.  Edwards's  ingenuity  im- 
mediately suggests  another  reason.  Locke,  he 
continually  maintains,  was  desirous  of  reducing 
the  number  of  necessary  articles  of  faith,  and  there- 

•  Liberty  of  Prophesying,  p.  11, 18. 


72 


APPENDIX 


fore  purposely  omitted  the  epistolary  writings  of 
the  apostles,  because  they  are  fraught  with  other 
fiindamental  doctrines  besides  the  one  he  argues 
for.  He  then  enumerates  these  fundamental  ar- 
ticles, viz.:  1.  The  corruption  and  degeneracy  of 
human  nature,  with  the  true  origin  of  it — the  de- 
fection of  our  first  parents.  2.  The  propagation 
of  sin  and  mortality.  3.  Our  restoration  and  re- 
'  conciliation  by  Christ's  blood.  4.  The  eminency 
i  and  excellency  of  his  priesthood.  5.  The  efficacy 
*  of  his  death.  6.  The  full  satisfaction  made  thereby 
to  divine  justice.  7.  His  being  an  all-sufficient 
sacrifice  for  sin.  8.  Christ's  righteousness.  9. 
Our  justification  by  it.  10.  Election.  11.  Adop- 
tion. 12.  Sanctification.  13.  Saving  faith.  14. 
The  nature  of  the  gospel.  15.  The  new  covenant. 
16.  The  riches  of  God's  mercy  in  the  way  of  sal- 
vation by  Jesus  Christ.  17.  The  certainty  of  the 
resurrection  of  our  bodies,  and  of  the  future  glory. 
In  his  "First  Vindication"  Locke  replies  seri- 
ously, and  at  length,  to  the  accusation  of  his  ad- 
versary ;  and  inquires  whether  every  one  of  these 
"fundamental  doctrines"  is  required  to  be  believed 
to  make  a  man  a  Christian,  and  such  as  without 
the  actual  belief  thereof,  he  cannot  be  saved.  If 
so,  small  indeed  would  be  the  number  of  the  elect ; 
no  ignorant  man  could  possibly  be  saved  ;  for  none 
but  learned  theologists  could  even  comprehend 
the  terms  of  the  several  propositions  ;  and  no  man, 
perhaps,  could  form,  on  all  these  points,  an  opinion 
that  should  be  perfectly  free  from  error.  But  le* 
him  explain  his  own  views: — "If  they  are  not  ne- 
cessary, every  one  of  them,  you  may  call  them 
fundamental  doctrines  as  much  as  you  please,  they 
are  not  of  those  doctrines  of  faith  I  was  speaking 
of,  which  are  only  such  as  are  required  to  be  ac- 
tually believed  to  make  a  man  a  Cliristian.  If  you 
say,  some  of  them  are  such  necessary  points  of 
faith,  and  otiiers  not,  you,  by  this  specious  list  of 
well  sounding,  but  unexplained  terms,  arbitrarily 
collected,  only  make  good  what  I  have  said,  viz. : 
that  the  necessary  articles  of  faitli  are  in  the  epis- 
tles promiscuously  delivered  with  other  truths,  and 
therefore  they  cann:)t  be  distinguished  but  by  some 
other  mark  than  being  barely  found  in  the  epistles. 
If  you  say  that  they  are  all  of  them  necessary 
articles  of  faith,  I  shall  then  desire  you  to  reduce 
them  to  so  many  plain  doctrines,  and  then  prove 
them  required  to  be  believed  by  every  Christian  man 
to  make  hmi  a  member  of  the  Christian  church." 
In  the  "Second  Vindication"  he  thus  pursues 
the  same  argument : — "  Can  there  be  any  thing 
more  absurd  than  to  say  there  are  several  funda- 
mental articles,  each  of  which  every  man  must  ex- 
plicitly believe,  upon  pain  of  damnation,  and  yet 
not  be  able  to  say  which  they  be  ?  The  Unmasker 
has  set  down  no  small  number ;  but  yet  dares  not 
say,  'These  are  all.'  On  the  contrary,  he  has 
plainly  confessed  there  are  more  ;  but  will  not,  that 
is,  cannot  tell  what  they  are  that  remain  behind ; 
.  nay,  has  given  a  general  description  of  his  funda- 
'  mental  articles,  by  which  it  is  not  evident  but  there 
may  be  ten  times  as  many  as  those  he  has  named  ; 
and  amongst  them,  if  lie  durst  or  could  name  them, 
probably  several,  that  many  a  good  Christian,  who 
died  in  the  faith,  and  is  now  in  heaven,  never  once 
thought  of;  and  others,  which  many,  of  as  good 
authority  as  he,  would,  from  their  different  sys- 
tems, certainly  deny  and  contradict." 


We  shall  conclude  our  account  of  this  part  of 
the  controversy  with  the  following  passage  from 
the  "First  Vindication."  The  hst  of  materials 
for  his  creed — for  the  articles  are  not  yet  formed 
— Mr.  Edwards  closes  with  these  words  : — '  These 
are  the  matters  of  faith  contained  in  the  epis- 
tles, and  they  are  essential  and  integral  parts  of 
the  gospel  itself  What,  just  these?  Neither 
more  nor  less  ?  If  you  are  sure  of  it,  pray  let  us 
have  them  speedily,  for  the  reconciling  of  differ- 
ences  in  the  Christian  church,  which  has  been  so 
cruelly  torn  about  the  articles  of  the  Christian 
faith,  to  the  great  reproach  of  Christian  charity, 
and  scandal  of  our  true  religion." 

At  length  Mr.  Edwards,  setting  aside  all  minor 
considerations,  comes  at  once  to  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity,  and  affirms  that,  because  this  doctrine 
is  discoverable  in  them,  they  were  passed  over 
with  contempt  by  Locke.  His  words  are  : — "  He 
doth  this, — that  is,  pass  by  the  epistles  with  con- 
tempt— because  he  knew  that  there  are  so  many 
and  frequent,  and  those  so  illustrious  and  eminent 
attestations  to  the  doctrine  of  the  ever-to-be- 
adored  Trinity,  in  these  epistles."  He  adds,  that 
Locke  expounds  John,  xiv.  9.,  &c.,  after  the  anti- 
trinitarian  mode  ;  and  makes  Christ  and  Adam  to 
be  sons  of  God  in  the  same  sense,  and  by  their 
birth.  Stillingfleet,  who  also  urged  this  point  of 
the  Trinity,  in  his  controversy  with  our  philoso- 
pher, received  no  answer ;  but,  in  a  letter  to  his 
relation,  afterwards  Lord  Chancellor  King,  he 
says  : — "  If  those  gentlemen  think  that  the  bishop 
hath  the  advantage  by  not  making  good  one  of 
those  many  propositions  in  debate  between  us,  but 
by  asking  a  question,  a  personal  question,  nothing 
to  the  purpose,  I  shall  not  envy  him  such  a  victo- 
ry. In  the  meantime,  if  this  be  all  they  have  to 
say,  the  world,  that  sees  not  with  their  eyes,  will 
see  what  disputants  for  truth  those  are,  who  make 
to  themselves  occasions  of  calumny,  and  think  that 
a  triumph.  The  Bishop  is  to  prove,  that  my  book 
has  something  in  it  that  is  inconsistent  with  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity ;  and  all  that  upon  exa- 
mination he  does,  is  to  ask  me  whether  I  believe 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  as  it  has  been  received 
in  the  Christian  church  7     A  worthy  proof!" 

This  is  all  we  have  observed  in  his  works  bear- 
ing directly  upon  this  point.  With  respect  to  the 
sense  in  which  he  supposes  the  phrase,  "  Son  of 
God,"  to  be  employed  in  the  Scriptures,  he  is  suf- 
ficiently explicit.  In  his  "  First  Vindication,"  he 
says : — "  If  the  sense  wherein  I  understand  those 
texts  (John,  xiv.  9,  &c.)  be  a  mistake,  I  shall  be 
beholden  to  you  if  you  wUl  set  me  right.  But 
they  are  not  popular  authorities,  or  frightful  names, 
whereby  I  judge  of  truth  or  falsehood.  You  wLJl 
now,  no  doubt,  applaud  your  conjectures :  the  point 
is  gained,  and  I  am  openly  a  Socinian,  since  I  will 
not  disown  that  I  think  the  '  Son  of  God '  was  a 
phrase  tiiat  among  the  Jews  in  our  Saviour's  time  . 
was  used  for  the  '  Messiah,'  though  the  Socinians 
understand  it  in  the  same  sense  ;  and  therefore  I 
must  certainly  be  of  their  persuasion  in  every 
thing  else.  I  admire  the  acuteness,  force,  and 
fairness  of  your  reasoning,  and  so  I  leave  you  to 
triumph  in  your  conjectures.  Only  I  must  desire 
you  to  take  notice,  that  that  ornament  of  our 
church,  and  every  way  eminent  prelate,  the  late 
Archbi^ihop  of  Canterbury,  understood  that  phrase 


APPENDIX. 


73 


in  the  same  sense  that  I  do,  without  being  a  So- 
cinian.  You  nmay  read  what  he  says  concerning' 
Nathaniel,  in  his  first  sermon,  '  Of  Sincerity,'  pub- 
hshed  this  year.  His  words  are  these  : — '  And 
being  satisfied  that  he — our  Saviour — was  the 
Messiah,  he  presently  owned  him  for  such,  calling 
him  the  Son  of  God,  and  the  King  of  Israel.'" 

Locke  afterwards  found  in  Patrick,  Bishop  of 
Ely's  "  Witnesses  to  Christianity,"  several  pas- 
sages in  support  of  liis  interpretation  of  the 
phrase,  "Son  of  God."  If,  therefore,  Mr.  Ed- 
w^ards  persisted  in  calling  him  a  Socinian,  to  be 
consistent,  he  must  bestow  the  same  epithet  on 
Bishop  Patrick,  who  says,  "  To  be  the  Son  of 
God,  and  to  be  Christ,  being  but  different  expres- 
sions of  the  same  thing;"  and,  "It  is  the  "ery 
same  thing  to  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  and 
to  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God,  express 
it  how  you  please.  This  alone  is  the  faith  which 
can  regenerate  a  man,  and  put  a  divine  spirit  into 
him  ;  that  is,  make  him  a  conqueror  over  the  world, 
as  Jesus  was."* 

This  leads  us  to  the  principal  subject  of  the  con- 
troversy. Locke  having  laid  down,  as  the  great 
basis  of  Christianity,  the  belief  that  Jesus  of  Na- 
zareth was  the  Messiah,  to  prove  which  is  the 
object  of  his  whole  treatise  on  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, Mr.  Edwards  accuses  him  of  reducing 
Christianity  to  one  article,  in  order  to  bring  it 
nearer  to  none.  This  might,  at  the  first  blush, 
have  caused  it  to  appear  that  Locke  desired  to 
exclude  the  belief  in  the  existence  of  a  God, 
which  was  manifestly  untrue.  To  excuse  himself, 
therefore,  for  dwelling  so  jocularly  on  the  "  one 
article,"  the  Unmasker  says : — "  When  I  told  him 
of  this  one  article,  he  knew  well  enough  that  I 
did  not  exclude  the  article  of  the  Deity,  for  that 
is  a  principle  of  natural  religion."  To  this  the 
philosopher  answers: — '^ow  should  I  know  it? 
He  never  told  me  so,  either  in  his  book  or  other- 
wise. This  I  know,  that  he  said  I  contended  for 
'one  article,  with  the  exclusion  of  all  the  rest.' 
If  then  the  belief  of  the  Deity  be  an  article  of 
faith,  and  be  not  the  article  of  Jesus  being  the 
Messiah,  it  is  one  '  of  the  rest ;'  and  if  all  the 
rest  were  excluded,  certainly  that  being  one  of 
all  the  rest,  must  be  excluded.  How  then  he 
could  say,  I  knew  that  he  excluded  it  not, — that 
is,  meant  not  that  I  excluded  it, — when  he  posi- 
tively says  I  did  exclude  it,  I  cannot  tell,  unless 
he  thought  that  I  knew  him  so  well,  that  when  he 
said  one  thing,  I  knew  that  he  meant  another,  and 
that  the  quite  contrary." 

Having  given  a  list,  which  has  already  been 
cited,  of  fundamental  truths,  Mr.  Edwards  ob- 
serves :  "From  what  I  have  said,  it  is  evident, 
that  the  Vindicator  is  grossly  mistaken,  when  he 
saith,  '  Whatever  doctrine  the  apostles  required 
to  be  believed  to  make  a  man  a  Cliristian,'  are  to 
be  found  in  those  places  of  Scripture  which  he 
has  quoted  in  his  book.  I  think  I  have  sufficiently 
proved  that  there  are  other  doctrines  besides  that, 
which  are  required  to  be  believed  to  make  a  man 
a  Christian." 

In  answer  to  this,  Locke  insists  that  all  his  ad- 
versary might  advance  would  signify  nothing,  un- 
less lie  could  prove  "  that  what  our  Saviour  and 


♦Witnesses  to  Christianity, p.  10,  14. 


his  apostles  preached,  and  admitted  men  into  the 
church  fpr  believing,  is  not  all  that  is  absolutely  re- 
quired to  make  a  man  a  Christian ;  or,  that  the 
behevmg  him  to  be  the  Messiah  was  not  the  only 
article  they  insisted  on,  to  those  who  acknowledged 
one  God ;  and  upon  the  belief  whereof  they  ad- 
mitted converts  into  the  church,  in  any  one  of 
those  many  places  quoted  by  me  out  of  the  history 
of  the  New  Testament."  He  then  proceeds  to 
show  that  if  those  admitted  into  the  church  by 
our  Saviour  and  his  apostles,  wore  admitted  with- 
out having  any  other  article  explicitly  laid  before 
them,  the  belief  of  no  other  article  is  necessary. 
"Unless,"  says  he,  "you  will  say  that  our  Saviour 
and  his  apostles  admitted  men  into  the  church  that 
were  not  qualified  with  such  a  faith  as  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  make  a  man  a  Christian; 
which  is  as  much  as  to  say,  that  they  allowed  and 
pronounced  men  to  be  Christians,  who  were  not 
Christians.  For  he  that  wants  what  is  necessary 
to  make  a  man  a  Christian,  can  no  more  be  a 
Christian  than  he  that  wants  what  is  necessary 
to  make  him  a  man  can  be  a  man." 

In  the  "  Reasonableness  of  Christianity"  Locke 
is  methodical,  clear,  concise.  He  encumbers  not 
his  argument  with  unnecessary  illustrations,  nor 
does  he  carry  forward  his  analysis  beyond  the 
limits  which  a  severe  judgment  may  approve.  In 
the  "  Second  Vindication"  the  reverse  of  all  this 
is  true.  He  appears  to  have  ill  digested  his  plan  ; 
not  to  have  considered  where  he  should  begin,  or 
where  end  ;  he  pauses,  and  exhausts  his  own  in- 
genuity, and  the  reader's  patience,  in  refuting 
some  pitiful  cavil,  in  repelling  scorn  with  scorn  ; 
and  loses  himself  in  a  maze  of  endless  repetitions. 
It  must,  moreover,  be  acknowledged,  that  through 
many  a  dreary  page  we  look  in  vain  for  any  trace 
of  that  superior  mind  which  gave  birth  to  the  "Es- 
say on  the  Human  Understanding,"  the  "  Letters 
on  Toleration,"  and  the  "  Treatise  on  Govern- 
ment ;"  and  though  some  striking  passages  do 
occur,  they  are  few,  and  hardly  compensate  for 
the  drudgery  which  must  lead  to  their  discovery. 
The  following  outline,  however,  of  the  whole 
scheme  of  natural  and  revealed  religion  is  worthy 
of  being  preserved. 

"As  men,"  he  observes,  "we  have  God  for  our 
King,  and  are  imder  the  law  of  reason :  as 
Christians,  we  have  Jesus  the  Messiah  for  our 
King,  and  are  under  the  law  revealed  by  him  in 
the  gospel.  And  though  every  Christian,  both  as 
a  Deist  and  a  Christian,  be  obliged  to  study  both 
the  law  of  nature  and  the  revealed  law,  that  in 
them  he  may  know  the  will  of  God,  and  of  Jesus 
Christ  whom'  he  hath  sent ;  yet  in  neither  of  these 
laws  is  there  to  be  found  a  select  sot  of  funda- 
mentals, distinct  from  the  rest,  which  are  to  make 
a  Deist  or  a  Christian.  But  he  that  believes  one 
eternal  invisible  God,  his  Lord  and  King,  ceases 
thereby  to  be  an  Atheist ;  and  he  that  believes 
Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah,  his  King,  ordained  by 
God,  thereby  becomes  a  Christian,  ib  delivered 
from  the  power  of  darkness,  and  is  translated  into 
the  kingdom  of  the  Son  of  God.  is  actually  within 
the  covenant  of  grace,  and  has  that  faith  which 
shall  be  imputed  to  him  for  righteousness ;  and  if 
he  continue  in  his  allegiance  to  this  his  king,  shall 
receive  the  reward — eternal  life." 

He  then  deprecates  the  practice,  too  common 


74 


APPENDIX 


among  theologians,  of  erecting  individual  views 
of  relTgion  into  systems,  and  endeavoring  to  force 
them  upon  mankind  ;  nearly  every  proposition  in 
the  Scriptures,  with  every  deduction  that  may  be 
drawn  from  it,  having  been,  by  some  one  or 
another,  advanced  as  a  necessary  article  of  faith. 
"  'Tis  no  wonder,  therefore,"  he  observes,  « there 
have  been  such  fierce  contests,  and  such  cruel 
havoc  made  amongst  Christians,  about  funda- 
mentals ;  whilst  every  one  would  set  up  his  sys- 
tem, upon  pain  of  fire  and  faggot  in  this,  and  hell- 
fire  in  the  other  world :  though  at  the  same  time, 
■whilst  he  is  exercismg  the  utmost  barbarities 
against  others,  to  prove  himself  a  true  Christian, 
he  professes  himself  so  ignorant  that  he  cannot 
tell,  or  so  uncharitable  that  he  will  not  tell,  what 
articles  are  absolutely  necessary  and  sufficient  to 
make  a  man  a  Christian.  If  there  be  any  such 
fundamentals,  as  it  is  certain  there  are,  it  is  as 
certain  they  must  be  very  plain." 

Against  the  idea  of  Christianity's  bemg  plain, 
and  reasonable,  and  intelligible,  Mr.  Edwards 
takes  violent  exception.  He  thinks  it  absurd 
that  the  vulgar  should  be  supposed  capable  of 
comprehending  all  the  truths  of  their  religion 
though,  at  the  same  time,  he  insists  there  i=. 
nothfng  in  the  Scriptures  not  necessary  to  be  be- 
heved ;  and,  as  it  seems  somewhat  harsh  to  re- 
quire a  man  to  believe  that  of  which  he  can  form 
no  idea,  he,  upon  second  thoughts,  but  without 
perceiving  he  is  conceding  a  point  to  Locke,  ad- 
mits  that  the  truths  of  the  gospel  are  as  clear  as 
clearness  can  make  them. 

Let  us  put  all  these  propositions  together  in 
Mr.  Edwards'  own  words,  to  show  upon  what  a 
logical  system  he  reasons.  "  Christianity  is  called 
a  mystery.  ...  All  things  in  Christianity  are  not 
plain,  and  exactly  level  to  every  common  appre- 
hension  Every  thing  in  Christianity  is 

not  clear,  and  intelligible,  and  comprehensible  by 
the  weakest  noddle"  Anon,  taking  another  view 
of  the  matter,  he  says  : — "  Why  did  the  apostles 
write  these  ?  was  it  not  that  those  they  wrote  to, 
might  give  their  assent  to  them  ?  Why  should 
not  every  one  of  these  evangelical  truths  be  be- 
lieved and  embraced?  They  are  in  our  Bibles 
for  that  very  purpose."  And,  as  a  reason  why 
they  should  be  believed,  he  says  they  are  "  intel- 
ligible and  plain ;"  that  there  is  no  "  ambiguity 
and  doubtfubess  in  them ;  they  shine  with  their 
own  liglit,  and  to  an  unprejudiced  eye,  are  plain 
evident,  and  illustrious." 

Upon  this  Locke  remarks  : — "  To  draw  the 
Unmaskcr  out  of  the  clouds,  and  prevent  his 
hiding  himself  hi  the  doubtfuhiess  of  his  expres. 
sions,  I  shall  desire  him  to  say  directly  whether 
the  articles  which  are  necessary  to  be  believed  to 
make  a  man  a  Christian,  and  particularly  those 
he  has  set  down  for  such,  are  all  plain  and  intelli- 
jrible,  and  such  as  may  be  understood  and  compre- 
hended (I  will  not  say  in  the  Unmasker's  ridicu- 
lous way,  '  by  the  weakest  noddles,'  but)  by  every 
illiterate  countryman  and  woman  capable  of  church 
communion  ?  If  he  says  yes,  then  all  mysteries 
are  excluded  out  of  his  articles  necessary  to  be 
helieved,  to  make  a  man  a  Christian.  For  that 
which  can  be  comprehended  by  every  day-laboror, 
every  poor  spinster,  that  is  a  member  of  the 
ciiurch,  cannot  be  a  mystery.    And  if  what  such 


illiterate  people  cannot  understand,  be  required  to 
be  believed  to  make  them  Christians,  the  greatest 
part  cf  mankind  are  shut  out  from  being  Chns- 

To  this,  by  anticipation,  Mr.  Edwards  an- 
swers :— "  There  is  a  difficulty  in  the  doctrine  of 
the  Trinity,  and  several  truths  of  the  gospel,  as 
to  the  exact  manner  of  the  things  themselves, 
which  we  shall  never  be  able  to  comprehend,  at 
least  on  this  side  heaven :  but  there  is  no  diffi- 
culty as  to  the  reality  and  certainty  of  them,  be- 
cause we  know  they  are  revealed  to  us  by  God 
in  the  Holy  Scriptures."  "  Which  answer,"  says 
Locke,  "  of  difficulty  in  the  manner,  and  no  diffi- 
culty  in  the  rcahty,  having  the  appearance  of  a 
distinction,  looks  Hke  learning  ;  but  when  it  comes 
to  be  apphed  to  the  case  in  hand,  will  scarce  af- 
ford us  sense.  The  question  is  about  a  proposi- 
tion to  be  beUeved,  which  must  first  necessarily 
be  understood.  For  a  man  cannot  possibly  give 
his  assent  to  any  affirmation  or  negation,  unless 
he  understand  the  terms  as  they  are  joined  in  that 
proposition,  and  has  a  conception  of  the  thing  af- 
firmed or  denied ;  and  also  a  conception  of  the 
thing  concernmg  which  it  is  affirmed  or  denied, 
as  they  are  there  put  together.  But  let  the  pro- 
position be  what  it  will,  there  is  no  more  to  be 
understood  than  is  expressed  in  the  terms  of  that 
proposition.  If  it  be  a  proposition  concerning  a 
matter  of  fact,  it  is  enough  to  conceive,  and  be- 
lieve the  matter  of  fact.  If  it  be  a  proposition 
concerning  the  manner  of  the  fact,  the  manner 
of  the  fact  must  also  be  believed,  as  it  is  intelli- 
gibly expressed  in  that  proposition :  v.  g.  should 
this  proposition,  vcupol  iydpovrai,  be  offered  as  an 
article  of  faith  to  an  illiterate  countryman  oi 
England,  he  could  not  believe  it ;  because,  though 


a  true  proposition,  yet  it  being  proposed,  in  words 
whose  meaning  he  uncferstood  not,  he  could  not 

five  any  assent  to  it.  Put  it  in  English,  he  un- 
erstands  what  is  meant  by  '  the  dead  shall  rise.' 
For  he  can  conceive,  that  the  same  man  who  was 
dead  and  senseless,  should  be  alive  agam  ;  as  well 
as  he  can  that  the  same  man  who  is  now  in  a 
lethargy,  should  awake  again ;  or  the  same  man 
that  is  now  out  of  his  sight,  and  he  knows  not 
whether  he  be  alive  or  dead,  should  return  and 
be  with  him  agaui ;  and  so  he  is  capable  of  be- 
lieving it,  though  he  conceives  nothing  of  the 
manner  how  a  man  revives,  wakes  or  moves. 
But  none  of  these  manners  of  those  actions  being 
included  in  those  propositions,  the  proposition  con- 
cernmg the  matter  of  fact — if  it  imply  no  contra- 
diction in  it — may  be  believed ;  and  so  all  that  is 
required  may  be  done,  whatever  difficulty  may  be 
as  to  the  exact  manner  how  it  is  brought  about. 

"  But  where  the  proposition  is  about  the  man- 
ner, the  belief  too  must  be  of  tlie  manner  ;  v.  g. 
the  article  is,  '  the  dead  shall  be  raised  with  spi- 
ritual bodies  ;'  and  then  the  belief  must  be  as  well 
of  tliis  manner  of  the  fact  as  of  the  fact  itself.  So 
that  what  is  said  here  by  the  Unmasker  about  the 
manner,  signifies  nothing  at  all  in  the  case. — 
What  is  understood  to  be  expressed  in  each  pro- 
position, whether  it  be  of  the  manner,  or  not  of  the 
manner,  is — by  its  being  a  revelation  from  God — 
to  be  believed,  as  far  as  it  is  understood  :  but  no 
more  is  required  to  be  believed,  concerning  any 
article,  than  is  contained  in  that  article. 


«  What  the  Unmasker,  for  the  removing  of  diffi- 
culties, adds  further,  in  these  words : — '  But  there 
is  no  difficulty  as  to  the  reality  and  certainty  of 
the  truths  of  the  gospel,  because  we  know  they 
are  revealed  to  us  by  God  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,' 
is  yet  fiu-ther  from  signifying  any  thing  to  the  pur- 
pose, than  the  former.  The  question  is  about  un- 
derstanding, and,  in  what  sense  they  are  under- 
stood, believing  several  propositions,  or  articles  of 
faith,  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  Scripture.  To 
this  the  Unmasker  says,  there  can  be  '  no  diffi- 
culty at  all  as  to  their  reality  and  certainty,  be- 
cause they  are  revealed  by  God.'  Which  amounts 
to  no  more  than  this  :  that  there  is  no  difficulty 
in  the  understanding  and  beheving  this  proposi- 
tion— that  whatever  is  revealed  by  God  is  really 
and  certainly  true.  But  is  the  understanding  and 
believing  this  single  proposition,  the  understand- 
ing and  believing  all  the  articles  of  faith  necessary 
to  be  believed  ?  Is  this  all  the  explicit  faith  a 
Christian  need  have  1  If  so,  then  a  Christian  need 
exphcitly  beheve  no  more  but  this  one  proposition, 
viz.  that  all  the  propositions  between  the  two 
covers  of  his  Bible,  are  certainly  true.  But  I  ima- 
gme  the  Unmasker  wiU  not  think  the  beheving 
this  one  proposition  is  a  sufficient  behef  of  all  those 
fundamental  articles,  which  he  has  given  us  as 
necessary  to  be  believed,  to  make  a  man  a  Chris- 
tian. For,  if  that  vvUl  serve  the  turn,  I  conclude 
he  may  make  his  set  of  fundamentals  as  large  and 
express  to  his  system  as  he  pleases  :  Calvinists, 
Arminians,  Anabaptists,  Socinians,  will  all  thus 
own  the  belief  of  them  ;  viz.  that  all  that  God  has 
revealed  in  the  Scriptures  is  reaUy  and  certainly 
true." 

Between  the  publication  of  the  several  editions 


of  the  «  Essjs^r  on  the  Human  Understanding," 
which  appeared  during  his  hfetime,  Locke  chang- 
ed his  opinion  on  more  than  one  point ;  and,  hke 
an  honest  and  independent  thinker,  he  was  always 
carefiil  to  acknowledge  this  change.  This,  among 
other  tilings,  was  the  case  with  the  use  of  syllo- 
gisms. For  in  book  iv.  ch.  17,  « I  grant,"  says 
he,  "  that  mood  and  figure  is  commonly  made  use 
of  in  such  cases,  (in  the  discovery  of  fallacies,)  as 
if  the  detection  of  the  incoherence  of  such  loose 
discourses  were  wholly  owing  to  the  syllogistical 
form  ;  and  so  I  myself  formerly  thought,  till  upon 
a  stricter  examination  I  now  find,  that  laying  the 
intermediate  ideas  naked,  in  their  due  order,  shows 
the  incoherence  of  the  argumentation  better  than 
syllogism."  His  opinions,  however,  on  this  point, 
were  fluctuating ;  for  in  his  "  Second  Vindica- 
tion," speaking  of  the  fallacies  and  incoherences 
of  his  antagonist,  he  has  these  words  : — "  Nay,  if 
he,  or  any  body,  in  the  112  pages  of  his  '  Soci- 
nianisra  Unmasked,'  can  find  but  ten  arguments 
that  will  bear  the  test  of  sylhgisin,  the  true  icmch- 
stone  of  right  arguing,  I  will  grant  that  that  trea- 
tise deserves  all  those  commendations  he  has  be- 
stowed upon  it ;  though  it  be  made  up  more  of  his 
own  panegyric  than  a  confutation  of  me." 

We  have  here  given  a  concise  view  of  the  con- 
troversy, every  where  employing,  as  far  as  possi- 
ble, the  words  of  the  writers  themselves  ;  but,  it 
must  be  confessed,  our  outline  is  far  from  being 
complete ;  it  being  impossible,  perhaps,  to  con- 
dense into  so  small  a  space,  the  matter  of  so  many 
bulky  volumes.  If  the  reader  is  desirous  of  exa- 
mining the  subject  at  greater  length,  we  must, 
therefore,  refer  him  to  the  original  works,  where  he 
will  find  more  than  enough  to  satisfy  his  curiosity. 


A IS    ESSAY 
FOR  THE  UNDERSTANDING  OF  ST.  PAUL'S  EPISTLES. 


Locke  having,  in  his  controversy  with  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, had  his  attention  frequently  and  forcibly 
directed  to  the  epistles  of  St.  Paul,  which,  in  his 
work  on  Christianity,  he  was  accused  of  keeping 
purposely  out  of  sight,  betook  himself,  with  re- 
newed diligence,  to  the  study  of  those  parts  of 
Scripture.  The  result  of  these  studies,  under- 
taken in  a  mature  age,  and  furthered  by  every 
help  that  learning  or  philosophy  could  furnish, 
was  "  A  paraphrase  and  Notes  on  the  Epistles  of 
St.  Paul  to  the  Galatians,  Corinthians,  Romans, 
and  Ephesians."  To  this  work,  not  published 
until  after  the  philosopher's  death,  was  prefixed, 
"An  Essay  for  the  Understanding  of  St.  Paul's 
Epistles,  by  consulting  St.  Paul  himself,"  written 
in  the  best  manner  of  its  distinguished  author. 
But,  notwithstanding  its  singular  excellences,  it 
appears  to  have  hitherto  attracted  comparatively 
little  notice.  No  collection  of  religious  works,  so 
far  as  I  know,  contains  it ;  nor  has  it  ever,  I  be- 
lieve, been  detached  from  the  Paraphrase  and 
Notes,  and  published  in  a  separate  form.  I  trust, 
however,  the  reader  will  quickly  perceive  its 
great  value,  not  merely  as  a  literary  composition, 
though  in  that  respect  also  it  be  a  remarkable 
work  ;  but  as  showing  how  earnestly  and  inces- 
santly the  noblest  minds  have  labored  to  master 
the  sense  of  the  Apostle  to  the  Gentiles ;  thus,  by 
their  example,  encouraging  others  to  the  under- 
taking, which  he  who  properly  enters  on  will 
consider  no  task. — Ed. 


To  go  about  to  explain  any  of  St.  Paul's  epistles, 
after  so  gi-eat  a  train  of  expositors  and  commen- 
tators, might  seem  an  attempt  of  vanity,  censur- 
able for  its  needlessness,  did  not  the  daily  and  ap- 
proved examples  of  pious  and  learned  men  justify 
it.  This  may  be  some  excuse  for  me  to  the  pub- 
lic, if  ever  these  following  papers  should  chance 
to  come  abroad  :  but  to  myself,  for  whose  use 
this  work  was  undertaken,  I  need  no  apology. 
Though  I  had  been  conversant  in  these  epistles, 
as  well  as  in  other  parts  of  sacred  Scripture,  yet 
I  found  that  I  understood  them  not — I  mean  the 
doctrinal  and  discursive  parts  of  them :  though 
the  practical  directions,  which  are  usually  drop- 
ped in  the  latter  part  of  each  epistle,  appeared 
to  me  very  plain,  intelligible,  and  instructive. 

I  did  not,  when  I  reflected  on  it,  very  much 
wonder  that  this  part  of  sacred  Scripture  had  diffi- 
culties in  it :  many  causes  of  obscurity  did  rea- 


dily occur  to  me.  The  nature  of  epistolary  wri- 
tings in  general,  disposes  the  writer  to  pass  by  the 
mentioning  of  many  things,  as  well  known  to 
him  to  whom  his  letter  is  addressed,  which  are 
necessary  to  be  laid  open  to  a  stranger,  to  make 
him  comprehend  what  is  said  :  and  it  not  seldonj 
falls  out,  that  a  well-penned  letter,  which  is  very 
easy  and  intelligible  to  the  receiver,  is  very  ob- 
scure to  a  stranger,  who  hardly  knows  what  to 
make  of  it.  The  matters  that  St.  Paul  wrote 
about,  were  certainly  things  well  known  to  tiiose 
he  wrote  to,  and  which  they  had  some  peculiar 
concern  in,  which  made  them  easily  apprehend 
his  meaning,  and  see  the  tendency  and  force  of 
his  discourse.  But  we  having  now,  at  this  dis- 
tance, no  information  of  the  occasion  of  bis  wri- 
ting, Httle  or  no  knowledge  of  the  temper  and  cir- 
cumstances those  he  wrote  to  were  in,  but  what 
is  to  be  gathered  out  of  the  epistles  themselves, 
it  is  not  strange  that  many  things  in  them  lie  con- 
cealed to  us,  which  no  doubt  they  who  were  con- 
cerned in  the  letter  understood  at  first  sight.  Add 
to  this,  that  in  many  places  it  is  manifest  he  an- 
swers letters  sent,  and  questions  proposed  to  him, 
which  if  we  had,  would  much  better  clear  those 
passages  that  relate  to  them,  than  all  the  learned 
notes  of  critics  and  commentators,  who  in  after- 
times  fill  us  with  their  conjectures ;  for  very  often, 
as  to  the  matter  in  hand,  they  are  nothing  else.  . 
The  language  whereui  these  epistles  are  writ- 
ten are  another,  and  that  no  small  occasion  of 
their  obscurity  to  us  now  :  the  words  are  Greek, 
a  language  dead  many  ages  since  ;  a  language  of 
a  very  witty  volatile  people,  seekers  after  novelty, 
and  abounding  with  a  variety  of  notions  and  sects, 
to  which  they  applied  the  terms  of  their  common 
tongue  with  great  liberty  and  variety ;  and  yet  this 
makes  but  one  small  part  of  the  difficulty  in  the 
language  of  these  epistles  ;  there  is  a  peculiarity 
in  it,  that  much  more  obscures  and  perplexes  the 
meaning  of  these  writings,  than  what  can  be  occa- 
sioned by  the  looseness  and  variety  of  the  Greek 
tongue.  The  terms  are  Greek,  but  the  idiom  or 
turn  of  the  phrases  may  be  truly  said  to  be  Hebrew 
or  Syriac.  The  custom  and  familiarity  of  which 
tongues,  do  sometimes  so  far  influence  the  expres- 
sions in  these  epistles,  that  one  may  observe  the 
force  of  the  Hebrew  conjugations,  particularly  that 
of  Hiphil,  given  to  Greek  verbs,  in  a  way  unknown 
to  the  Grecians  themselves.  Nor  is  this  all :  the 
subject  treated  of  in  these  epistles  is  so  wholly 
new,  and  the  doctrines  contained  in  them  so  per- 
fectly remote  from  the  notions  that  mankind  were 
acquainted  with,  that  most  of  the  important  terms 
in  it  have  quite  another  signification  from  what 
they  have  in  other  discourses  :  so  that  putting  all 
together,  we  may  truly  say,  that  the  New  Testa- 


AN    ESSAY    ON    ST.    PAUL'S    EPISTLES. 


77 


ment  is  a  book  written  in  a  language  peculiar  to 
itself. 

To  these  causes  of  obscurity,  common  to  St. 
Paul  with  most  of  the  other  penmen  of  the  several 
books  of  the  New  Testament,  we  may  add  those 
that  are  peculiarly  his,  and  owing  to  his  style  and 
temper.  He  was,  as  it  is  visible,  a  man  of  quick 
thought  and  warm  temper,  mighty  well  versed  in 
the  writings  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  full  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  New.  All  this  put  together,  sug- 
gested matter  to  him  in  abundance  on  those  sub- 
jects which  came  in  his  way ;  so  that  one  may 
consider  him,  when  he  was  writing,  as  beset  with 
a  crowd  of  tlioughts,  all  striving  for  utterance. 
In  this  posture  of  mind  it  was  almost  impossible 
for  him  to  keep  that  slow  pace,  and  observe  mi- 
nutely that  order  and  method  of  ranging  all  he 
said,  from  which  results  an  easy  and  obvious  per- 
spicuity. To  this  plenty  and  vehemence  of  liis, 
may  be  imputed  those  many  large  parentheses, 
which  a  careful  reader  may  observe  in  his  epistles. 
Upon  this  account  also  it  is,  that  he  often  breaks 
off  in  the  middle  of  an  argument,  to  let  in  some 
new  thought  suggested  by  his  own  words  ;  wliich 
having  pursued  and  explained,  as  far  as  conduced 
to  his  present  purpose,  he  reassumes  again  the 
thread  of  his  discourse,  and  goes  on  with  it,  with- 
out taking  any  notice  that  he  returns  again  to 
what  he  had  been  before  saying,  though  some- 
times it  be  so  far  off,  that  it  may  well  have  slipt 
out  of  his  mind,  and  requires  a  very  attentive  rea- 
der to  observe,  and  so  bring  the  disjointed  mem- 
bers together,  as  to  make  up  the  connection,  and 
see  how  the  scattered  parts  of  the  discourse  Jiang 
together  in  a  coherent,  well-agreeing  sense,  that 
makes  it  all  of  a  piece. 

Besides  the  disturbance  in  perusing  St.  Paul's 
epistles,  from  the  plenty  and  vivacity  of  his  thoughts, 
which  may  obscure  his  method,  and  often  hide  his 
sense  from  an  unwary,  or  over-hasty  reader  ;  the 
frequent  changing  of  the  personage  he  speaks  in, 
renders  the  sense  very  uncertain,  and  is  apt  to 
mislead  one  tliat  has  not  some  clue  to  guide  him  : 
— sometimes  by  the  pronoun  I,  he  means  himself, 
sometimes  any  Christian  ;  sometimes  a  Jew,  and 
sometimes  any  man,  &c.  If  speaking  of  himself 
in  the  first  person  singular  has  so  various  mean- 
ings, his  use  of  the  first  person  plural  is  witli  a  far 
greater  latitude ;  sometimes  designing  liimsejf 
alone,  sometimes  those  with  himself,  whom  he 
makes  partners  to  the  epistle  ;  sometimes  with 
himself  comprehending  the  other  apostles,  or 
preachers  of  the  gospel,  or  Christians :  nay, 
sometimes  he  in  that  way  speaks  of  the  converted 
Jews,  other  times  of  the  converted  Gentiles,  and 
sometimes  of  others,  in  a  more  or  less  extended 
sense,  every  one  of  whicii  varies  the  meaning  of 
the  place,  and  makes  it  to  be  differently  under- 
stood. I  have  forborne  to  trouble  the  reader  with 
examples  of  them  here.  If  his  own  observation 
hath  not  already  furnished  him  with  them,  a  little 
attention  will  satisfy  him  in  the  point. 

In  the  current  also  of  his  discourse,  he  some- 
times drops  in  the  objections  of  others,  and  his 
answers  to  them,  without  any  change  in  the 
scheme  of  liis  language,  that  might  give  notice  of 
any  other  speaking  besides  himself.  This  re- 
quires great  attention  to  observe  ;  and  yet  if  it 
be  neglected  or  overlooked,  will  make  the  reader 
81  '19) 


very  much  mistake,  and  misunderstand  his  mean* . 
ing,  and  render  the  sense  very  perplexed. 

These  are  intrinsic  difficulties  arising  from  the 
text  itself,  whereof  there  might  be  a  great  many 
other  named,  as  the  uncertainty,  sometimes,  who 
are  the  persons  he  speaks  to,  or  the  opinions  or 
practices  which  he  has  in  his  eye  ;  sometimes  in 
alluding  to  them,  sometimes  in  his  exhortations 
and  reproofs.  But  those  above  mentioned  being 
the  chief,  it  may  suffice  to  have  opened  our  eyes 
a  little  upon  them,  which,  well  examined,  may  con- 
tribute towards  our  discovery  of  the  rest. 

To  these  we  may  subjoin  two  external  causes 
that  have  made  no  small  increase  of  the  native 
and  original  difficulties  that  keep  us  from  an  easy 
and  assured  discovery  of  St.  Paul's  sense,  in  many 
parts  of  his  epistles  ;  and  those  are. 

First,  The  dividing  of  them  into  chapters  and 
verses,  as  we  have  done,  whereby  they  are  so 
chopped  and  minced,  and  as  they  are  now  printed, 
stand  so  broken  and  divided,  that  not  only  the 
common  people  take  the  verses  usually  for  distinct 
aphorisms,  but  even  men  of  more  advanced  know- 
ledge, in  reading  them;  lose  very  much  of, the 
strength  and  force  of  the  coherence,  and  the  light 
that  depends  on  it.  Our  minds  are  so  weak  and 
narrow,  that  they  have  need  of  all  the  helps  and 
assistances  that  can  be  procured,  to  lay  before 
them  undisturbedly,  the  thread  and  coherence  of 
any  discourse  ;  by  which  alone  they  are  truly  im- 
proved and  lead  into  the  genuine  sense  of  the  au- 
thor. When  the  eye  is  constantly  disturbed  with 
loose  sentences,  that  by  their  standing  and  sepa- 
ration appear  as  so  many  distinct  fragments,  the 
mind  will  have  much  ado  to  take  in,  and  carry  on 
in  its  memory  an  uniform  discourse  of  dependent 
reasonings  ;  especially  having  from  the  cradle 
been  used  to  wrong  impressions  concerning  them, 
and  constantly  accustomed  to  hear  them  quoted 
as  distinct  sentences,  without  any  limitation  or 
explication  of  their  precise  meaning  from  the 
place  they  stand  in,  and  the  relation  they  bear  to 
what  goes  before,  or  follows.  These  divisions, 
also,  have  given  occasion  to  the  reading  these 
epistles  by  parcels  and  in  scraps,  which  has  fur- 
ther confirmed  the  evil  arising  from  such  parti- 
tions. And  I  doubt  not  but  every  one  will  confess 
it  to  be  a  very  unlikely  way  to  come  to  the  under- 
standing of  any  other  letters,  to  read  them  piece- 
meal, a  bit  to-day  and  another  scrap  to-morrow, 
and  so  on,  by  broken  intervals  ;  especially  if  the 
pause  and  cessation  would  be  made  as  the  chap- 
ters tlie  apostle's  epistles  are  divided  into,  ending 
sometimes  in  the  middle  of  a  discourse,  and 
sometimes  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence.  It  cannot 
therefore  but  be  wondered,  that  that  should  be 
permitted  to  be  done  to  Holy  Writ,  which  would 
visibly  disturb  the  sense,  and  hinder  the  under- 
standing of  any  other  book  whatsoever.  If  Tul- 
ly's  epistles  were  so  printed,  and  so  used,  I  ask 
whether  they  would  not  be  much  harder  to  be 
understood,  less  easy  and  less  pleasant  to  be  read 
by  much,  than  now  they  are  1 

How  plain  soever  this  abuse  is,  and  what  preju- 
dice soever  it  does  to  the  understanding  of  the  sa- 
cred Scripture,  yet  if  a  Bible  was  printed  as  it 
should  be,  and  as  the  several  parts  of  it  were  writ- 
ten, in  continued  discourses  where  the  argument  is 
continued,  I  doubt  not  but  the  several  r  --ties  would 


78 


AN    ESSAY    ON    ST.    PAUL'S    EPISTLES. 


compiain  of  it  aa  an  innovation,  and  a  dangerous 
change  in  the  publishing  those  lioly  books.  And 
indeed  those  who  are  for  maintaining  tlieir  opinions 
and  the  systems  of  parties  by  sound  of  words,  with 
a  neglect  of  the  true  sense  of  Scripture,  would  have 
reason  to  make  and  foment  the  outcry.  They 
would  most  of  them  be  immediately  disarmed  of 
their  great  magazine  of  artiEery  wherewith  they 
defend  themselves,  and  fall  upon  others,  if  the  holy 
Scriptures  were  but  laid  before  the  eyes  of  Chris- 
tians in  its  due  connection  and  consistency  :  it 
would  not  then  be  so  easy  to  snatch  out  a  few 
words,  as  if  they  were  separate  from  the  rest,  to 
serve  a  purpose,  to  which  they  do  not  at  all  be- 
long, and  with  which  they  have  nothing  to  do. 
But  as  the  matter  now  stands,  he  that  has  a  mind 
to  it  may,  at  a  cheap  rate,  be  a  notable  champion 
for  the  truth  ;  that  is,  for  the  doctrines  of  the  sect 
that  chance  or  interest  has  cast  him  into.  He 
need  but  be  furnished  with  verses  of  sacred 
Scripture,  containing  words  and  expressions  that 
are  but  flexible,  (as  all  general,  obscure,  and 
doubtful  ones  are,)  and  his  system,  that  has  appro- 
priated them  to  the  orthodoxy  of  his  church,  makes 
them  immediately  strong  and  irrefragable  argu- 
ments for  hie  opinion.  This  is  the  benefit  of  loose 
sentences,  and  Scripture  crumbled  into  verses, 
which  quickly  turn  into  independent  aphorisms. 
But  if  the  quotation  in  the  verse  produced  were 
considered  as  a  part  of  a  continued  coherent  dis- 
course, and  so  its  sense  were  limited  by  the  tenor 
of  the  context,  most  of  these  forward  and  warm 
disputants  would  be  quite  stripped  of  those,  wliich 
they  doubt  not  now  to  call  spiritual  weapons  ;  and 
they  would  have  often  nothing  to  say  that  would 
not  show  their  weakness,  and  manifestly  fly  in  their 
faces.  I  crave  leave  to  set  down  a  saying  of  tlie 
learned  and  judicious  Mr.  Selden  :  "In  interpret- 
ing the  Scripture,"  says  he,  "  many  do  as  if  a  man 
should  see  one  have  ten  pounds,  which  he  reckon- 
ed by  1,  2, ;},  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9, 10  ;  meaning  four  was 
but  four  units,  and  five  five  imits,  &c. :  and  that 
he  had  in  all  but  ten  pounds.  The  other  that  sees 
him,  takes  not  the  figures  together,  as  he  doth,  but 
picks  here  and  there  ;  and  thereupon  reports  that 
he  had  five  pounds  in  one  bag,  and  six  pounds  in 
another  bag,  and  nine  pounds  in  another  bag,  &c., 
when,  as  in  truth,  he  has  but  ten  pounds  in  all.  So 
we  pick  out  a  text  here  and  there,  to  make  it  serve 
our  turn ;  whereas  if  we  take  it  altogether,  and 
consider  what  went  before,  and  what  followed  after, 
we  should  find  it  meant  no  such  thing."  I  have 
heard  sober  Christians  very  much  admire  why  or- 
dinary illiterate  people,  who  were  professors,  that 
showed  a  concern  for  religion,  seemed  much  more 
conversant  in  St.  Paul's  epistles,  than  in  the  plain- 
er,  and  as  it  seemed  to  them,  much  more  intelligible 
parts  of  the  New  Testament :  they  confessed,  that 
though  they  road  St.  Paul's  epistles  with  their  best 
attention,  yet  they  generally  found  them  too  hard 
to  be  mastered  ;  and  they  labored  in  vain  so  far  to 
reach  the  apostle's  moaning  all  along,  in  the  train 
of  what  he  said,  as  to  read  them  with  that  satis- 
faction tliat  arises  from  a  feeling  that  we  under- 
stand and  fully  comprehend  the  force  and  reason- 
ing of  an  author ;  and  therefore  they  could  not 
imagine  what  those  saw  in  them,  whose  eyes  they 
thought  not  much  better  than  their  own.  But  the 
case  was  plain :  these  sober,  inquisitive  readers 


had  a  mind  to  see  nothing  in  St.  Paul's  epistles 
but  just  what  he  meant :  whereas  those  others  of 
a  quicker  and  gayer  sight  could  see  in  them  what 
they  pleased.  Nothing  is  more  acceptable  to  fancy 
than  pliant  terms  and  expressions  that  are  not  ob- 
stinate ;  in  such  it  can  find  its  account  with  de- 
light, and  with  them  be  illuminated,  orthodox,  in- 
fallible at  pleasure,  and  in  its  own  way.  But 
where  the  sense  of  the  author  goes  visibly  in  its 
own  train,  and  the  words  receiving  a  determined 
sense  from  their  companions  and  adjacents,  will 
not  consent  to  give  countenance  and  color  to  what 
is  agreed  to  be  right,  and  must  be  supported  at 
any  rate,  there  men  of  established  orthodoxy  do 
not  so  well  find  their  satisfaction.  And,  perhaps, 
if  it  were  well  examined,  it  would  be  no  very  ex- 
travagant paradox  to  say,  that  there  are  fewer  that 
bring  their  opinions  to  the  sacred  Scripture  to  be 
tried  by  that  infallible  rule,  than  bring  the  sacred 
Scriptures  to  their  opinions,  to  bend  it  to  them,  to 
make  it  as  they  can  a  cover  and  guard  of  them. 
And  to  this  purpose  its  being  divided  into  verses, 
and  brought  as  much  as  may  be  into  loose  and 
general  aphorisms,  makes  it  most  useful  and  ser- 
viceable. And  in  this  lies  the  other  great  cause 
of  obscurity  and  perplexedness,  which  has  been 
cast  upon  St.  Paul's  epistles  from  without. 

St.  Paul's  epistles,  as  they  stand  translated  in 
our  English  Bibles,  are  now  by  long  and  constant 
use,  become  a  part  of  the  English  language,  and 
common  phraseology,  especially  in  matters  of  re- 
ligion. This  every  one  uses  familiarly,  and  thinks 
he  understands  ;  but  it  must  be  observed,  that  if 
he  has  a  distinct  meaning  when  he  uses  those 
words  and  phrases,  and  knows  himself  what  he  in- 
tends by  them,  it  is  always  according  to  the  sense 
of  his  own  system,  and  the  articles  or  interpreta- 
tions of  the  society  he  is  engaged  in.  So  that  all 
this  knowledge  and  understanding  which  he  has 
in  the  use  of  these  passages  of  sacred  Scripture, 
reaches  no  further  than  this,  that  he  knows  (and 
that  is  very  well)  what  he  himself  says,  but  there- 
by knows  nothing  at  all  what  St.  Paul  said  in  them. 
The  apostle  wrote  not  by  that  man's  system,  and 
so  his  meaning  cannot  be  known  by  it.  This  being 
the  ordinary  way  of  understanding  the  epistles, 
and  every  sect  being  perfectly  orthodox  in  its  own 
judgment,  what  a  great  and  invincible  darkness 
must  this  cast  upon  St.  Paul's  meaning  to  all  those 
of  that  wa}',  in  all  those  places  where  liis  thoughts 
and  sense  run  counter  to  what  any  party  has 
espoused  for  orthodox  ;  as  it  must  unavoidably  to 
all  but  one  of  the  dilferent  systems,  in  all  those 
passages  that  any  way  relate  to  the  points  in  con- 
troversy between  them  1 

This  is  a  mischief  which,  however  frequent  and 
almost  natural,  reaches  so  far,  that  it  would  justly 
make  all  those  who  depend  upon  them,  wholly  dif- 
fident of  commentators,  and  let  them  see  how  little 
help  was  to  be  expected  from  them,  in  relying  on 
them  for  the  true  sense  of  the  sacred  Scripture, 
did  they  not  take  care  to  help  to  cozen  themselves, 
by  choosing  to  use  and  pin  tiieir  faith  on  such  ex- 
positors as  explain  the  sacred  Scripture  in  favor  of 
those  opinions  that  they  beforehand  have  voted  or- 
thodox, and  bring  to  the  sacred  Scripture,  not  for 
trial,  but  confirmation.  Nobody  can  think  that 
any  text  of  St.  Paul's  epistles  has  two  contrary 
meanings ;  and  yet  so  it  must  have  to  two  differ- 


AN    ESSAY   ON    ST.    PAUL'S    EPISTLES 


79 


ent  men,  who  taking  two  commentators  of  different 
sects  for  their  respective  guides  into  the  sense  of 
any  one  of  the  epistles,  shall  build  upon  their  re- 
spective expositions.  We  need  go  no  further  for 
a  proof  of  it,  than  the  notes  of  the  two  celebrated 
commentators  on  the  New  Testament,  Dr.  Ham- 
mond and  Beza,  both  men  of  parts  and  learning, 
and  both  thought,  by  their  followers,  men  mighty 
in  the  sacred  Scriptures.  So  that  here  we  see 
the  hopes  of  great  benefit  and  light  from  exposi- 
tors and  commentators  is,  in  a  great  part,  abated  ; 
and  those  who  have  most  need  of  tlieir  help  can 
receive  but  little  from  them,  and  can  have  verj'  little 
assurance  of  reaching  the  apostle's  sense  by  what 
they  find  in  them,  whilst  matters  remain  in  the 
same  state  they  are  in  at  present.  For  those  who 
find  they  need  help,  and  would  borrow  light  from 
expositors,  either  consult  only  those  who  have  the 
good  luck  to  be  thought  sound  and  orthodox, 
avoiding  those  of  different  sentiments  from  them- 
selves in  the  great  and  approved  points  of  their 
systems,  as  dangerous,  and  not  fit  to  be  meddled 
with  ;  or  else  with  indifferency  look  into  the  notes 
of  all  commentators  promiscuously.  The  first  of 
these  take  pains  only  to  confirm  themselves  in  the 
opinions  and  tenets  they  have  already,  wJiich, 
whether  it  be  the  way  to  get  the  true  meaning  of 
what  St.  Paul  delivered  is  easy  to  determine.  The 
others,  with  much  more  fairness  to  themselves, 
though  with  reaping  httle  more  advantage,  (unless 
they  have  something  else  to  guide  them  into  the 
apostle's  meaning  than  the  comments  themselves,) 
seek  help  on  all  hands,  and  refuse  not  to  be  taught 
by  any  one,  who  offers  to  enlighten  them  in  any 
of  tlie  dark  passages.  But  here  though  they 
avoid  the  mischief  which  the  others  fall  into,  of 
being  confined  in  their  sense,  and  seeing  nothing 
but  that  in  St.  Paul's  writings,  be  it  right  or  wrong, 
yet  they  run  into  as  great  on  the  other  side,  and 
instead  of  being  confirmed  in  the  meaning  that 
they  thought  they  saw  in  the  text,  are  distracted 
with  an  hundred,  suggested  by  those  they  advis- 
ed with  ;  and  so,  instead  of  that  one  sense  of 
the  Scripture,  which  they  carried  with  them  to 
their  commentators,  return  from  them  with  none 
at  all. 

This  indeed  seems  to  make  the  case  desperate ; 
for,  if  the  comments  and  expositions  of  pious  and 
learned  men  cannot  be  depended  on,  whither  shall 
we  go  for  help  ]  To  which  I  answer,  I  would  not 
be  mistaken,  as  if  I  thought  the  labors  of  the 
learned  in  this  case  wholly  lost,  and  fruitless. 
There  is  great  use  and  benefit  to  be  made  of  them, 
when  we  have  once  got  a  rule  to  know  which  of 
their  expositions,  in  the  great  variety  there  is  of 
them,  explains  the  words  and  phrases  according  to 
the  apostle's  meaning.  TiU  then  it  is  evident, 
from  what  is  above  said,  they  serve  for  the  most 
part  to  no  other  use,  but  either  to  make  us  find  our 
own  sense,  and  not  his,  in  St.  Paul's  words,  or  else 
to  find  in  them  no  settled  sense  at  all. 

Here  it  will  be  asked,  how  shall  we  come  by 
this  rule  you  mention  ?  Where  is  that  touchstone 
to  be  had,  that  will  show  us  whether  the  meaning 
we  ourselves  put,  or  take  as  put  by  others  upon 
St  Paul's  words  in  his  epistles,  be  truly  his  mean-  j 
ing  or  no !  I  will  not  say  the  way  which  I  pro-  j 
pose,  and  have  in  the  following  paraphrase  follow- 
ed, v/ill  make  us  infallible  in  our  interpctations  of  i 


the  apostle's  text ;  but  this  I  will  own,  that  till  I 
took  this  way,  St.  Paul's  epistles  to  me,  in  the  or- 
dinary way  of  reading  and  studying  them,  were 
very  obscure  parts  of  Scripture,  that  left  me  almost 
every  where  at  a  loss  :  and  I  was  at  a  great  un- 
certainty in  whicli  of  the  contrary  senses,  that 
were  to  be  found  in  his  commentators,  he  was  to  be 
taken.  Whether  what  I  have  done  has  made  it 
any  clearer  and  more  visible  now,  I  must  leave 
others  to  judge.  This  I  beg  leave  to  say  for  my- 
self, that  if  some  very  sober  judicious  Christians, 
no  strangers  to  the  sacred  Scriptures ;  nay,  learn- 
ed divines  of  the  church  of  England,  had  not 
professed  that  by  the  perusal  of  tiiese  following 
papers  they  understood  the  epistles  better  much 
than  they  did  before,  and  had  not,  with  repeated 
instances,  pressed  me  to  publish  them,  I  should  not 
have  consented  they  should  have  gone  beyond  my 
own  private  use,  for  which  they  were  at  first  de- 
signed, and  where  they  made  mo  not  repent  my 
pains. 

If  any  one  be  so  far  pleased  with  my  endea- 
vors, as  to  think  it  worth  while  to  be  informed 
what  was  the  clue  I  guided  myself  by  through  all 
the  dark  passages  of  these  epistles,  I  shall  minutely 
tell  him  the  steps  by  which  I  was  brought  into  this 
way,  that  he  may  judge  whether  I  proceeded  ra- 
tionally, upon  right  grounds  or  no,  if  so  be,  any 
thing  in  so  mean  an  example  as  mine  may  be 
worth  his  notice. 

After  I  had  found,  by  long  experience,  that  the 
reading  of  the  text  and  comments  in  the  ordinary 
way,  proved  not  so  successful  as  I  wished  to  the 
end  proposed,  I  began  to  suspect  that  in  reading 
a  chapter,  as  was  usual,  and  thereupon  sometimes 
consulting  expositors  upon  some  hard  places  of  it, 
which  at  that  time  most  affected  me,  as  relating 
to  points  then  under  consideration  in  my  own 
mind,  or  in  debate  amongst  others,  was  not  a  right 
method  to  get  into  the  true  sense  of  these  epistles. 
I  saw  plainly,  after  I  began  once  to  reflect  on  it, 
that  if  any  one  now  should  write  me  a  letter,  as 
long  at  St.  Paul's  to  the  Romans,  concerning  such 
a  matter  as  that  is,  in  a  style  as  foreign,  and  ex- 
pressions as  dubious  as  his  seem  to  be,  if  I  should 
divide  it  into  fifteen  or  sixteen  chapters,  and  read 
of  them  one  to-day,  and  another  to-morrow,  &c.,  it 
was  ten  to  one  I  should  never  come  to  a  full  and 
clear  comprehension  of  it.  The  way  to  understand 
the  mind  of  him  that  wrote  it,  every  one  would 
agree,  was  to  read  the  whole  letter  through,  from 
one  end  to  the  other,  all  at  once,  to  see  what  was 
the  main  subject  and  tendency  of  it :  or  if  it  had 
several  views  and  purposes  in  it,  not  dependent 
one  of  another,  nor  in  a  subordination  to  one  chief 
aim  and  end,  to  discover  what  those  different  mat- 
ters were,  and  where  the  author  concluded  one 
and  began  another :  and  if  there  were  any  ne- 
cessity of  dividing  the  epistle  into  parts,  to  make 
the  boundaries  of  them. 

In  prosecution  of  this  thought,  I  concluded  it 
necessary,  for  the  understanding  of  any  one  of  St. 
Paul's  epistles,  to  read  it  all  through  at  one  sitting, 
and  to  observe,  as  well  as  I  could,  the  drift  and 
design  of  his  writing  it.  If  the  first  reading  gave 
me  some  light,  the  second  gave  me  more  ;  and  so 
I  persisted  on  reading,  constantly,  the  whole  epis- 
tie  over  at  once,  till  I  came  to  have  a  good  general 
view  of  the  apostle's  main  purpose  in  writmg  the 


80 


AN    ESSAY    ON    ST.    PAUL'S    EPISTLES, 


epistle,  the  chief  branches  of  his  discourse  wherein 
he  prosecuted  it,  the  arguments  he  used,  and  the 
disposition  of  the  whole. 

This,  I  confess,  is  not  to  be  obtained  by  one  or 
two  hasty  readings ;  it  must  be  repeated  again 
and  again,  with  a  close  attention  to  the  tenor  of 
the  fli.-course,  and  a  perfect  neglect  of  the  divi- 
sions into  chapters  and  verses.  On  the  contrary, 
the  safest  way  is  to  suppose  that  the  epistle  has 
but  one  business,  and  one  aim  ;  till,  by  a  frequent 
perusal  of  it,  you  are  forced  to  see  there  are  distinct 
independent  matters  in  it,  which  will  forwardly 
enough  show  themselves. 

It  requires  so  much  more  pains,  judgment,  and 
application  to  find  the  coherence  of  obscure  and 
abstruse  writings,  and  makes  them  so  much  the 
more  unfit  to  serve  prejudice  and  pre-occupation 
when  found,  that  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  St. 
Paul's  epistles  have,  with  many,  passed  rather  for 
disjointed,  loose,  pious  discourses,  full  of  warmth 
and  zeal  and  overflows  of  light,  rather  than  for 
calm,  strong,  coherent  reasonings,  that  carried  a 
thread  of  argument  and  consistency  all  through 
them. 

But  this  muttering  of  lazy  or  ill-disposed  read- 
ers, hindered  me  not  from  persisting  in  the  course 
I  had  begun  :  1  continued  to  read  the  same  epistle 
over  and  over,  and  over  again,  till  I  came  to  dis- 
cover, as  appeared  to   me,   what  was  the  drift 
and  aim  of  it ;  and  by  what  steps  and  arguments 
St.  Paul  prosecuted  his  purpose.     I  remembered 
that  St.  Paul  was  miraculously  called  to  the  minis- 
try of  the  gospel,  and  declared  to  be  a  chosen 
vessel ;  that  he  had  the  whole  doctrine  of  the  gos- 
pel from  God  by  immediate  revelation,  and  was 
appointed  to  be  the  apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  for  the 
propagating  of  it  in  the  heathen  world.     This  was 
enoiigli  to  persuade  me  that  he  was  not  a  man  of 
loose  and  shattered  parts,  incapable  to  argue,  and 
unfit  to  convince  those  he  had  to  deal  with.    God 
knows  how  to  choose  fit  instruments  for  the  busi- 
ness he  employs  them  in.     A  large  stock  of  Jew- 
ish learning  he  had  taken  in  at  the  feet  of  Ga- 
maliel ;  and  for  his  information  in  Christian  know- 
ledge, and  the  mysteries  and  depths  of  the  dis- 
pensation of  grace  by  Jesus  Christ,  God  himself 
had  condescended  to  be  his  instructor  and  teacher. 
The  light  of  the  gospel  he  had  received  from  the 
Fountain  and  Father  of  Light  himself,  who,  I  con- 
cluded, had  not  furnished  hitn,  in  this  extraordinary 
manner,  if  all  tliis  plentiful  stock  of  learning  and 
illumination  had  been  in  danger  to  have  been  lost, 
or  proved  useless,  in  a  jumbled  and  confused  head  ; 
nor  have  laid  up  such  a  store  of  admirable  and 
useful  knowledge  in  a  man  who,  for  want  of  method 
and  order,  clearnpss  of  conception,  or  pertinency 
in  discourse,  could  not  draw  it  out  into  use  with 
the  greatest  advantages  of  force  and  coherence. 
That  he  knew  how  to  prosecute  his  purpose  with 
strength  of  argument  and  close  reasoning,  without 
incoherent  sallies,  or  the  intermixing  of  things 
foreign  to  his  business,  was  evident  to  mc  from 
several  speeches  of  his  recorded  in  the  Acts  :  and 
it  was  hard  to  think  that  a  man  who  could  talk 
with  so  much  consistency  and  clearness  of  convic- 
tion, should  not  be  able  to  write  without  confusion, 
inextricable  obscurity,  and  perpetual  rambling. 
The  force,  order,  and  perspicuity  of  those  dis- 
courses could  not  be  denied  to  be  very  visible. 


How  then  came  it  that  the  like  was  thought  much 
wanting  in  his  epistles  1  and  of  this  there  appear- 
ed to  me  this  plain  reason  :  the  particularities  of 
the  history  in  which  these  speeches  are  inserted, 
show  St.  Paul's  end  in  speaking;  which  being 
seen,  casts  a  light  on  the  whole,  and  shows  the 
pertinency  of  all  that  he  says.  But  his  epistles  not 
being  so  circumstantiated,  there  being  no  concur- 
ring history  that  plainly  declares  the  disposition 
St.  Paul  was  in,  what  the  actions,  expectations,  or 
demands  of  those  to  whom  he  wrote  required  him 
to  speak  to,  we  are  nowhere  told.  All  this,  and  a 
great  deal  more,  necessary  to  guide  us  into  the 
true  meaning  of  the  epistles,  is  to  be  had  only  from 
the  epistles  themselves,  and  to  be  gathered  from 
thence  with  stubborn  attention,  and  more  than 
common  application. 

This  being  the  only  safe  guide  (imder  the  Spirit 
of  God,  that  dictated  these  sacred  writings)  that 
can  be  relied  on,  I  hope  I  may  be  excused,  if  I  ven- 
ture to  say,  that  the  utmost  ought  to  be  done  to 
observe  and  trace  out  St.  Paul's  reasonings ;  to 
follow  the  thread  of  his  discourse  in  each  of  his 
epistles  ;  to  show  how  it  goes  on  still  directed  with 
the  same  view,  and  pertinently  drawing  the  several 
incidents  towards  the  same  point.  To  understand 
him  right,  his  inferences  should  be  strictly  observ- 
ed, and  it  should  be  carefully  examined  from  what 
they  are  drawn,  and  what  they  tend  to.  He  is 
certainly  a  coherent,  argumentative,  pertinent 
writer ;  and  care,  I  think,  sliould  be  taken,  in  ex- 
pounding of  him,  to  show  that  he  is  so.  But  though 
I  say  he  has  weighty  aims  in  his  epistles,  which 
he  steadily  keeps  in  his  eye,  and  drives  at  it  in  all 
that  he  says ;  yet  I  do  not  say  that  he  puts  his 
discourses  into  an  artificial  method,  or  leads  his 
reader  into  a  distinction  of  his  arguments,  or  gives 
thenr  notice  of  new  matter  by  rhetorical  or  studied 
transitions.  He  has  no  ornaments  borrowed  from 
the  Greek  eloquence  ;  no  notions  of  their  philoso- 
phy mixed  with  his  doctrine  to  set  it  off.  '  The 
enticing  words  of  man's  wisdom,'  wliereby  he 
means  all  the  studied  rules  of  the  Grecian  schools, 
which  made  them  such  masters  in  the  art  of  speak- 
ing, he,  as  lie  says  himself,  1  Cor.  2.  iv.,  wholly 
neglected.  The  reason  whereof  he  gives  in  the 
next  verse,  and  in  other  places  ;  but  the  politeness 
of  language,  delicacy  of  style,  fineness  of  expres- 
sion, labored  periods,  artificial  transitions,  and  a  very 
methodical  ranging  of  the  parts  with  such  other 
embellishments  as  make  a  discourse  enter  the 
mind  smoothly,  and  strike  the  fancy  at  first  hear- 
ing, have  little  or  no  place  in  his  style ;  yet  co- 
herence of  discourse,  and  a  direct  tendency  of  all 
the  parts  of  it  to  the  argument  in  hand,  are  most 
eminently  to  be  found  in  him.  This  I  take  to  be 
his  character,  and  doubt  not  but  he  will  be  found 
to  be  so  upon  dihgent  examination.  And  in  this, 
if  it  be  so,  we  have  a  clue,  if  we  will  take  the  pains 
to  find  it,  that  will  conduct  ns  with  surety  through 
those  seemingly  dark  places  and  imagined  intri- 
cacies, in  which  Christians  have  wandered  so  far 
one  from  another  as  to  find  quite  contrary  senses. 
Whether  a  superficial  reading,  accompanied 
with  the  common  opinion  of  his  invincible  obscuri- 
ty, has  kept  off  some  from  seeking  in  him  the  co- 
herence  of  a  discourse,  tending,  with  close,,  strong 
reasoning,  to  a  point ;  or  a  seemingly  more  honor- 
able opinion  of  one  that  had  been  rapt  up  into  the 


AN    ESSAY    ON    ST.    PAUL'S    EPISTLES. 


81 


third  heaven,  as  if  from  a  man  so  warmed  and  illu- 
minated as  he  had  been,  nothing  could  be  expect- 
ed but  flashes  of  light,  and  raptures  of  zeal,  hin- 
dered others  to  look  for  a  train  of  reasoning,  pro- 
ceeding on  regular  and  cogent  argumentation, 
from  a  man  raised  above  the  ordinary  pitcli  of  liu- 
manity  to  a  higher  and  brighter  way  of  illumina- 
tion ;  or  else  whether  others  were  loath  to  beat 
their  heads  about  the  tenor  and  coherence  in  St. 
Paul's  discourses,  which,  if  found  out,  possibly 
might  set  him  at  a  manifest  and  irreconcilable  dif- 
ference with  their  systems  ;  it  is  certain  that  what- 
ever hath  been  the  cause,  this  way  of  getting  the 
true  sense  of  St.  Paul's  epistles  seems  not  to  have 
been  much  made  use  of,  or  at  least  so  thoroughly 
pursued  as  I  am  apt  to  think  it  deserves. 

For,  granting  that  he  was  full-stored  with  the 
knowledge  of  the  things  he  treated  of,  for  he  had 
light  from  heaven,  it  was  God  himself  furnished 
him,  and  he  could  not  want :  allowing  also  that  he 
had  ability  to  make  use  of  the  knowledge  given 
him,. for  the  end  for  which  it  was  given  him,  viz., 
the  information,  conviction,  and  conversion  of 
others  ;  and  accordingly  that  he  knew  how  to  di- 
rect his  discourse  to  the  point  in  hand,  we  cannot 
widely  mistake  the  parts  of  his  discourse  employed 
about  it,  when  we  have  any  where  found  out  the 
point  he  drives  at :  wherever  we  have  got  a  view 
of  his  design,  and  the  aim  he  proposed  to  himself 
in  writing,  we  may  be  sure  that  such  or  such  an 
interpretation  does  not  give  us  his  genuine  sense,  it 
being  notliing  at  all  to  liis  present  purpose.  Nay, 
among  various  meanings  given  a  text,  it  fails  not 
to  direct  us  to  the  best,  and  very  often  to  assure 
us  of  the  true.  For  it  is  no  presumption,  when 
one  sees  a  man  arguing  for  this  or  that  proposition, 
if  he  be  a  sober  man,  master  of  reason  or  common 
sense,  and  takes  any  care  of  what  he  says,  to  pro- 
nounce with  confidence,  in  several  cases,  that  he 
could  not  talk  thus  or  thus. 

I  do  not  yet  so  magnify  this  method  of  studying 
St.  Paul's  epistles,  as  well  as  other  parts  of  sacred 
Scripture,  as  to  thhik  it  will  perfectly  clear  every 
hard  place,  and  leave  no  doubt  unresolved.  I  know 
expressions  now  out  of  use,  opinions  of  those  times 
not  heard  of  in  our  days,  allusions  to  customs  lost 
to  us,  and  various  circumstances  and  particulari- 
ties of  the  parties,  which  we  cannot  come  at,  &c., 
must  needs  continue  several  passages  in  the  dark, 
now  to  us  at  this  distance,  which  shone  with  full 
light  to  those  they  were  directed  to.  But  for  ail 
that,  the  studying  of  St.  Paul's  epistles  in  the  way 
I  have  proposed,  will,  I  humbly  conceive,  carry  us 
a  great  length  in  the  right  understanding  of  them, 
and  make  us  rejoice  in  the  light  we  receive  from 
those  most  useful  parts  of  divine  revelation,  by  fur- 
nishing us  with  visible  grounds  that  we  are  not 
mistaken,  whilst  the  consistency  of  the  discourse 
and  the  pertinency  of  it  to  the  design  he  is  upon, 
vouches  it  worthy  of  our  great  apostle.  At  least 
I  hope  it  may  be  my  excuse  for  having  endeavor- 
ed to  make  St.  Paul  an  interpreter  to  me  of  his 
own  epistles. 

To  this  may  be  added  another  help,  which  St. 
Paul  himself  affords  us,  towards  the  attaining  the 
true  meaning  contained  in  his  epistles.  He  that 
reads  him  with  the  attention  I  propose,  will  easily 
observe,  that  as  he  was  full  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
gospel,  so  it  lay  all  clear  and  in  order  open  to  his 


view.  When  he  gave  his  thoughts  utterance  upon 
any  pomt,  the  matter  flowed  like  a  torrent,  but  it 
IS  plam,  It  was  a  matter  he  was  perfectly  master 
of:  he  fully  possessed  the  entire  revelation  he  had 
received  from  God,  had  thoroughly  digested  it,  all 
the  parts  were  formed  together  in  his  mind  into 
one  weU-contracted  harmonious  body  :  so  that  he 
was  no  way  at  an  uncertaintv,  nor  ever  b  the 
least  at  a  loss  concerning  any  branch  of  it.  One 
may  see  his  thoughts  were  all  of  a  piece  in  all  his 
epistles  ;  his  notions  were  at  all  times  uniform,  and 
constantly  the  same,  though  his  expressions  very 
various.  In  them  he  seems  to  take  great  liberty. 
This  at  least  is  certain,  that  no  one  seems  less  tied 
up  to  a  form  of  words.  If  then,  having  by  the 
method  before  proposed  got  into  the  sense  of  the 
several  epistles,  we  will  but  compare  what  he  says 
in  the  places  where  he  treats  of  the  same  subject, 
we  can  hardly  be  mistaken  in  his  sense,  nor  doubt 
what  it  was  that  he  believed  and  taught  concern- 
ing  those  points  of  the  Christian  religion.  I  know 
it  is  not  unusual  to  find  a  multitude  of  texts  heaped 
up  for  the  maintaining  of  an  espoused  proposition, 
but  in  a  sense  often  so  remote  from  their  true 
meaning,  that  one  can  hardly  avoid  thinking  that 
those  who  so  used  them  either  sought  not  or 
valued  not  the  sense  ;  and  were  satisfied  with  the 
sound,  where  they  could  but  get  that  to  favor 
them.  But  a  verbal  concordance  leads  not  always 
to  texts  of  the  same  meaning  :  trusting  too  much 
thereto,  will  furnish  us  but  with  slight  proofs  in 
many  cases  ;  and  any  one  may  observe  how  apt 
that  is  to  jumble  together  passages  of  Scripture 
not  relating  to  the  same  matter,  and  thereby  to 
disturb  and  unsettle  the  true  meaning  of  Holy 
Scripture.  I  have  therefore  said  that  we  should 
compare  together  places  of  Scripture  treating  of 
the  same  point.  Thus,  indeed,  one  part  of  the 
sacred  text  could  not  fad  to  give  liffht  unto  an- 
other. And  since  the  providence  of  God  hiitli  so 
ordered  it,  that  St.  Paid  has  written  a  great  num- 
ber of  epistles,  which  though  upon  different  occa- 
sions, and  to  several  purposes,  yet  are  all  confined 
within  the  business  of  his  apostleship,  and  so  con- 
tain nothing  but  points  of  Christian  instruction, 
amongst  which  he  seldom  fails  to  drop  in,  and 
often  to  enlarge  on  the  great  and  distinguishing 
doctrines  of  our  holy  rehgion  ;  which,  if  quitting 
our  own  infallability  in  that  analogy  of  faith  which 
we  have  made  to  ourselves,  or  have  implicitly 
adopted  from  some  other,  we  would  carefully  lay 
together,  and  diligently  compare  and  study,  I  am 
apt  to  think  would  give  us  St.  Paul's  system  in  a 
clear  and  indisputable  sense  ;  which  every  one 
must  acknowledge  to  be  a  better  standard  to  inter- 
pret his  meaning  by,  in  any  obscure  and  doubtful 
parts  of  his  epistles,  if  any  such  should  still  re- 
main, than  the  system,  confession,  or  articles  of 
any  church  or  society  of  Christians  yet  known, 
which,  however  pretended  to  be  founded  on  Scrip, 
ture,  are  visibly  the  contrivances  of  men,  (fallible 
both  in  their  opinions  and  interpretations,)  and,  as 
is  visible  in  most  of  them,  made  with  partial  views, 
and  adapted  to  what  the  occasions  of  that  time, 
and  the  present  circumstances  they  were  tlien  in, 
were  thought  to  require,  for  the  support  or  justifi- 
cation of  themselves.  Their  philosophy  also  has 
its  part  in  misleading  men  from  the  true  sense  of 
the  sacred  Scripture.    He  that  shall  attentively 


AN    ESSAY    ON    ST.    PAUL'S    EPISTLES. 


read  the  Christian  writers  after  the  ages  of  the 
apostles,  will  easily  find  how  much  the  philosophy 
they  were  tinctured  with  influenced  them  in  their 
undWstanding  of  the  books  of  the  Old  and  New 
Testament.  In  the  ages  wherein  Platonism  pre- 
vailed, the  converts  to  Christianity  of  that  school, 
on  all  occasions,  interpreted  Holy  Writ  according 
to  the  notions  they  had  imbibed  from  that  philo- 
sophy. Aristotle's  doctrine  had  the  same  effect  in 
its  turn,  and  when  it  degenerated  into  the  Peripa- 
teticism  of  the  schools,  that  too  brought  its  notions 
and  distinctions  into  divinity,  and  affixed  them  to 
the  terms  of  the  sacred  Scripture.  And  we  may 
see  still  how  at  this  day  every  one's  philosophy 
regulates  every  one's  interpretation  of  the  word  of 
God.  Those  who  are  possessed  with  the  doctrine 
of  aerial  and  aetherial  vehicles,  have  thence  bor- 
rowed an  interpretation  of  the  four  first  verses  of 
2  Cor.  v.,  without  having  any  ground  to  think  that 
St.  Paul  had  the  least  notion  of  any  such  vehicles. 
It  is  plain  that  the  teaching  of  men  philosophy 
was  no  part  of  the  design  of  divine  revelation ;  but 
that  the  expressions  of  Scripture  are  commonly 
suited  in  those  matters  to  the  vulgar  apprehen- 
sions and  conceptions  of  the  place  and  people  where 
they  were  dehvered.  And  as  to  the  doctrine 
therein  directly  taught  by  the  apostles,  that  tends 
wholly  to  the  setting  up  the  kingdom  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  this  world,  and  the  salvation  of  men's 
souls  ;  and  in  this  it  is  plain  their  expressions  were 
conformed  to  the  ideas  and  notions  which  they 
had  received  from  revelation,  or  were  consequent 
from  it.  We  shall  therefore  in  vain  go  about  to 
interpret  their  words  by  the  notions  of  our  philo- 
sophy, and  the  doctrines  of  men  delivered  in  our 
schools.  This  is  to  explain  the  apostles'  meaning 
by  what  they  never  thought  of  whilst  they  were 
writing  ;  which  is  not  the  way  to  find  their  sense 
in  what  they  dehvered,  but  our  own,  and  to  take 
up  from  their  writings  not  what  they  left  there  for 
us,  but  what  ve  bring  along  with  us  in  ourselves. 
He  that  would  understand  St.  Paul  right,  must 
understand  his  terms  in  the  sense  he  uses  them, 
and  not  as  they  are  appropriated  by  each  man's 
particular  philosophy,  to  conceptions  that  never 
entered  the  mind  of  the  apostle.  For  example,  he 
that  shall  bring  the  philosophy  now  taught  and 
received  to  the  explaining  of  spirit,  soul,  and  body, 
mentioned  1  Thess.  v.  23,  wO],  I  fear,  hardly 
reach  St.  Paul's  sense,  or  represent  to  himself  the 
notions  St.  Paul  then  had  in  his  mind.  That  is 
what  we  should  aim  at  in  reading  him,  or  any 
other  author  ;  and  until  we  from  his  words  paint 
his  very  ideas  and  thoughts  in  our  minds,  we  do 
not  understand  him. 

In  the  divisions  I  have  made,  I  have  endeavored 
the  best  I  could  to  govern  myself  by  the  diversity 
of  matter.  But  in  a  writer  like  St.  Paul,  it  is  not 
so  easy  always  to  find  precisely  where  one  subject 
ends  and  another  begins.  He  is  full  of  the  matter, 
he  treats  and  writes  with  warmth,  which  usually 
neglects  method,  and  those  partitions  and  pauses, 
which  men,  educated  in  the  schools  of  rhetori- 
cians usually  observe.  Those  arts  of  writing  St. 
Paul,  as  well  out  of  design  as  temper,  wholly 
laid  by:  the  subject  he  had  in  hand,  and  the 


grounds  upon  which  it  stood  firm,  and  by  which 
he  enforced  it,  was  what  alone  he  minded ;  and 
without  solemnly  winding  up  one  argument,  and 
intimating  any  way  that  he  began  another,  let  his 
thoughts,  which  were  fully  possessed  of  the  mat- 
ter, run  in  one  continued  train,  wherein  the  parts 
of  his  discourse  were  wove  one  into  another.  So 
that  it  is  seldom  that  the  scheme  of  his  discourse 
makes  any  gap ;  and,  therefore,  withc.ut  breaking 
in  upon  the  connection  of  his  language,  it  is  hard- 
ly possible  to  separate  his  discourse,  and  give  a 
distinct  view  of  his  several  arguments  in  distinct 
sections. 

I  am  far  from  pretending  infallibility  in  the 
sense  I  have  any  where  given  in  my  Paraphrase  or 
Notes ;  that  would  be  to  erect  myself  into  an  apos- 
tle, a  presumption  of  the  highest  natiu-e  in  any 
one  that  cannot  confirm  what  he  says  by  miraclas. 
I  have,  for  my  own  information,  sought  the  true 
meaning  as  far  as  my  poor  abilities  would  reach  : 
and  I  have  unbiassedly  embraced  what,  upon  a 
fair  inquiry,  appeared  so  to  me.  This  I  thought 
my  duty  and  interest  in  a  matter  of  so  great  con- 
cernment to  me.  If  I  must  believe  for  myself,  it 
is  unavoidable  that  I  must  understand  for  my- 
self. For  if  I  blindly  and  with  an  implicit  faith, 
take  the  pope's  interpretation  of  the  sacred  Scrip- 
ture, without  examining  whether  it  be  Christ's 
meaning,  it  is  the  pope  I  believe  in,  and  not  in 
Christ ;  it  is  his  authority  I  rest  upon  ;  it  is  what 
he  says  I  embrace :  for  what  it  is  Christ  says  I 
neither  know  nor  concern  myself.  It  is  the  same 
thing  when  I  set  up  any  other  man  in  Christ's 
place,  and  make  him  tlie  authentic  interpreter  of 
sacred  Scripture  to  myself.  He  may  possibly 
understand  the  sacred  Scripture  as  right  as  any 
man ;  but  I  shall  do  well  to  examine  myseli 
whether  that  which  I  do  not  know,  nay  (which  in 
the  way  I  take)  I  can  never  know,  can  justify  me 
in  making  myself  his  disciple,  instead  of  Jesus 
Christ's,  who  of  right  is  alone  and  ought  to  be  my 
only  Lord  and  master,  and  it  wOl  be  no  less  sa- 
crilege in  me  to  substitute  to  myself  any  other  in 
liis  room,  to  be  a  prophet  to  me,  than  to  be  my 
king  or  priest. 

The  same  reasons  that  put  me  upon  doing  what 
I  have  in  these  papers  done,  will  exempt  me  from 
all  suspicion  of  imposing  my  interpretation  on 
others.  The  reasons  that  led  me  into  the  mean- 
ing which  prevailed  on  my  mind,  are  set  down 
with  it :  as  far  as  they  carry  light  and  conviction 
to  any  other  man's  understanding,  so  far  I  hope 
my  labors  may  be  of  some  use  to  him ;  beyond 
the  evidence  it  carries  with  it,  I  advise  him  not  to 
follow  mine,  nor  any  man's  interpretation.  We 
are  all  men,  hable  to  errors,  and  infected  with 
them ;  but  have  this  sure  way  to  preserve  our- 
selves every  one  from  danger  by  tliem,  if,  laying 
aside  sloth,  carelessness,  prejudice,  party,  and  a 
reverence  of  men,  we  betake  ourselves  in  earnest 
to  the  study  of  the  way  to  salvation,  in  those 
holy  writings  wherein  God  has  revealed  it  from 
heaven,  and  proposed  it  to  the  world,  seeking  our 
religion  where  we  are  sure  it  is  in  truth  to  be 
found,  comparing  spiritual  things  with  spiritual 
things. 


A  DISCOURSE  ON  MIRACLES. 


This  tractate  may  properly  be  regai-ded  as  the  de- 
velopment of  the  view  taken  of  the  subject  of 
miracles,  in  the  Essay  on  the  Human  Under- 
standing. And  tkough  neither  very  elaborate  nor 
extensive,  it  will  always,  for  the  religious  in- 
quirer, possess  considerable  interest ;  partly  for 
its  intrinsic  merits,  partly  because  it  contains  the 
ripest  thoughts  of  one  of  the  greatest  lights  in 
philosophy  that  the  world  has  to  boast  of.  The 
passage  of  the  Essay  in  which  he  had  already,  in 
the  earlier  part  of  his  life,  glanced  at  the  subject, 
is  as  follows: — "  Though  the  common  experience, 
and  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  have  justly  a 
mighty  influence  on  the  minds  of  men,  to  make 
them  give  or  refuse  credit  to  any  thing  proposed 
to  their  belief;  yet  there  is  one  case,  wherein  the 
strangeness  of  the  fact  lessens  not  the  assent  to  a 
fair  testimony  given  of  it.  For  where  such  su- 
pernatural events  are  suitable  to  ends  aimed  at 
by  Him,  who  has  the  power  to  change  the  course 
of  nature,  there,  under  such  circumstances,  they 
may  be  the  fitter  to  procure  belief,  by  how  much 
the  more  they  are  beyond  or  contrary  to  ordinary 
observation.  This  is  the  proper  case  of  miracles, 
which,  well  attested,  do  not  only  find  credit  them- 
selves, but  give  it  also  to  other  truths,  which  need 
such  confirmation."  Book  iv.  Chap.  16,  §  13. — 
Ed. 


To  discourse  of  miracles  without  defining  what 
one  means  by  the  word  miracle,  is  to  make  a 
show,  but  in  effect  to  talk  of  nothing. 

A  miracle,  then,  I  take  to  be  a  sensible  opera- 
tion, which,  being  above  the  comprehension  of  the 
spectator,  and  in  his  opinion  contrary  to  the  esta- 
blished course  of  nature,  is  taken  by  him  to  be  di- 
vine. 

He  that  is  present  at  the  fact,  is  "a  spectator : 
he  that  beheves  the  history  of  the  fact,  puts  him- 
self in  the  place  of  a  spectator. 

This  definition,  it  is  probable,  will  not  escape 
these  two  exceptions  : — 

1.  That  hereby  what  is  a  miracle  is  made  very 
uncertain  :  for  it  depending  on  the  opinion  of  the 
spectator,  that  wiU  be  a  miracle  to  one  which  will 
not  be  so  to  another. 

In  answer  to  which,  it  is  enough  to  say,  that 
this  objection  is  of  no  force,  but  in  the  mouth  of 
one  who  can  produce  a  definition  of  a  miracle  not 
liable  to  the  same  exception,  which  I  think  not 
easy  to  do ;  for  it  being  agreed,  that  a  miracle 
must  be  that  which  surpasses  the  force  of  nature 
in  the  established,  steady  laws  of  causes  and  ef- 
fects, nothing  can  be  taken  to  be  a  miracle  but  what 
is  judged  to  exceed  those  laws.  Now  every  one 
being  able  to  judge  of  those  laws  only  by  his  own 
acquaintance  with  nature,  and  notions  of  its  force, 


(which  are  different  in  different  men,)  it  is  mia- 
voidable  that  that  should  be  a  miracle  to  one, 
which  is  not  so  to  another. 

2.  Another  objection  to  this  definition  will  be, 
that  the  notion  of  a  miracle  thus  enlarged,  may 
come  sometimes  to  take  in  operations  That  have 
nothing  extraordinary  or  supernatural  in  them, 
and  thereby  invahdate  the  use  of  miracles  for  the 
attesting  of  divine  revelation. 

To  which  I  answer,  not  at  all,  if  the  testimony 
which  divine  revelation  receives  from  miracles  be 
rightly  considered. 

To  know  that  any  revelation  is  from  God,  it  is 
necessary  to  know  that  the  messenger  that  de- 
livers it  is  sent  from  God  ;  and  that  cannot  be 
known  but  by  some  credentials  given  him  by  God 
himself.  Let  us  see  then  whether  miracles,  in  my 
sense,  be  not  such  credentials,  and  will  not  infalli- 
bly direct  us  right  in  the  search  of  divine  revela . 
lion. 

It  is  to  be  considered,  that  divine  revelation  re- 
ceives testimony  from  no  other  miracles,  but  such 
as  are  wrought  to  witness  his  mission  from  God, 
who  delivers  the  revelation.  All  other  miracles 
that  are  done  in  the  world,  how  many  or  great 
soever,  revelation  is  not  concerned  in.  Cases 
wherein  there  has  been,  or  can  be  need  of  mira- 
cles for  the  confirmation  of  revelation,  are  fewer 
than  perhaps  is  imagined.  The  heathen  world, 
amidst  an  infinite  and  uncertain  jumble  of  deities, 
fables,  and  worships,  had  no  room  for  a  divine  at- 
testation of  any  one  against  the  rest.  Those 
owners  of  many  gods  were  at  liberty  in  tiieir  wor- 
ship ;  and  no  one  of  their  divinities  pretending  to 
be  the  one  only  true  God,  no  one  of  them  could 
be  supposed,  in  the  Pagan  sclieme,  to  make  use  of 
miracles  to  establish  his  worslup  alone,  or  to 
abohsh  that  of  the  other ;  much  less  was  there 
any  use  of  miracles  to  confirm  any  articles  of 
faith,  since  no  one  of  them  had  any  such  to  pro- 
pose as  necessary  to  be  beheved  by  their  votaries ; 
and,  therefore,  I  do  not  remember  any  miracles 
recorded  in  the  Greek  or  Roman  writers,  as  done 
to  confirm  any  one's  mission  and  doctrme.  Con- 
formable herunto  we  find  St.  Paul,  1  Cor.  i.  22, 
takes  notice  that  the  .Tews  (it  is  true)  required 
miracles,  but  as  for  the  Greeks  they  looked  after 
something  else  ;  they  knew  no  need  or  use  there 
was  of  miracles  to  recommend  any  religion  to 
them.  And  indeed  it  is  an  astonishing  mark  how 
far  the  god  of  this  world  had  blinded  men's  minds, 
if  we  consider  that  the  Gentile  world  received 
and  stuck  to  a  religion,  wliich,  not  being  derived 
from  reason,  had  no  sure  foundation  in  revelation. 
They  Icnevv  not  its  original,  nor  the  authors  of  it, 
nor  seemed  concerned  to  know  ft-om  whence  it 
came,  or  by  wliose  authority  delivered ;  and  so 
had  no  mention  or  us(»  of  miracles  for  its  confirma- 
tion. For  though  there  were  here  and  there  some 
pretences  to  revelation,  yet  there  were  not  so 
much  as  pretences  to  miracles  that  attested  it. 
83 


64 


A    DISCOURSE    ON    MIRACLES, 


If  we  will  direct  our  thoughts  by  what  has  been, 
we  must  conclude  that  miracles,  as  the  creden- 
tials of  a  messenger  delivering  a  divine  religion, 
have  no  place  but  upon  a  supposition  of  one  only 
true  God :  and  that  it  is  so  in  the  nature  of  the 
tiling,  and  cannot  be  otherwise,  I  think  will  be 
mad'e  appear  in  the  sequel  of  this  discourse.  Of 
such  wlio  have  come  in  the  name  of  the  one  only 
true  God,  professing  to  bring  a  law  from  him,  we 
have  in  history  a  clear  account  but  of  three,  viz., 
Moses,  Jesus,  and  Mahomet.  For  what  the  Per- 
sees  say  of  their  Zoroaster,  or  the  Indians  of 
their  Brama,  (not  to  mention  all  the  wild  stones 
of  the  religions  further  east,)  is  so  obscure,  or  so 
manifestly  fabulous,  that  no  account  can  be  made 
of  it.  Now  of  the  three  before  mentioned,  Ma- 
homet having  none  to  produce,  pretends  to  no 
miracles  for  the  vouching  his  mission  :  so  that  the 
only  revelations  that  come  attested  by  miracles, 
being  only  those  of  Moses  and  Christ,  and  they 
confirming  each  other,  the  business  of  miracles,  as 
it  stands  really  in  matter  of  fact,  has  no  manner 
of  difficulty  in  it ;  and  I  think  the  most  scrupulous 
or  sceptical  cannot  from  miracles  raise  the  least 
doubt  against  the  divine  revelation  of  the  gospel. 

But  since  the  speculative  and  learned  will  be 
putting  of  cases  which  never  were,  and  it  may  be 
presumed  never  will  be  ;  since  scholars  and  dispu- 
tants will  be  raising  of  questions  where  there  are 
none,  and  enter  upon  debates  whereof  there  is  no 
need  ;  I  crave  leave  to  say,  that  he  who  comes 
with  a  message  from  God  to  be  delivered  to  the 
world,  cannot  be  refused  belief,  if  he  vouches  his 
mission  by  a  miracle,  because  his  credentials  have 
a  rigl)t  to  it.  For  every  rational  thinking  man 
must  conclude  as  Nicodemus  did :  "  We  know 
that  thou  art  a  teacher  come  from  God,  for  no 
man  can  do  these  signs  which  thou  dost,  except 
God  be  with  him." 

For  example,  Jesus  of  Nazareth  professes  him- 
self sent  from  God  :  he  with  a  word  calms  a  tem- 
pest at  sea  :  this  one  looks  on  as  a  miracle,  and 
consequently  cannot  but  receive  his  doctrine : 
another  thinks  this  might  be  the  effect  of  chance, 
or  skill  in  the  weatlier,  and  no  miracle,  and  so 
stands  out ;  but  afterwards  seeing  hira  walk  on 
the  sea,  owns  that  for  a  miracle,  and  believes  : 
which  yet  upon  another  has  not  that  force,  who 
suspects  it  may  possibly  be  done  by  the  assistance 
of  a  spirit ;  but  yet  the  same  person,  seeing  after- 
wards our  Saviour  cure  an  inveterate  palsy  by  a 
word,  admits  that  for  a  miracle,  and  becomes  a 
convert.  Another  overlooking  it  in  this  instance, 
afterwards  finds  a  miracle  in  his  giving  sight  to 
one  born  bhnd,  or  in  raising  the  dead,  or  his  raising 
himself  from  the  dead,  and  so  receives  his  doc- 
trine as  a  revelation  coming  from  God.  By  all 
which  it  is  plain,  that  where  the  miracle  is  ad- 
mitted, the  doctrine  cannot  be  rejected  ;  it  comes 
with  the  assurance  of  a  divine  attestation  to  him 
that  allows  the  miracle,  and  he  cannot  question  its 
truth. 

The  next  thing  then  is,  what  shall  be  a  suffi- 
cient inducement  to  take  any  extraordinary  oper- 
ation to  be  a  miracle,  i.  e.  wrought  by  God  him- 
self for  the  attestation  of  a  revelation  from  him. 

And  to  this  I  answer,  the  carrying  with  it  the 
marks  of  a  greater  jiower  than  appears  in  opposi- 
tion to  it.     For, 


First,  This  removes  the  main  difficulty  where 
it  presses  hardest,  and  clears  the  matter  from 
doubt,  when  extraordinary  and  supernatural  oper- 
ations are  brought  to  support  opposite  missions, 
about  which  methinks  more  dust  has  been  raised 
by  men  of  leisure  than  so  plain  a  matter  needed. 
For  since  God's  power  is  paramount  to  all,  and  no 
opposition  can  be  made  against  him  with  an  equal 
force  to  his  ;  and  since  his  honor  and  goodness 
can  never  be  supposed  to  suffer  his  messenger  and 
his  truth  to  be  borne  down  by  the  appearance  of  a 
greater  power  on  the  side  of  an  impostor,  and  in 
favor  of  a  lie ;  whenever  there  is  an  opposition, 
and  two  pretending  to  be  sent  from  heaven  clash, 
the  signs  which  carry  with  them  the  evident  marks 
of  a  greater  power,  will  always  be  a  certain  and 
unquestionable  evidence,  that  the  truth  and  divine 
mission  are  on  that  side  on  which  they  appear. 
For,  though  the  discovery,  how  the  lying  wonders 
are  or  can  be  produced,  be  beyond  the  capacity  of 
the  ignorant,  and  often  beyond  the  conception  of 
the  most  knowing  spectator,  who  is  therefore  forced 
to  allow  them,  in  his  apprehension,  to  be  above  the 
force  of  natural  causes  and  effects  ;  yet  lie  cannot 
but  know  they  are  not  seals  set  by  God  to  his  truth 
for  the  attesting  of  it,  since  they  are  opposed  by 
miracles  that  carry  the  evident  marks  of  a  greater 
and  superior  power,  and  therefore  they  cannot  at 
all  shake  the  authority  of  one  so  supported.  God 
can  never  be  thought  to  suffer  that  a  lie,  set  up  in 
opposition  to  a  truth  coming  from  him,  should  be 
backed  with  a  greater  power  than  he  will  show 
for  the  confirmation  and  propagation  of  a  doctrine 
which  he  has  revealed,  to  the  end  it  might  be  be- 
lieved. The  producing  of  serpents,  blood,  and 
frogs,  by  the  Egyptian  sorcerers  and  by  Moses, 
could  not,  to  the  spectators,  but  appear  equally 
miraculous  ;  which  of  the  pretenders  then  had 
their  mission  from  God,  and  the  truth,  on  their 
side,  could  not  have  been  determined  if  the  mat- 
ter had  rested  there.  But  when  Moses's  serpent 
eat  up  theirs,  when  he  produced  lice  which  they 
could  not,  the  decision  was  easy.  It  was  plain 
Jannes  and  Jambres  acted  by  an  inferior  power  ; 
and  their  operations,  how  marvellous  and  extraor- 
dinary soever,  could  not  in  the  least  bring  in  ques- 
tion Moses's  mission  ;  that  stood  the  firmer  for 
this  opposition,  and  remained  the  more  unquestion- 
able after  this,  than  if  no  such  signs  had  been 
brought  against  it. 

So  likewise  the  number,  variety,  and  greatness 
of  the  miracles,  wrought  for  the  confirmation  of 
the  doctrine  delivered  by  Jesus  Christ,  carry  with 
them  such  strong  marks  of  an  extraordinary  divine 
power,  that  the  truth  of  his  mission  will  stand  firm 
and  unquestionable,  till  any  one  rising  up  in  oppo- 
sition to  him  shall  do  greater  miracles  than  he  and 
his  apostles  did.  For  any  thing  less  will  not  be 
of  weiglit  to  turn  the  scales  in  the  opinion  of  any 
one,  whether  of  an  inferior  or  more  exalted  under- 
standing. This  is  one  of  those  palpable  truths 
and  trials,  of  which  all  mankind  are  judges  ;  and 
there  needs  no  assistance  of  learning,  no  deep 
thought,  to  come  to  a  certainty  in  it.  Such  care 
has  God  taken  that  no  pretended  revelation  should 
stand  in  competition  with  what  is  truly  divine, 
that  we  need  but  open  our  eyes  to  see  and  be  sure 
which  came  from  liim.  The  marks  of  his  over- 
ruling power  accompany  it ;  and  therefore  to  this 


A    DISCOURSE    ON    MIRACLES. 


85 


■day  we  find,  that  wherever  the  gospel  comes,  it 
prevails,  to  the  beating  down  the  strong  holds  of 
Satan,  and  the  dislodging  the  prince  of  the  power 
of  darkness,  driving  him  away  with  all  liis  living 
wonders  ;  which  is  a  standing  miracle,  carrying 
with  it  the  testimony  of  superiority. 

What  is  the  uttermost  power  of  natural  agents 
or  created  beings,  men  of  the  greatest  reach  can- 
not discover  ;  but  that  it  is  not  equal  to  God's  om- 
nipotency  is  obvious  to  every  one's  understand- 
ing ;  so  that  the  superior  power  is  an  easy,  as 
well  as  sure  guide  to  revelation,  attested  by  mira- 
cles,  where  they  are  brought  as  credentials  to  an 
embassy  from  God. 

And  thus,  upon  the  same  grounds  of  supe- 
riority of  power,  uncontested  revelation  will  stand 
too. 

For  the  explaining  of  which,  it  may  be  neces- 
sary to  premise, 

1.  That  no  mission  can  be  looked  on  to  be  di- 
vine, that  delivers  any  thing  derogating  from  the 
honor  of  the  one,  only  true,  invisible  God,  or  in- 
consistent with  natural  religion  and  the  rules  of 
morality  ;  because  God  having  discovered  to  men 
the  unity  and  majesty  of  his  eternal  Godhead,  and 
the  truths  of  natural  religion  and  morality,  by  the 
light  of  reason,  he  cannot  be  supposed  to  back  the 
contrary  by  revelation  :  for  that  would  be  to  de- 
stroy the  evidence  and  the  use  of  reason,  without 
which  men  cannot  be  able  to  distinguish  divine 
revelation  from  diabolical  imposture. 

2.  That  it  cannot  be  expected  that  God  should 
send  any  one  into  the  world  on  purpose  to  inform 
men  of  things  indifferent,  and  of  small  moment,  or 
that  are  knowable  by  the  use  of  their  natural  fa- 
culties. This  would  be  to  lessen  the  dignity  of  his 
Majesty  in  favour  of  our  sloth,  and  in  prejudice  to 
our  reason. 

3.  The  only  case  then  wherein  a  mission  of  any 
one  from  heaven  can  be  reconciled  to  the  high  and 
awful  thoughts  men  ought  to  have  of  the  Deity, 
must  be  the  revelation  of  some  supernatural  truths 
relating  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  some  great  con- 
cern of  men.  Supernatural  operations  attesting 
such  a  revelation  may  with  reason  be  taken  to  be 
miracles,  as  carrying  the  marks  of  a  superior  and 
overruling  power,  as  long  as  no  revelation  accom- 
panied with  marks  of  a  greater  power  appears 
against  it.  Such  supernatural  signs  may  justly 
etand  good,  and  be  received  for  divine,  i.  e.  wrought 
by  a  power  superior  to  all,  till  a  mission  attested 
by  operations  of  a  greater  force  shall  disprove 
them  :  because  it  cannot  be  supposed  God  should 
suffer  his  prerogative  to  be  so  far  usurped  by  any 
inferior  being,  as  to  permit  any  creature,  depend- 
ing on  him,  to  set  his  seals,  the  marks  of  his  divine 
authority,  to  a  mission  coming  from  him.  For 
these  supernatural  signs  being  the  only  means 
God  is  conceived  to  have  to  satisfy  men,  as  rational 
creatures,  of  the  certainty  of  any  thing  he  would 
reveal,  as  coming  from  himself,  can  never  consent 
that  it  should  be  wrested  out  of  his  hands,  to  serve 
the  ends  and  establish  the  authority  of  an  inferior 
agent  that  rivals  him.  His  power  being  known  to 
have  no  equal,  always  will,  and  always  may  be 
safely  depended  on,  to  show  its  superiority  in  vin- 
dicating his  authority,  and  maintaining  every  truth 
that  he  hath  revealed.  So  that  the  marks  of  a  su- 
perior power  accompanying  it,  always  have  been, 

82  (19) 


and  always  will  be,  a  visible  and  sure  guide  to  di- 
vine revelation  ;  by  which  men  may  conduct  them- 
selves in  their  examining  of  revealed  religions,  and 
be  satisfied  which  they  ought  to  receive  as  coming 
from  God ;  though  they  have  by  no  means  ability 
precisely  to  determine  what  is,  or  is  not  above  the 
force  of  any  created  being ;  or  what  opera- 
tions can  be  performed  by  none  but  a  divine  power, 
and  require  the  immediate  hand  of  the  Almighty. 
And  therefore  we  see  it  is  by  that  our  Saviour 
measures  the  great  unbelief  of  the  Jews,  John  xv. 
24,  saying,  "  If  I  had  not  done  among  them  the 
works  which  no  other  man  did,  they  had  not  had 
sin ;  but  now  have  they  both  seen  and  hated  both 
me  and  my  Father  ;"  declaring,  that  they  could 
not  but  see  the  power  and  presence  of  God  in  those 
many  miracles  he  did,  which  were  greater  than 
ever  any  other  man  had  done.  When  God  sent 
Moses  to  the  children  of  Israel  with  a  message, 
that  now,  according  to  his  promise,  he  would  re- 
deem them  by  his  hand  out  of  Egypt,  and  furnish- 
ed him  with  signs  and  credentials  of  his  mission  ; 
it  is  very  remarkable  what  God  himself  says  of 
those  signs,  Exod.  iv.  8  :  "And  it  shall  come  to 
pass,  if  they  will  not  believe  thee,  nor  hearken  to 
the  voice  of  the  first  sign  (which  was  turning  his 
rod  into  a  serpent)  that  they  will  believe  the  voice 
of  the  latter  sign  ;"  (which  was  the  making  his 
hand  leprous  by  putting  it  in  his  bosom ;)  God 
further  adds,  v.  9,  "  And  it  shall  come  to  pass,  if 
they  will  not  believe  also  these  two  signs,  neither 
hearken  unto]thy  voice,  that  thou  shalt  take  of  the 
water  of  the  river  and  pour  upon  the  dry  land : 
and  the  water  which  thou  takest  out  of  the  river 
shall  become  blood  upon  the  dry  land."  Which 
of  those  operations  was  or  was  not  above  the 
force  of  all  created  beings,  will,  I  suppose,  be  hard 
for  any  man,  too  hard  for  a  poor  brick-maker,  to 
determine ;  and  therefore  the  credit  and  certain 
reception  of  the  mission,  was  annexed  to  neither 
of  them,  but  the  prevailing  of  their  attestation 
was  heightened  by  the  increase  of  their  number ; 
two  supernatural  operations  showing  more  power 
than  one,  and  three  more  than  two.  God  allowed 
that  it  was  natural,  that  the  marks  of  greater 
power  should  have  a  greater  impression  on  the 
minds  and  belief  of  the  spectators.  Accordingly 
the  Jews  by  this  estimate  judged  of  the  miracles 
of  our  Saviour,  John  vii.  31,  where  we  have  this 
account :  "  And  many  of  the  people  believed  on 
him,  and  said,  '  When  Christ  cometh  will  he  do 
more  miracles  than  these  which  this  man  hath 
done  ?"  This,  perhaps,  as  it  is  the  plainest,  so  it 
is  also  the  surest  way  to  preserve  the  testimony 
of  miracles  in  its  due  force  to  all  sorts  and  degrees 
of  people.  For  miracles  being  the  basis  on  which 
divine  mission  is  always  established,  and  conse- 
quently that  foundation  on  whicli  the  believers  of 
any  divine  revelation  must  ultimately  bottom  their 
faith,  this  use  of  them  would  be  lost,  if  not  to  all 
mankind,  yet  at  least  to  the  simple  and  illiterate,, 
(which  is  the  far  greatest  part,)  if  miracles  be  de- 
fined  to  be  none  but  such  divine  operations  as  are 
in  themselves  beyond  the  power  of  all  created 
beings,  or  at  least  operations  contrary  to  the  fixed 
and  established  laws  of  nature.  For  as  to  the 
latter  of  those,  what  are  the  fixed  and  established 
laws  of  nature,  philosophers  alone,  if  at  least  tliey, 
can  pretend  to  determine.    And  if  they  are  to  be 


36 


A    DISCOURSE    ON    MIRACLE! 


operations  performable  only  by  divine  power,  1 1 
doubt  whether  any  man,  learned  or  unlearned, 
can,  in  most  cases,  be  able  to  say  of  any  particu- 
lar operation  that  can  fall  under  his  senses,  that 
it  is  certainly  a  miracle.  Before  he  can  come  to 
that  certamty,  he  must  know  that  no  created  be- 
ing has  a  power  to  perform  it.  We  know  good 
and  bad  angels  have  abilities  and  excellencies  ex- 
ceedingly beyond  all  our  poor  performances  or 
narrow  comprehensions.  But  to  define  what  is 
the  utmost  extent  of  power  that  any  of  them  has, 
is  a  bold  imdertaking  of  a  man  in  the  dark,  that 
pronounces  without  seeing,  and  sets  bounds  in  his 


narrow  cell  to  things  at  an  infinite  distance  from 
his  model  and  comprehension. 

Such  definitions  therefore  of  miracles,  however 
specious  in  discourse  and  theory,  fail  us  when  we 
come  to  use,  and  an  application  of  them  in  parti- 
cular cases. 

These  thoughts  concerning  miracles,  were  oc- 
casioned by  my  reading  Mr.  Fleetwood's  Essay 
on  Miracles,  and  the  letter  written  to  him  on  that 
subject.  The  one  of  them  defining  a  miracle  to 
be  an  extraordinary  operation  performable  by  God 
alone  ;  and  the  other  writing  of  miracles  without 
any  definition  of  a  miracle  at  all. 


THE 


LIVES,  ACTS,  AND  MARTYRDOMS 


HOLY     APOSTLES 


SAVIOUR. 


TO   WHICH   ARE   ADDED, 

LIVES  OF  THE  TWO  EVANGELISTS, 

ST.   MARK    AND    ST.    LUKE. 

AS    ALSO,    A    BRIEF    ENUMERATION     AND    ACCOUNT     OF    THE    APOSTLES    AND 

THEIR   SUCCESSORS    FOR   THE   FIRST   THREE   HUNDRED   TEARS, 

IN    THE   FIVE   GREAT   APOSTOLICAL   CHURCHES. 


BY  WILLIAM  CAVE,  D.  D. 


WITH 

AN    INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY, 

BY   THE 

REV.  HENRY  STEBBING,  M.  A. 


NEW-YORK : 

THOMAS  GEORGE,  JR.,  SPRUCE  STREET. 

1836. 


INTRODUCTORY     ESSAY 


There  are  certain  eras  in  the  history  of  mankind 
which  require  to  be  contemplated  by  many  and 
various  hghts.  This  is  especially  the  case  with 
those  which  have  derived  their  importance  from 
giving  birth  to  new  moral  systems,  or  from  bruig- 
ing  into  more  conspicuous  action  the  spiritual  en- 
ergies of  our  race.  PoUtical  revolutions  naturally 
form  remarkable  points  in  the  annals  of  nations, 
because  attended  with  events  to  which  the  tenaci- 
ty of  human  sympathy  would  of  itself  give  a  dura- 
ble importance :  but  in  those  changes  which  have 
reached  the  souls  of  men,  a  power  is  found  to  be 
at  work,  the  dimmest  discovery  of  which  never 
fails  to  act  with  an  elevating  force  on  the  mind  of 
the  discoverer.  It  is  a  noble  property  of  the  hu- 
man conscience  to  be  able  to  recognize  the  Al- 
mighty in  creation ;  but  this  is  so  generally  the 
endowment  of  man,  that  he  is  expected,  even  in 
his  lowest  condition,  to  act  according  to  the  light 
he  may  thence  derive ;  whereas,  to  behold  God  in 
the  secret  workings  of  his  providence,  in  the  pre- 
parations and  dispensings  of  his  Spirit,  is  in  the 
power  only  of  those  whom  he  has  singularly  favor- 
ed with  wisdom  and  the  love  of  meditation.  But 
in  many  of  those  events  which  compose  the  bulk 
of  history,  he  effects  his  designs  by  the  operation 
of  agents  which  seem  to  partake  almost  as  little 
of  his  living  spirit  as  the  matter  which  composes 
the  machinery  of  the  universe :  and  thus,  in  the 
study  of  history,  a  large  portion  of  it  may  be  read 
without  demanding  or  eliciting  any  extraordinary 
proof  of  mental  vigor ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
every  passage  which  describes  the  new  position 
into  which  mankind  is  put,  by  an  enlargement  of 
light  and  knowledge,  demands,  and  when  fairly 
contemplated,  produces  another  and  a  higher  state 
of  mind.  While  however  this  is  the  fruit  of  that 
nobler  class  of  historical  truths,  they  also  require 
a  more  copious  illustration  than  others,  to  be 
brought  within  the  scope  and  operation  of  our  un- 
derstanding.  The  higher  we  ascend  in  the  regions 
of  speculation,  the  firmer  should  be  our  supports ; 
a  rule  the  neglect  of  which  has  exemplified  almost 
more  than  any  thing  else,  the  pride  and  folly  of 
human  reason  ;  for,  however  otherwise  it  may  ap- 
pear to  superficial  minds,  it  is  mainly  owing  to  our 
negligence  or  indifference  that  there  is  not  found 
in  the  very  loftiest  ranges  of  human  thought,  in 
those  which  it  is  supposed  by  the  world  exist  only 
for  wild  hypothesis,  firm  footing  for  reason,  and 
bright  and  visible  temples  of  truth, — islands  and 
continents  lying  beyond  the  vast  ocean  of  uncer- 
tainty, which  are  not  the  less  real  because  but 
rarely  visited,  nor  the  less  beautiful  because  their 
starry  galaxies  have  not  yet  been  submitted  to  our 
calculations.  The  same  remark  holds  good  also  in 
respect  to  the  less  speculative  part  of  such  inqui- 
ries. There  is  both  a  greater  degree  of  evidence 
required,  and  a  greater  degree  given,  for  unfolding 


the  moral  truths  of  history  ;  and  where  this  is  pro-  ' 
perly  taken  advantage  of— when  the  mind,  intent 
on  the  object  of  inquiry,  gathers  around  it  what- 
ever can  emit  even  the  smallest  ray  of  light,  and 
history  is  examined  as  a  body  instinct  with  spirits 
which  have  their  immortality  within  it,  and  will 
come  forth  and  manifest  themselves  at  the  call  of 
thought  rightly  spending  its  preparatory  vigils ;  then 
the  most  important  eras  of  our  existence,  those  in 
which  we  have  been  perceptibly  carried  towards 
the  great  beacon-Ught  of  humanity,  will  enable  us 
to  observe  those  changes  in  their  origin  which  have 
had  the  most  beneficial  influence  on  our  state  and 
nature,  and  to  converse  with  the  just  men  who, 
now  made  perfect,  had  then  to  struggle  with 
temptations  and  difficulties  like  our  own. 

But  glancing  over  the  wide  circle  of  human  his- 
tory, with  the  distinct  purpose  of  discovering  the 
periods  at  which  mankind  were  most  forcibly  ap- 
pealed to,  and  influenced,  in  their  spiritual  capaci- 
ty, it  is  impossible  for  us  not  to  find  our  attention 
at  once  arrested  by  the  singular  splendor  which 
marks  the  birth  and  growth  of  Christianity.  If 
we  may  find  a  type  in  creation,  of  that  second  great 
demonstration  of  divine  love,  we  see  the  light 
which  at  first  existed  only  in  its  own  limitless  foua- 
tains,  and  but  a  few  scintillations  of  which  before 
shone  upon  the  world,  tiien  poured  into  a  glorious 
orb  to  shed  constant  beauty  and  fertility  over  the 
universe ;  for  the  slightest  examination  of  history 
shows,  that  what  was  before  but  uncertainly  known 
in  morals,  thenceforward  became  fixed  in  princi- 
ples ;  and  that  the  truths  which  had  been  made 
palatable  by  their  mixture  with  error,  then  became 
sufficiently  attractive  of  themselves  to  secure  the 
attention  of  the  world.  In  the  subsequent  con- 
flicts between  truth  and  error,  a  change  is  per- 
ceptible both  in  the  modes  of  attack  and  defence, 
and  in  the  instruments  employed  for  carrying  on 
the  struggle.  Error  dared  not  deny  the  unity  of 
God — truth  feared  not  to  assert  it  as  the  founda- 
tion of  all  holiness  :  instead  of  marshalling  the 
shadowy  ranks  of  mythological  powers,  and  look- 
ing for  the  soul  of  a  deity  under  each  broad  shield 
of  the  abstract  virtues,  error  itself  acknowledged 
the  pure  and  mighty  attributes  of  Jehovah,  only 
venturing  to  speak  of  the  variety  of  his  decrees ; 
and  truth,  instead  of  appealing  to  tradition,  or  the 
innate  notions  of  the  soul,  referred  at  once  to  rules 
which  had  received  the  sanction  of  Eternity.  True 
it  is,  that  the  soil  was  not  uniformly  impregnated 
with  the  divine  fire  which  glowed  in  Christianity; 
but  the  external  change  was  sufficiently  great  and 
general  to  show  that  the  world  confessed  the  ac- 
tion of  a  new  element ;  and  from  the  commence- 
ment of  its  operation  to  the  present  hour,  the  ef- 
fects have  been  evidently  on  the  increase. 

The  examination  of  an  era  like  this  is  equally 
interesting  and  important.    It  is  one  of  the  plain- 
(3) 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


est  duties  of  the  inteUectual  and  spiritual  to  do  j 
whatever  lies  in  their  power  to  bring  it  as  distinct-  | 
]y  as  may  be  within  the  general  range  of  men  s  j 
understandings  and  sympathies.  This  has  been  - 
allowed  m  every  age  of  the  Christian  church  ;  and  | 
its  greatest  ornaments  have  gladly  employed  their  , 
learning  and  their  power  of  logical  inquiry  in  this 
eacred  labor.  They  have  considered  that  while  ] 
the  Scriptures  are  the  sole  original  of  docti'ine ; 
while  they  alone  are  to  be  appealed  to  when  we 
would  correct  error,  heal  schism,  rebuke  self-wOl, 
or  do  aught  wliich  belongs  to  the  estabhshing  of 
the  faith,  there  are  many  sources,  both  of  informa- 
tion and  instruction,  which,  properly  opened,  may 
be  made  to  pour  copious  streams  of  knowledge 
into  the  bosom  of  the  Christian  community.  And 
to  this  conclusion  they  have  been  guided  by  the 
diversified  character  of  Scripture  itself;  which, 
while  it  contains  the  fulness  of  doctrine  contains 
the  elements  of  much  beside,  which  is  to  be 
wrouorht  out  by  the  industry  of  the  human  mind ; 
or  which,  bemg  sufficient  for  the  immediate  pur- 
pose in  view,  is  to  content  the  uninquisitive,  but 
form  to  others  the  foundation  of  farther  and  more 
general  inquiry.  This  is  the  case  with  many  of 
those  points  which  it  was  not  consistent  with  the 
intentions  of  Christ  to  direct  his  messengers  to 
teach  as  main  parts  of  their  doctrine  ;  but  which, 
nevertheless,  as  being  in  themselves  true,  could 
not  fail  to  be  involved  in  the  rest,  and  are  to  be 
traced  out  by  the  laborious  and  spiritual  watchful- 
ness of  true  bibUcal  students.  An  example  of  this 
is  afforded  us  in  the  little  stated,  in  direct  terms, 
respecting  the  future  condition  of  the  redeemed, 
and  the  stUl  less  of  the  separate  state  of  the  soul : 
but  by  a  diligent  comparison  of  the  passages 
which  bear  remotely  on  these  subjects,  by  a  care- 
ful treasuring  up  of  all  the  overflowings  of  light 
from  the  main  vessels  of  doctrine,  the  mind  is  re- 
warded with  a  far  nearer  approach  to  the  know- 
ledge of  these  hidden  things  than  the  cursory  read- 
er can  suspect. 

And  while  this  is  the  case  with  respect  to  doc- 
trine, it  is  also  especially  so  in  regard  to  the  his- 
torical development  of  the  gospel  birth-time.  The 
circumstances  recorded  are  separated  widely  from 
each  other  by  matter  of  deeper  importance,  in  the 
main,  than  the  facts  themselves.  Thus  attention 
is  perpetually  drawn  from  the  incidents  of  the  his- 
tory to  the  doctrines  of  the  system,  and  this  more 
than  is  the  case  with  any  other  narrative  in  ex- 
istence ;  if  we  except,  perhaps,  some  few  passages 
of  national  history,  which  describe  the  rise  or  es- 
tablishment of  fundamental  laws.  Hence  arises 
the  necessity  for  especial  care  in  the  study  of 
evangelical  history,  which  has,  indeed,  an  import- 
ance in  relation  to  doctrine  itself  not  always  duly 
estimated  ;  for,  not  to  mention  that  which  is  obvi- 
ous to  all,  its  support  of  the  doctrine,  or  its  illustra- 
tion of  doctrine,  it  is  the  soil  out  of  which  the  seed 
of  eternal  truth  and  hfe  first  sprung,  embodied  in 
visible  forms  :  the  gospel  being  the  incarnation  of 
truth,  and  the  history  which  it  delivers,  the  deve- 
lopment of  that  new  Being  thus,  as  it  were,  born 
into  the  world. 

On  examining  the  several  books  of  the  New 
Testament,  with  a  view  to  the  discovery  of  the 
characters  of  the  several  actors  in  the  events  it 
describes,  it  is  found  that  a  far  more  distinct  por- 


traiture can  be  drawn  of  those  we  are  most  anxi- 
ous to  contemplate  than  would  otherwise  be 
imagined.  Christ  himself  stands  revealed  in  all 
the  fulness  of  celestial  purity  and  goodness  to  the 
eye  of  patient  meditation :  but  it  is  not  by  his 
words  taken  singly,  nor  by  the  separate  considera- 
tion of  particular  miracles ;  it  is  by  bringing  them 
together ;  by  passing  with  him  from  the  crowded 
shores  of  Jordan  to  the  solitary  wilderness ;  and 
from  the  wilderness  to  the  populous  towns  and  vil- 
lages of  Galilee ;  by  accompanying  him  in  spirit 
through  his  trials  and  his  triumphs ;  bringing  them, 
as  near  as  may  be,  within  the  focus  of  a  single 
glance  of  faith,  that  the  character  of  Christ,  that 
Clirist  liimself,  is  known  in  the  manner  described 
by  the  evangelist  John  ;  that  is,  so  as  to  be  seen 
and  handled  as  the  word  of  life.  The  same,  in 
a  lower  sense,  is  true  of  his  chief  apostles.  St. 
Peter,  for  example,  had  a  character  distinctly 
marked  by  several  pecuUarities  of  mind  and  tem- 
per ;  but  it  is  only  on  one  or  two  main  facts  of 
his  history  that  the  ordmary  reader  of  the  gos- 
pel  fixes  his  attention ;  and  the  other  circum- 
stances respecting  him  being  neglected,  liis 
zeal  and  his  fall,  the  two  extreme  points,  are  so 
brought  together  as  to  destroy  the  possibility  of 
presentmg  him  to  the  mind  in  the  proper  propor- 
tions of  human  character.  On  taking,  however, 
into  consideration  the  ordinary  account  given  of 
his  countrymen,  the  Galileans,  described  as  na- 
turally  fierce,  bold,  and  impatient  of  contradic- 
tion ;  adding  to  this,  a  due  weighing  of  the  cir- 
cumstances attending  the  life  of  a  fisherman,  ex- 
posed to  many  perils,  often  called  to  reflection  by 
the  startling  phenomena  of  the  deep  :  then  pass- 
ing to  the  view  of  the  incidents  which  occurred 
after  his  call ;  his  apparent  attachment  to  home  ; 
his  eagerness  to  avail  himself  of  his  privileges  as 
a  disciple  of  Christ ;  the  ready  surrender  which 
he  made  of  his  mind  to  the  doctrines  of  his  master ; 
his  astonishment  on  Tabor;  his  weariness  in 
Gethsemane ;  his  terror  in  the  judgment-hall,  will 
be  seen  in  their  natural  bearings  and  relations. 
To  these  particulars  may  be  added,  the  incidents 
recorded  of  him  after  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
of  which  sufficient  are  related  to  place  him  dis- 
tinctly  before  us,  and  to  show  that  the  ground- 
work of  his  personal  character  still  retained  its 
strong,  original  pecuharities.  Then,  leaving  the 
narrative,  we  may  turn  to  his  epistles,  which  ce- 
ment and  admirably  illustrate  whatever  is  found 
written  of  him  in  the  Scripture  history.  Glowing 
with  all  the  fervor  natural  to  his  soul,  deeply  im- 
bued with  the  associations  of  his  venerable  faith 
in  the  prophets,  and  elevated  by  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  the  sublimest  mysteries  of  spirit- 
ual religion,  we  hear  him  speaking  the  language 
which  might  be  looked  for  from  one  who  had  not 
only  been  on  the  mount  of  transfiguration,  but 
had  proclaimed  the  divinity  of  Christ,  and  had  re- 
ceived gifts  of  knowledge  proportionable  to  his 
faith.  But  there  is  a  striking  feature  in  these 
epistles  biographically  considered ;  they  abound 
in  maxims  remarkable  for  sedateness  and  cau- 
tiousness of  spirit :  they  exhort  to  duties  which 
only  the  most  self-subdued  heart  can  understand  ; 
and  the  quick,  impetuous  Peter  is  heard  admonish- 
ing with  a  mildness  and  serenity  of  argument 
which  might  only  have  been  looked  for  from  the 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


most  gentle  of  human  spirits.  Light  is  thus 
thrown  upon  tlie  disposition  of  Peter,  and  upon  the 
state  of  his  mind  when  he  had  passed  the  greatest 
portion  of  his  career  as  a  preacher  of  the  gospel ; 
and  we  are  hereby  enabled  to  contemplate  his 
completed  character.  In  doing  this,  we  find  it 
retaining  all  the  elements  which  gave  it  a  degree 
of  rude  grandeur  even  at  the  commencement  of 
his  course ;  which  made  us  feel,  when  he  first 
pronounced  his  most  sublime  confession,  "  Thou 
art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God  !"  and  when  he 
dared  to  attempt  a  pathway  over  an  angry  sea, 
because  it  led  to  his  Lord,  that  a  man  had  risen 
before  us  destined  for  great  purposes :  we  find 
him  neither  less  ardent  or  less  courageous ;  neither 
less  affectionate  nor  less  susceptible  ;  but  these,  his 
original  characteristics,  are  all  nobly  blended  with 
the  loftier  attributes  of  an  apostle  confirmed  in  the 
faith,  filled  with  the  wisdom  of  experience,  and 
grown  familiar  with  the  great  Spirit  of  Truth,  by 
long  and  intimate  communion  with  him  in  every 
scene  and  circumstance  of  life. 

On  looking  again  at  the  account  given  of  St. 
Paul,  though  we  find  the  circumstances  related  of 
his  ministry  more  numerous,  and  set  forth  in  a 
more  distinct  order,  they  plainly  require  to  be 
brought  together  by  great  care,  and  with  all  the 
succinctness  which  the  energy  of  inquiry  can  give 
them,  before  the  apostles  of  the  Gentiles  will  be 
seen  in  the  true  light  which  history,  properly  em- 
ployed, may  render.  In  this  case,  the  great  ef- 
fort required  is  to  bring  the  brief  but  important 
narrative  of  his  labors  into  immediate  connection 
with  his  own  compositions ;  a  point  which  may  be 
reached  with  little  or  no  difiiculty  so  far  as  the 
mechanical  or  formal  arrangement  is  concerned ; 
but  to  effect  which,  so  as  to  make  them  mutually 
illustrate  each  other,  is  a  work  of  skUl,  and  the 
reward  of  thoughtfulness.  The  history  given  by 
St.  Luke  is  close  and  rapid  ;  but  we  learn  from  it 
sufficient  to  understand  the  early  zealotry,  the 
deep  enthusiasm,  the  strength  of  Paul's  character, 
which  confirmed  him  in  his  early  principles  against 
every  appeal  short  of  the  strongest  demonstra- 
tions of  the  will  of  God.  Striking,  however,  as 
might  be  the  portrait  drawn  of  this  wonderful 
man,  had  we  only  his  history  as  recorded  in  the 
Acts,  that  which  is  most  admirable  in  his  charac- 
ter would  be  but  weakly  exhibited  through  this 
unassisted  medium.  It  is  in  his  epistles,  and  that 
in  many  passages  which  an  inattentive  reader 
would  pass  over,  without  discovering  either  their 
historical  or  spiritual  force,  that  the  peculiarities, 
the  bright  and  glorious  individuality  of  St.  Paul  is 
to  be  found  displayed.  Whatever  is  said  by  critics 
of  those  marvellous  idioms  of  true  poetry  which 
penetrate  the  mysteries  of  our  nature,  and  are  so 
precious  as  indications  of  large  classes  of  truths, 
may  be  said  of  numerous  incidental  expressions 
and  allusions  in  the  writings  of  this  apostle  ;  and 
by  observing  these,  we  arrive  at  a  knowledge  not 
only  of  his  labors,  of  his  energy  and  perseverance, 
but  of  his  intellectual  being,  as  wrought  upon,  and 
possessed  by  the  Spirit  of  holiness  whom  he,  on 
the  other  hand,  (and  in  this  consisted  the  great 
mystery  of  his  renewed  nature,)  sought  to  pos- 
sess. "Not  as  though  I  had  already  attained, 
either  were  already  perfect ;  but  I  follow  after,  if 
that  /  may  apprehend  that  for  which  also  /  am  ap- 


prehended." A  sentiment  embodying  the  highest 
doctrine  of  evangelical  righteousness,  and  made 
palpable  to  the  understanding  of  every  man  by 
this  deeply  pathetic  confession  of  the  apostle. 

Scripture  history,  when  thus  studied,  affords 
more  distinct  portraits  of  the  characters  it  men- 
tions than  many  of  the  most  celebrated  of  secular 
narratives  ;  but  it  is  to  be  regretted,  that  in  the 
general  reading  of  the  divine  records,  that  which 
is  historical  is  not  less  neglected  than  what  is 
purely  doctrinal  or  monitory  ;  and  thus  the  con- 
ception of  those  characters  which  the  Scriptures 
set  forth  m  the  two-fold  light  of  chosen  agents  in 
the  great  works  of  Providence,  and  examples  to 
the  universal  race  of  man,  is  too  indefinite  either 
to  move  the  heart,  or  to  fill  up  the  space  they  are 
intended  to  occupy  in  the  argument  of  faith.  It 
was  the  consideration  of  these  circumstances 
which  first  led  to  the  composition  of  Uves  of  the 
Saviour  and  his  immediate  followers,  founded  on 
the  relations  of  Scripture,  but  intended  to  present 
the  principal  facts  and  minute  particulars,  which 
lie  widely  dispersed  through  the  books  of  Reve- 
lation, in  a  condensed  and  consecutive  order.  In 
undertaking  this  task,  however,  even  the  most 
careful  of  writers  would  naturally  inquire,  whether 
there  were  not  other  sources  of  information  which 
might  be  safely  employed  to  furnish  the  means  of 
minuter  description  than  those  which  ought  to  be 
looked  for  in  a  record  of  revelations  and  doctrines, 
rather  than  of  events.  Clear  and  impressive  as 
were  the  forms  which  rose  before  the  contempla- 
tive eye  of  the  spiritualized  student,  it  could  not 
be  denied  that  the  bolder  the  hand  seemed  by 
which  the  outline  was  drawm,  the  deeper  the  tints 
which  filled  it  up,  the  more  attractive  and  satis- 
factory would  the  whole  be  likely  to  prove  to  the 
ordinary  reader.  Hence  sprang  the  mingled  ne- 
cessity and  temptation  which  gave  such  value  to 
the  traditions  which  arose,  hke  a  thick  mist,  some- 
times fi-om  the  natural  heat  of  the  current  of 
events,  at  others  from  its  impurity  and  stagnation. 
In  both  cases  the  use  made  of  them  necessarily 
depended  on  the  honesty  and  the  skill  of  those 
who  employed  them  in  illustration  or  continuation 
of  the  Scripture  narrative.  But  unfortunately, 
the  credulity  of  some,  and  the  artifice  of  others, 
speedily  brought  the  use  of  traditionary  remains 
into  disrepute ;  and  it  soon  became  a  question 
with  tliose  whose  stern  worship  of  truth  prevented 
their  discriminating  between  them,  whether  the 
traditionary  was  not  the  same  as  the  fabulous. 

This  is  a  question  of  immense  importance  in  the 
history  of  our  religion  ;  and  it  need  scarcely  be 
mentioned,  that  some  of  the  bitterest  controversies 
in  wliich  different  divisions  of  Christians  have  been 
eno-ao-ed,  derived  much  of  tlieir  rancor  from  the 
doubts  attending  this  subject.  But  so  far  as  the 
biography  of  the  eminent  founders  of  our  religion 
is  concerned,  the  question  admits  of  limitations 
which  bring  it  within  the  possibility  of  solution. — 
It  is  not  to  establish  disputed  points  of  doctrine 
that  we  desire  to  see  these  chosen  and,  without  a 
metaphor,  heaven-born  men  as  they  lived  and 
acted ;  but  to  be  soothed,  elevated,  and  encour- 
ao-ed  in  our  struggles  by  their  example.  The 
appeal  to  tradition,  therefore,  for  biographical  pur- 
poses, has  none  of  the  suspicion  which  attends  it 
when  employed  to  serve  any  partial  design  ;  and 


NTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


to  this  consideration,  Avhich  removes  one  very  ma- 
terial class  of  objections  to  its  employment,  we 
may  add  another  which  enlarges  the  sphere  out 
of  which  the  writer  may,  with  safety  and  honesty, 
draw  materials  for  his  purpose  ;  that  is  to  say, 
there  is  probability  on  the  side  of  tradition  in  re- 
spect to  its  biographical  uses  ;  and  it  can  almost 
always  be  judged  of  by  the  rule  of  verisimilitude, 
when  limited  to  this  employment.  It  is  an  ac- 
knowledged fact,  that  the  writers  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament s^elected  the  circumstances  they  recorded 
out  of  a  much  larger  number  of  incidents  than  it 
came  within  their  province  to  detail :  were  it  not, 
therefore,  a  sacred  duty  to  sacrifice  every  object 
to  the  perfect  preservation  of  Scripture  from  the 
least  mixture  with  even  possible  error,  it  might  be 
argued,  that  it  is  not  probable,  that  the  striking 
and  powerfully  interesting  events  connected  with 
the  establishment  of  the  gospel,  could  any  of  them 
be  lost ;  and  that  we  may  therefore  look  with 
confidence  on  many  of  those  traditionary  relations 
which  purport  to  be  details  of  occurrences  left 
unnoticed  by  the  inspired  penmen. 

But  tlie  judicious  jealousy  with  which  the  puri- 
ty of  the  gospel  is  watched,  has  raised  a  barrier 
against  the  introduction  of  such  auxiliaries  to  the 
Scripture  narrative.  Where  this  narrative  ceases, 
the  case  becomes  different,  and  the  probability  of 
the  tradition  remains  without  any  prohibition  to 
its  employment.  The  character  of  the  period  im- 
mediately succeeding  the  first  founding  of  the 
church,  was  singularly  fitted  for  the  production  of 
incidents  not  sufficiently  important  to  demand  a 
continuance  of  the  sacred  and  inspired  narrative, 
but  in  every  way  calculated  to  excite  and  secure 
attention.  When  the  apostles  and  first  disciples 
left  the  original  seat  of  the  gospel,  to  spread  its 
glad  tidings  over  the  world,  they  did  not  perform 
their  allotted  duties  with  so  little  energy  as  to  re- 
main obscure  among  the  people  to  whom  they  mi- 
nistered. Fulfilling  the  precept  of  their  glorified 
Master,  they  became  beacons  of  truth,  shining 
from  the  eminence  on  which  their  election  had 
placed  them,  over  wide  regions  of  gloom  and 
sterility  ;  but  not  freed  from  suffering,  they  were 
also  set  forth  to  men  and  to  angels  a  spectacle  of 
much  and  patient  endurance.  In  both  these  re- 
spects the  apostles  could  not  fail  of  being  scruti- 
nized by  large  classes  of  observers,  who  moved  by 
their  doctrines,  startled  by  their  miracles,  or  en- 
raged by  their  severe  rebukes,  would  not  easily 
forget  their  addresses,  or  lose  sight  of  the  circum- 
stances which  attended  their  appeals.  The  per- 
sonal appearance,  the  voice  and  gesture  even  of 
such  men,  would  long  have  a  permanent  place  in 
the  memory  ;  and  many  a  saying,  many  a  minute 
action  that  had  sunk  deep  into  the  hearts  of  retired, 
devout  converts,  would,  when  the  spirit  became 
accustomed  to  the  new  and  overpowering  thoughts 
which  the  gospel  message  had  awakened,  come 
back  upon  the  mind  with  a  long,  fresh  train  of  im- 
pressive associations. 

It  may  fairly  be  concluded  from  these  conside- 
rations, that  for  some  time  after  the  apostles  Uved, 
the  memory  of  Christians  was  richly  stored  with 

{>articulars  respecting  them :  that  these  particu- 
ars  would  form  the  subject  of  frequent  conversa- 
tion among  believers  :  that  they  would  be  com- 
municated from  one  division  of  the  church  to  an- 


other, by  the  interchange  of  letters,  and  the  jour- 
neyings  of  ministers  and  missionaries,  is  equally 
probable  ;  and  to  suppose  that  this  species  of  in- 
formation could  be  quickly  lost,  or  that  it  could 
become  so  thoroughly  corrupted  by  the  intermi.x- 
ture  of  fable  as  to  be  unworthy  of  notice  in  a  sub- 
sequent age,  is  to  do  violence  to  the  rules  on  which 
all  evidence  must  rest,  which  is  in  any  way  trans- 
mitted  through  channels  not  sealed  and  guarded 
by  formal  testaments. 

We  would  gather  from  this,  that  a  biographer 
of  the  apostles,  and  their  first  successors,  has  a 
wide  field  open  to  him  which  he  may  traverse 
with  safety  and  profit ;  but  at  the  same  time  im- 
posing on  him  this  strict  and  uniformly  applicable 
rule,  that  that  species  of  traditional  information 
only  is  to  be  made  use  of,  which  is  found  adopted 
by  those  who  lived  at  a  period  sufficiently  near  the 
apostolic  times  to  judge  of  its  origin  and  its  authors. 
Taking  this  as  a  primary  principle  in  the  selection 
of  incidents,  and  in  every  instance  examining  them 
by  the  rule  of  analogy  and  verisimilitude,  there 
will  be  little  danger  of  our  adopting  any  of  those 
weak  inventions  by  which  the  superstition  of  for- 
mer ages  was  amused  and  fostered. 

Lives  of  the  apostles  were  written  at  an  early 
period ;  but  they  are  for  the  most  part  filled  with 
accounts  evidently  intended  to  excite  the  attention 
of  weak,  uninstructed  minds,  and  possessing  no 
claim  to  behef.  The  period  was  favorable  to  such 
productions  ;  the  excitement  occasioned  by  extra- 
ordinary events  requiring  all  those  modifying  prin- 
ciples which  are  only  found  in  the  purest  faith  and 
piety  ;  and  creating,  consequently,  a  very  wide 
field  for  the  employment  of  invention.  This  is 
amply  shown  by  the  rapid  multiplication  of  wri- 
tings, purporting  to  have  been  of  apostolic  origin. 
Even  before  the  end  of  the  first  century  new  gos- 
pels had  been  forged,  and  the  acts  of  Christ  and 
his  apostles  were  described  in  books  which,  claim- 
ing reverence  by  the  nature  of  their  contents, 
were  not  less  calculated  to  interest  than  to  de- 
ceive. Such  were  the  gospel  according  to  the  He- 
brews, and  the  gospel  according  to  the  Egyptians ; 
both  of  whJch  furnished  sufficient  authorities  to 
support  very  numerous  sects  in  dangerous  errors : 
nor  were  they  altogether  deprived  of  their  preten- 
sions to  credit,  till  after  the  canon  of  Scripture  had 
been  some  time  settled  by  diligent  and  cautious 
inquiry.  Besides  these,  there  were  the  gospel  of 
St.  Peter,  the  gospel  of  Philip,  the  gospel  of  James, 
and  of  every  other  apostle,  not  excepting  the  traitor 
Judas  himself,  whose  supposed  composition  is  said 
to  have  been  received  by  the  Gajanites,  of  whom, 
strange  to  relate,  he  was  the  titular  saint.  The 
acts  of  the  apostles^  subsequent  to  the  time  of 
Christ,  furnished  materials  for  an  equal  number  of 
similar  supposititious  narratives.  It  is  commonly 
believed  tliat  the  first  work  of  this  nature  was  the 
production  of  a  disciple  of  St.  Paul,  and  that  the 
writer  was  detected  in  his  falsehoods  by  the  know- 
ledge of  St.  John,  who  still  survived.  The  chief 
source,  however,  of  fabulous  traditions,  was  that 
heretical  spirit  whicli  so  early  infected  tlie  church. 
Most  of  the  spurious  gospels  had  their  origin  with 
the  Ebionites,  the  Manichteans,  or  some  other 
powerful  sect.  From  the  same  source  proceeded 
the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  which  pretended  to  de- 
scribe, in  particular  terms,  the  labors  and  jour- 


NTRODUCTORY    ESSAY. 


neyings  of  those  devout  men  to  the  end  of  their 
days. 

The  whole  of  these  works  were  rejected  by  the 
church ;  and  private  Christians  were  warned 
against  their  dangerous  errors  by  the  many  acute 
and  pious  scholars  who  devoted  themselves  to  the 
examination  of  whatever  assumed  the  title  of  an 
inspired  production.  Conferences  between  the 
believers  of  one  city  and  another,  and  the  succes- 
sion of  highly  devout  and  gifted  men,  as  bishops 
of  the  several  infant  establishments,  led  gradually 
to  the  clear  and  firm  determination  of  the  Scrip- 
ture canon.  Numerous  synods,  held  in  subsequent 
ages,  reinvestigated  with  minute  particularity  the 
reason  upon  which  this  rule  was  established  ;  and 
a  line  was  drawn,  which  the  boldness  of  heresy 
has  never  since  been  able  to  pass.  But  while  no 
writer,  of  common  penetration  or  honesty,  would 
venture  to  look  for  materials  in  these  counterfeit 
narratives,  there  is  still  a  source  of  information 
open,  to  which  suspicion  cannot  justly  attach. — 
This  is  found  in  the  writings  of  those  fathers  who 
lived  in  the  first  three  centuries,  to  the  end  of 
which  period  much  even  of  the  unwritten  history 
of  the  apostolic  age  might  be  carried  by  a  natural 
and  easy  tradition.  The  epistle  generally  ascribed 
to  Barnabas,  though  evidently  unimportant  as  to 
doctrine,  deserves  to  be  regarded  in  a  much  higher 
light  when  consulted  simply  for  historical  illustra- 
tion :  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  remains  of 
Papias,  whose  theoretical  conceits,  though  they 
greatly  diminish  our  confidence  in  the  strength  of 
his  capacity,  ought  certainly  not  to  deprive  him 
of  all  credit  as  a  witness,  when  the  circumstances 
he  mentions  have  no  intrinsic  improbability.  To 
refuse  to  beheve  a  writer  on  a  matter  of  fact,  be- 
cause he  appears  incapable  of  acutely  discerning 
between  truth  and  error  in  theoretical  or  purely 
intellectual  subjects,  would  be  to  introduce  a  rule 
that  would  render  it  impossible,  in  most  cases,  to 
get  evidence  on  any  subject  whatever.  In  the 
fragments  of  such  men  as  Clemens  Romanus,  Ig- 
natius, Polycarp,  the  least  ghmpses  of  information 
are  of  inestimable  value  ;  nor  is  it  to  be  supposed, 
when  coming  to  a  later  period,  that  writers  like 
Origen,  or  Cyprian,  or  Chrysostom,  or  the  histo- 
rian Eusebius  or  Theodore t,  would  not  avail  them- 
selves of  the  most  credible  traditions,  or  that  be- 
fore adopting  them,  they  would  not  fairly  examine 
their  claims  to  belief.  That  much  uncertainty  on 
several  points  of  interest  must  remain,  after  every 
source  of  information  has  been  investigated,  can- 
not be  denied.  But  this  is  not  to  prevent  our 
using  the  utmost  diligence  to  collect  whatever  lies 
witliin  the  reach  of  learning :  and  it  will  generally 
be  found,  that  when  the  combined  caution  and 
sound  erudition  of  Christian  scholars  are  taken 
as  a  guide  on  this  subject,  that  both  instruction 
and  satisfaction  will  follow  in  the  track  they  have 
pursued. 

To  reflecting  minds,  the  biography  of  Christ's 
apostles  traced  out  according  to  these  rules,  will 
afford  many  a  refreshing  and  elevating  theme  for 
thought.  These  messengers  of  Christ  to  the  world 
were  not  teachers  merely  ;  they  were  the  founda- 
tion-stones of  tiie  vast  spiritual  edifice  which  Christ 
and  the  Holy  Spirit  will  continue  to  enlarge,  till  it 
is  commensurate  with  the  predescribed  plan  of  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem :  they  formed  the  natural  body 
83  (19) 


of  the  church  ere  the  might  of  Divine  power  de- 
scended to  present  it  to,  and  to  make  it  one  with 
Christ ;  they  became,  when  his  prayer  was  answer- 
ed, «  sanctify  them  through  thy  truth,"  the  types  of 
Christian  believers  in  all  ages  and  countries  of  the 
world ;  and  in  their  journeyings  and  sufferings  they 
show  how,  according  to  the  language  of  St.  Paul 
the  followers  of  the  Redeemer  were  to  go  on,  "fill- 
ing up  that  which  is  behind  of  the  afflictions  of 
Christ  in  the  flesh."  And  this  contemplation  of 
their  primary  caUing  and  dignity,  will  conduct  the 
mind  to  some  apprehension  of  the  glory  they  will 
be  seen  enjoying  when,  as  the  still  supremely  ex- 
alted, and  eldest  born  brethren  of  Christ,  they 
will  judge,  on  their  thrones,  the  twelve  tribes  of 
Israel. 

The  eminent  writer  of  the  following  memoirs 
merits  all  the  confidence  due  to  distinguished  worth 
and  ability.  His  own  history  may  be  given  m  a 
few  Unes.  He  was  bom  at  the  close  of  the  six- 
teenth, or  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  at 
Pickwell,  in  Leicestershire ;  the  living  of  which 
parish  was  held  by  his  father,  a  man  of  learning 
and  piety,  who  bore  his  full  share  in  the  troubles 
endured  by  the  clergy  during  the  civil  wars.  Our 
author  received  his  education  at  St.  John's  Col- 
lege, Cambridge ;  and  took  the  degree  of  Bachelor 
of  Arts  in  1656.  He  proceeded  to  the  degree  of 
Master  at  the  regular  period  ;  and  in  1662  obtain- 
ed the  vicarage  of  Ishngton,  and  not  long  after 
the  dignity  of  Chaplain  in  Ordinary  to  Charles  the 
Second.  In  1672  he  took  the  degree  of  D.  D.,  to 
which  he  was  also  admitted  at  the  sister  univer- 
sity ;  and  in  1681,  his  merits  as  a  scholar  obtain- 
ed for  him  the  rectory  of  Allliallows,  and  a  canon- 
ry  at  Windsor.  But  the  numerous  calls  which 
his  London  preferments  made  upon  him  were  found 
prejudicial  to  the  important  labors  he  had  under- 
taken as  an  historian  of  Cliristianity  ;  and  he 
gladly  accepted,  in  exchange  for  Islington  and 
Allhallows,  the  vicarage  of  Isleworth,  to  which  he 
retired  in  the  year  1690 ;  and  where  he  continued 
to  enjoy  for  many  years  the  leisure  which  he  em- 
ployed so  greatly  to  the  advantage  of  religion  and 
learning.  His  death  took  place  on  the  4th  of  Au- 
gust, 1713 ;  and  he  lies  buried  in  the  parish 
church  of  Islington,  where  a  monument  is  placed 
to  his  memory. 

The  works  of  this  distinguished  scholar  are 
numerous.  The  chief  are,  the  "  Scriptorum  Ec- 
clesiasticorum  Historia  Literaria,  or,  a  Literary 
History  of  Ecclesiastical  Writers;"  his  "Lives 
of  the  Apostles  ;"  the  "  Apostolici,  or  the  History  of 
the  Lives,  Acts,  Deaths,  and  Martyrdoms  of  those 
who  were  coteniporary  with,  or  immediately  suc- 
ceeded the  apostles,  as  also  of  the  most  emment 
of  the  Primitive  Fathers  for  the  first  three  hundred 
years  ;"  the  "  Primitive  Christianity,  or  the  Re- 
ligion of  the  Ancient  Cluistians  ;"  the  "Tabulae 
Ecclesiasticae,  or  Tables  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Writers  ;"  "  A  Dissertation  concerning  the  Gov- 
ernment of  the  Ancient  church,  by  Bishops,  Me- 
tropolitans, and  Patriarchs ;  those  particularly  con- 
cerning the  Ancient  Power  and  Jurisdiction  of  the 
Bishops  of  Rome,  and  the  encroachment  of  that 
upon  other  Sees,  especially  the  See  of  Constanti- 
nople ;"  "  Ecclesiastici,  or  the  History  of  the 
Lives,  Acts,  Deaths,  and  Writings,  of  the  most 
eminent  Fathers  of  the  church,  that  flourished  in 


8 

the  fourth  century  :  wherein,  among  other  things, 
an  account  is  given  of  the  rise,  growth,  and  pro- 
gress of  Arianism,  and  all  other  sects  of  that  age, 
descending  from  it :  together  with  an  introduction, 
containing  an  Historical  account  of  the  State  of 
Paganism  under  the  first  Christian  Emperor :" 
and  lastly,  the  « Charlophylax  Ecclesiasticus," 
which  is  a  succinct  summary  of  the  principal  con- 
tents of  the  Historia  Literaria,  and  an  improve- 
ment on  the  Ecclesiastical  Tables. 

Cave's  early  estimation  as  a  scholar  on  the  con- 
tinent is  proved  by  the  reprint  of  his  chief  work, 
the  Historia  Literaria,  at  Geneva ;  and  of  his  Ta- 


AUTHOR'S    PREFACE. 


buJEB  Ecclesiasticae  at  Hamburgh :  nor  can  any 
student  of  religious  history  fail  of  finding  in  his 
works  most  important  helps  to  investigation.  Jor- 
tin,  a  writer  more  witty  than  acute,  and  better 
skilled  to  perform  the  part  of  a  compiler  tlian  to 
reason  or  investigate,  has  affected  to  speak  sarcas- 
tically of  Cave's  deep  attention  to  the  fathers  :  but 
the  careful  reader  well  knows  how  to  appreciate 
the  respective  merits  of  these  men ;  and  even  a 
cursory  glance  of  the  "  Historia  Literaria"  of  the 
one,  and  of  the  "  Remarks  on  Ecclesiastical  His- 
tory" of  the  other,  will  at  once  show  how  little 
pretensions  Jortin  had  to  act  the  part  of  a  critic 
in  regard  to  this  profound  scholar. 


AUTHOR'S     PKEFACE. 


It  will  not,  I  suppose,  seem  improbable  to  the 
reader,  when  I  tell  him  with  how  much  reluctanoy 
and  unwillingness  I  set  upon  this  undertaking,  in- 
timately conscious  as  I  was  to  my  own  unfitness 
for  such  a  work  at  any  time,  much  more  when 
clogged  with  many  habitual  infirmities  and  dis- 
tempers. I  considered  the  difficulty  of  the  thing 
itself,  perhaps  not  capable  of  being  well  managed 
by  a  much  better  pen  than  mine  ;  few  of  the  an- 
cient monuments  of  the  church  being  extant,  and 
little  of  this  nature  in  those  few  that  are.  Indeed, 
I  could  not  but  think  it  reasonable,  that  all  possi- 
ble honor  should  be  done  to  those  that  first  "preach- 
ed the  gospel  of  peace,  and  brought  glad  tidings 
of  good  tilings ;"  that  it  was  fit  men  should  be 
taught  how  much  they  were  obliged  to  those  ex- 
cellent persons,  who  were  willing  at  so  dear  a  rate 
to  plant  Christianity  in  the  world ;  who  they  were, 
and  what  was  that  piety  and  that  patience,  that 
charity  and  that  zeal,  which  made  them  to  be  re- 
verenced while  they  lived,  and  their  memories  ever 
since  to  be  honorably  celebrated  through  the  world  ; 
infinitely  beyond  the  glories  of  Alexander,  and  the 
triumphs  of  a  Pompey  or  a  Cffisar.  But  then  how 
this  should  be  done  out  of  those  few  imperfect 
memoirs  that  liave  escaped  the  general  shipwreck 
of  church  antiquities  ;  and  much  more  by  so  rude 
and  unskilful  a  hand  as  mine,  appeared,  I  con- 
fess, a  very  difficult  task,  and  next  door  to  impos- 
sible. These,  with  some  other  considerations, 
made  me  a  long  time  obstinately  resolve  against 
it,  till,  being  overcome  by  importunity,  I  yielded  to 
do  it  as  I  was  able,  and  as  the  nature  of  the  thing 
would  bear. 

That  which  I  primarily  designed  to  myself,  was 
to  draw  down  the  history  of  the  New  Testament, 
especially  from  our  Lord's  death ;  to  inquire  into 
the  first  originals  and  plantations  of  the  Christian 
church  by  the  ministry  of  the  apostles,  the  success 


of  their  doctrine,  the  power  and  conviction  of  their 
miracles,  theu-  infinite  labors  and  hardships,  and 
the  dreadful  sufferings  which  they  underwent ;  to 
consider  in  what  instances  of  piety  and  virtue 
they  ministered  to  our  imitation,  and  served  the 
purposes  of  religion  and  a  holy  life.  Indeed  the 
accounts  that  are  left  us  of  these  things  are  very 
short  anu  inconsiderable  ;  sufficient  possibly  to  ex- 
cite the  appetite,  not  to  allay  the  hunger  of  an 
importunate  inquirer  mto  these  matters.  A  con- 
sideration that  might  give  us  just  occasion  to  la- 
ment the  irreparable  loss  of  those  primitive  records, 
which  the  injury  of  time  hath  deprived  us  of;  the 
substance  being  gone,  and  httle  left  us  but  the 
shell  and  carcass.  Had  we  the  writings  of  Papias, 
bishop  of  Hierapolis,*  and  scholar  (says  Irenaeus) 
to  St.  John ;  wherem,  as  himself  tells  us,  he  set 
down  what  he  had  learnt  from  those  who  had  fa- 
miliarly conversed  with  the  apostles,  the  sayings 
and  discourses  of  Andrew  and  Peter,  of  Philip  and 
Thomas,  &c. ;  had  we  the  ancient  Commentaries 
of  Hegesippus,  Clemens  Alexandrinus's  Institu- 
tions, Africanus's  Chronographj,  and  some  others, 
the  reader  might  expect  more  entire  and  particu- 
lar relations.  But,  alas  !  these  are  long  since  pe- 
rished, and  little  besides  the  names  of  them  trans- 
mitted to  us.  Nor  should  we  have  had  most  of  that 
little  which  is  left  us,  had  not  the  commendable 
care  and  industry  of  Eusebius  preserved  it  to  us. 
And  if  he  complained,  in  his  time,  (when  those 
writings  were  extant,)  that  towards  the  compos- 
ing of  his  history  he  had  only  some  few  particular 
accounts  here  and  there  left  by  the  ancients  ot 
their  times,  what  cause  have  we  to  complain,  when 
even  those  little  portions  have  been  ravished  from 
us  ?  So  that  he  that  would  build  a  work  of  this 
nature,  must  look  upon  himself  as  condemned  to  a 

♦  Hist.  Eccl.  lib.  i.  c.  2.  p.  4. 


AUTHOR'S    PREFACE. 


kind  of  Egyptian  task,  to  make  brick  without 
straw,  at  least  to  pick  it  up  where  he  can  find  it, 
though  after  all  it  amounts  to  a  very  slender  par- 
cel. Which  as  it  greatly  hinders  the  beauty  and 
completeness  of  the  structure,  so  does  it  exceed- 
ingly multiply  the  labor  and  difficulty.  For  by 
this  means  I  have  been  forced  to  gather  up  those 
little  fragments  of  antiquity,  that  lie  dispersed  in 
the  writings  of  the  ancients,  thrown  some  into  this 
corner,  and  others  into  that ;  which  I  have  at 
length  put  together,  like  the  pieces  of  a  broken 
statue,  that  it  might  have  at  least  some  kind  of 
resemblance  of  the  person  whom  it  designs  to  re- 
present. 

Had  I  thought  good  to  have  traded  in  idle  and 
frivolous  authors,  Abdias  Babylonius,  "The  Pas- 
sions of  Peter  and  Paul,"  Joachim  Perionius,  Peter 
de  Natalibus,  and  such  like,  I  might  have  present- 
ed tlie  reader  with  a  larger,  not  a  better  account. 
But,  besides  the  averseness  of  my  nature  to  false- 
hoods and  trifles,  especially  wherein  the  honor  of 
the  Christian  rehgion  is  concerned,  I  knew  the 
world  to  be  wiser  at  this  time  of  day,  than  to  be 
imposed  upon  by  pious  frauds,  and  cheated  with 
ecclesiastical  romances  and  legendary  reports. 
For  this  reason,  I  have  more  fully  and  particularly 
insisted  upon  the  lives  of  the  two  first  apostles,  so 


great  a  part  of  them  being  secured  by  an  unques- 
tionable authority ;  and  have  presented  the  larger  i  fear  being  secretly  surpri 
portions  of  the  sacred  history,  many  times  to  very  ful  and  fabulous  reporti 


minute  circumstances  of  action.  And  I  presume 
the  wise  and  judicious  reader  will  not  blame  me, 
for  choosing  rather  to  enlarge  upon  a  story  which 
I  knew  to  be  infalhbly  true,  than  to  treat  hira  with 
those  vi'hich  there  was  cause  enough  to  conclude 
to  be  certainly  false. 

The  reader  will  easily  discern,  that  the  authors 
I  make  use  of  are  not  all  of  the  same  rank  and  size. 
Some  of  them  are  divinely  inspired,  whose  autho- 
rity is  sacred,  and  their  reports  rendered  not  only 
credible,  but  unquestionable,  by  that  infallible  and 


unerring  spirit  that  presided  over  them.  Others 
such,  of  whose  faith  and  testimony,  especially  in 
matters  of  fact,  there  is  no  just  cause  to  doubt ;  I 
mean  the  genuine  writings  of  the  ancient  fathers  ; 
or  those,  which,  though  unduly  assigned  to  this  or 
that  particular  father,  are  yet  generally  allowed  to 
be  ancient,  and  their  credit  not  to  be  despised,  be- 
cause their  proper  parent  is  not  certainly  known. 
Next  to  these  came  the  writers  of  the  middle  and 
later  a^es  of  the  church,  who,  though  below  the 
former  in  pomt  of  credit,  have  yet  some  particular 
advantages  that  recommend  them  to  us.  Such  I 
account  Symeon  Metaphrastes,  Nicephorus  Cal- 
listus,  the  Mencca  and  Menologies  of  the  Greek 
church,  &c.,  wherein,  though  we  meet  with  many 
vain  and  improbable  stories,  yet  may  we  rational- 
ly expect  some  real  and  substantial  accounts  of 
things ;  especially  seeing  they  had  the  advantage 
of  many  ancient  and  ecclesiastical  writings  extant 
in  their  times,  which  to  us  are  utterly  lost.  Though 
even  these  too  I  have  never  called  in,  but  in  the 
want  of  more  ancient  and  authentic  writers.  As 
for  others,  if  any  passages  occur  either  in  them- 
selves of  doubtful  and  suspected  credit,  or  borrow- 
ed from  spurious  and  uncertain  authors,  they  are 
always  introduced  or  dismissed  with  some  kind  of 
censure  or  remark  ;  that  the  most  easy  and  credu- 
lous reader  may  know  what  to  trust  to,  and  not 
'  '  into  a  belief  of  doubt- 
And  now,  after  all,  I 


am  sufficiently  sensible  how  lank  and  thin  this  ac- 
count is,  nor  can  the  reader  be  less  satisfied  with 
it  than  I  am  myself;  and  I  have  only  this  piece  of 
justice  and  charity  to  beg  of  him,  that  he  would 
suspend  his  censure  till  he  has  taken  a  httle  pains 
to  inquire  into  the  state  of  the  times  and  things  I 
write  of;  and  then,  however  he  may  challenge 
my  prudence  in  undertaking  it,  he  will  not,  I  hope, 
see  reason  to  charge  me  with  want  of  care  and 
faithfulness  in  the  pursuance  of  it. 


LIVES  OF  THE  APOSTLES. 


INTRODUCTION. 

1.  Jesus  Christ,  the  great  apostle  and  high- 
priest  of  our  profession,  being  appointed  by  God 
to  be  the  supreme  ruler  and  governor  of  his 
church,  was,  like  Moses,  faithful  in  all  his  house  ; 
but  with  this  honorable  advantage,  that  Moses 
was  faithful  as  a  servant,  Christ  as  a  son  over  his 
own  house,  which  he  erected,  established,  and 
governed  with  all  possible  care  and  diligence. 
Nor  could  he  give  a  greater  instance  either  of 
his  fidelity  towards  God  or  his  love  and  kindness 
to  the  souls  of  men,  than  that  after  he  had  pur- 
chased a  famdy  to  himself,  and  could  now  no 
longer  upon  earth  manage  its  interests  in  his  own 
person,  he  would  not  return  back  to  heaven  till  he 
had  constituted  several  orders  and  officers  in  his 
church,  who  might  superintend  and  conduct  its 
affairs,  and  according  to  the  various  circumstances 
of  its  state,  administer  to  the  needs  and  exigen- 
cies of  his  family.  Accordingly  therefore,  "lie 
gave  some  apostles,  and  some  prophets,  and  some 
evangelists,  and  some  pastors  and  teachers,  for 
the  perfecting  of  the  saints,  for  the  work  of  the 
ministry,  for  the  edifying  of  the  body  of  Christ ; 
till  we  all  come  into  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of 
the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  perfect 
man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  ful- 
ness of  Christ."*  The  first  and  prime  class  of 
officers  is  that  of  apostles  :  God  had  set  some  in 
the  church,  first  apostles,  secondarily  prophets, 
&c.  First  apostles,  as  far  in  office  as  honor  be- 
fore the  rest,  their  election  more  immediate,  their 
commission  more  large  and  comprehensive,  the 
powers  and  privileges  wherewith  they  were  fur- 
nished greater  and  more  honorable.  Prophecy, 
the  gift  of  miracles  and  expelling  daBmons,  the  or- 
der  of  pastors  and  teachers,  were  all  spiritual 
powers,  and  ensigns  of  great  authority,  aX)^a  tovtuv 

airavTOiv  fici^wv  is'iv    apxi  V    dwo^oXiKr;,    SayS    ChrySOS- 

tom ;  "  but  the  apostolic  eminency  is  far  greater 
than  all  these;"  which  therefore  he  calls  a  spirit- 
ual consulship:  an  apostle  having  as  great  pre- 
eminence above  all  other  officers  in  the  church,  as 
the  consul  had  above  all  other  magistrates  in 
Rome.  These  apostles  were  a  few  select  per- 
sons whom  our  Lord  chose  out  of  the  rest,  to  de- 
volve part  of  the  government  upon  their  shoulders, 
and  to  depute  for  the  first  planting  and  settling 
Christianity  in  the  world:  "he  chose  twelve, 
whom  he  named  apostles  ;"f  of  whose  lives  and 
acts  being  to  give  an  historical  account  in  the  fol- 
lowing work,  it  may  not,  possibly,  be  unuseful  to 
premise  some  general  remarks  concerning  them, 
not  respecting  this  or  that  particular  person,  but 


*Eph.iv,  11,12,13. 


t  Luke  vi.  13. 


of  a  general  relation  to  the  whole :  wherein  we 
shall  especially  take  notice  of  the  importance  of 
the  word,  the  nature  of  the  employment,  the  fit- 
ness and  qualification  of  the  persons,  and  the  du- 
ration and  continuance  of  the  office. 

2.  The  word  aTToaroXos,  or  sent,  is  among  ancient 
writers  applied  either  to  things,  actions,  or  per- 
sons. To  things  :  thus,  those  dimissory  letters 
that  were  granted  to  such  who  appealed  from  an 
inferior  to  a  superior  judicature,  were  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Roman  laws  usually  called  apostoli  : 
Thus,  a  packet-boat  was  styled  airooToXov  irXowv,  be- 
cause sent  up  and  down  for  advice  and  despatch 
of  business.  Thus,  though  in  somewhat  a  dif- 
ferent sense,  the  lesson  taken  out  of  the  epistles 
is  in  the  ancient  Greek  lit\irgies,  called  airoffroXot ; 
because  usually  taken  out  of  the  apostles'  wri- 
tings. Sometimes  it  is  applied  to  actions,  and  so 
imports  no  more  than  mission,  or  the  very  act  of 
sending.  Thus  the  setting  out  a  fleet  or  a  naval 
expedition,  was  wont  to  be  called  aTroirroXot ;  so 
Suidas  tells  us,  that  as  the  persons  designed  for  the 
care  and  management  of  the  fleet  were  called 
avotToUts,  so  the  very  sending  fbrth  of  the  ships 

themselves,  ai  ruv  vtwv  tKTTonnai,  were  styled  anoaroXot. 

Lastly ;  what  principally  falls  under  our  present 
consideration,  it  is  applied  to  persons ;  and  so  im- 
ports no  more  than  a  messenger,  a  person  sent 
upon  some  special  errand,  for  the  discharge  of 
some  peculiar  affair  in  his  name  that  sent  him. 
Thus  Epaphroditus  is  called  the  apostle  or  mes- 
senger of  the  Philippians,*  when  sent  by  them  to 
St.  Paul  at  Rome.  Thus  Titus  and  his  com- 
panions are  styled  aroroXai  "  the  messengers  of  the 
churches."  So  our  Lord;  "He  that  is  sent," 
airoroXof,  an  apostle  or  messenger  "  is  not  greater 
than  he  that  sent  him."  This,  then,  being  the 
common  notion  of  the  word,  our  Lord  fixes  it  to  a 
particular  use,  applying  it  to  those  select  persons 
whom  he  had  made  choice  of  to  act  by  that  pecu- 
liar authority  and  commission  which  he  had  de- 
rived upon  them.  Twelve,  whom  he  also  named 
apostles  ;  that  is,  commissioners,  those  who  were 
to  be  ambassadors  for  Ciirist,  to  be  sent  up  and 
down  the  world  in  his  name,  to  plant  the  faith,  to 
govern  and  superintend  the  church  at  present, 
and,  by  their  wise  and  prudent  settlement  of 
affairs,  to  provide  for  the  future  exigencies  of  the 
church. 

3.  The  next  thing  then  to  be  considered  is  the 
nature  of  their  office ;  and  under  this  inquiry  we 
shall  make  these  following  remarks.  First,  it  is 
not  to  be  doubted  but  that  our  Lord  in  founding 
this  office  had  some  respect  to  the  state  of  things 
in  the  Jewish  church ;  I  mean  not  only  in  general. 


♦  Phil.  ii.  25 ;  2  Cor.  viii.  23 ;  John  xiii.  16. 


12 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


that  there  should  be  superior  and  subordinate  of- 
ficers, as  there  were  superior  and  inferior  orders 
under  the  Mosaic  dispensation;  but  that  herein 
he  had  an  eye  to  some  usage  and  custom  common 
among  them.  Now,  among  the  Jews,  as  all  mes- 
sengers were  called  apostles ;  so  were  they  wont 
to  despatch  some  with  peculiar  letters  of  authority 
and  commission,  whereby  they  acted  as  proxies  and 
deputies  of  those  that  sent  them  :  thence  their  pro- 
verb "  Every  man's  apostle  is  as  himself;"  that  is, 
whatever  he  does  is  looked  upon  to  be  as  firm  and 
valid  as  if  the  person  himself  had  done  it.  Thus, 
when  Saul  was  sent  by  the  Sanhedrim  to  Damas- 
cus to  apprehend  the  Jewish  converts,  he  was  fur- 
nished with  letters  from  the  high-priest,  enabling 
him  to  act  as  his  commissary  in  that  matter.  In- 
deed Epiphanius  tells  us  of  a  sort  of  persons  called 
apostles,  who  were  assessors  and  counsellors  to 
the  Jewish  patriarch  ;  constantly  attending  upon 
him,  to  advise  him  in  matters  pertaining  to  the 
law ;  and  sent  by  him  (as  he  intimates)  some- 
times to  inspect  and  reform  the  manners  of  the 
priests  and  Jewish  clergy,  and  the  irregularities 
of  country  synagogues,  with  commission  to  gather 
the  tenths  and  first-fruits  due  in  all  the  provinces 
under  his  jurisdiction.  Such  apostles  we  find 
mentioned  both  by  Julian  the  emperor,*  in  an 
epistle  to  the  Jews,  and  in  a  law  of  the  emperor 
Honorious,  employed  by  the  patriarch  to  gather 
once  a  year  the  aurum  coronariiim,  or  crown 
gold,  a  tribute  annually  paid  by  them  to  the  Ro- 
man emperors.  But  these  apostles  could  not, 
under  that  notion,  be  extant  in  our  Saviour's  time ; 
though  sure  we  are  there  was  then  something 
like  it.  Philo  the  Jew,  more  than  once  mention- 
ing the  lEpoTTo/ijrot  Kad'  tKa^ov  cvtavrov  ;!^pu(T0i'  Kt  apyvpov 
irXtij-ov    Koui^ovTc;  ics   to     ttpov,   tov   adpota^cvra    ik  twv 

aitapx^v,  "  The  sacred  messengers  annually  sent  to 
collect  the  holy  treasure  paid  by  way  of  first-fruits, 
and  to  carry  it  to  the  temple  at  Jerusalem." 
However,  our  Lord  in  conformity  to  the  general 
custom  of  those  times,  of  appointing  apostles  or 
messengers,  as  their  proxies  and  deputies  to  act 
in  their  names,  called  and  denominated  those 
apostles,  whom  he  peculiarly  chose  to  represent 
his  person,  to  communicate  his  mind  and  will  to 
the  world,  and  to  act  as  ambassadors  or  commis- 
sioners in  his  room  and  stead. 

4.  Secondly,  we  observe  that  the  persons  thus 
deputed  by  our  Saviour  were  not  left  uncertain, 
but  reduced  to  a  fixed  definite  number,  confined 
to  the  just  number  of  twelve ;  "  he  ordained 
twelve  that  they  should  be  with  him.''t  A  num- 
ber that  seems  to  carry  something  of  mystery 
and  peculiar  design  in  it,  as  appears  in  that  the 
apostles  were  so  careful  upon  the  fall  of  Judas  im- 
mediately to  supply  it.  The  fathers  are  very  wide 
and  different  in  their  conjectures  about  the  reason 
of  it.  St.  Augustinej  thinks  our  Lord  herein  had 
respect  to  the  four  quarters  of  the  world,  which 
were  to  be  called  by  the  preaching  of  the  gospel, 
which  being  multiplied  by  three  (to  denote  the 
Trinity,  in  whose  name  they  were  to  be  called) 
make  twelve.  Tcrtullian  will  have  them  typified 
by  the  twelve  fountains  in  Elim ;  the  apostles 


*  Epist.  25,  p.  153.  t  Mark,  iii.  15. 

t  Serm.  iii.  in  P<alm  103,  Col.  1192,  torn.  viii.  vid. 
in  Psalm  59  Col.  G03. 


being  sent  out  to  water  and  refresh  the  dry, 
thirsty  world  with  the  knowledge  of  the  truth ;  by 
the  twelve  precious  stones  in  Aaron's  breast- plate, 
to  illuminate  the  church,  the  garment  which 
Christ  our  great  high-priest  has  put  on ;  by  the 
twelve  stones  whicli  Joshua  chose  out  of  Jordan, 
to  lay  up  within  the  ark  of  the  testament,  respect- 
ing the  firmness  and  solidity  of  the  apostles'  faith, 
their  being  chosen  by  the  true  Jesus  or  Joshua  at 
their  baptism  in  Jordan,  and  their  being  admitted 
into  the  inner  sanctuary  of  his  covenant.  By 
others  we  are  told,  that  it  was  shadowed  out  by 
the  twelve  spies  taken  out  of  every  tribe,  and 
sent  to  discover  the  land  of  promise  ;  or  by  the 
twelve  gates  of  the  city  in  Ezekial's  vision :  or 
by  the  twelve  bells  appendent  to  Aaron's  gar- 
ment, "  their  sound  going  out  into  all  the  world, 
and  their  words  unto  the  ends  of  the  earth." 
But  it  were  endless,  and  to  very  little  purpose,  to 
reckon  up  all  the  conjectures  of  this  nature,  there 
being  scarce  any  one  number  of  twelve  mention- 
ed in  the  Scripture,  which  is  not  by  some  of  the 
ancients  adapted  and  applied  to  this  of  the  twelve 
apostles,  wherein  an  ordinary  fancy  might  easily 
enough  pick  out  a  mystery.  That  which  seems 
to  put  in  the  most  rational  plea  is,  that  our  Lord, 
being  now  about  to  form  a  new  spiritual  common- 
wealth, a  kind  of  m.ystical  Israel,  pitched  upon  this 
number  in  conformity  either  to  the  twelve  patri- 
archs as  founders  of  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel, 
or  to  the  twelve  ^v^apx^h  or  chief  heads,  as  stand- 
ing rulers  of  those  tribes  among  the  Jews  ;  as  we 
shall  afterwards  possibly  more  particularly  re- 
mark.* Thirdly,  these  apostles  were  immediately 
called  and  sent  by  Christ  himself,  elected  out  of 
the  body  of  his  disciples  and  followers,  and  re- 
ceived their  commission  from  his  own  mouth. 
Indeed,  Matthias  was  not  one  of  the  first  election, 
being  taken  in  upon  Judas's  apostacy,  after  our 
Lord's  ascension  into  heaven.  But  besides  that 
he  had  been  one  of  the  seventy  disciples,  called 
and  sent  out  by  our  Saviour,  that  extraordinary 
declaration  of  the  divine  will  and  pleasure  that 
appeared  in  determining  his  election,  was  in  a 
manner  equivalent  to  the  first  election.  As  for 
St.  Paul,  he  was  not  one  of  the  twelve,  taken  in 
as  a  supernumerary  apostle  ;  but  yet  an  apostle  as 
well  as  they,  and  that  "  not  of  men,  neither  by 
man,  but  by  Jesus  Christ  ;"f  as  he  pleads  his  own 
cause  against  the  insinuations  of  those  impostors 
who  traduced  him  as  an  apostle  only  at  the  second 
hand ;  whereas  he  was  immediately  called  by 
Christ  as  well  as  they,  and  in  a  more  extraordi- 
nary manner  ;  they  were  called  by  him  while  he 
was  yet  in  his  state  of  meanness  and  humiliation ; 
he,  when  Christ  was  now  advanced  upon  the 
throne,  and  appeared  to  him  encircled  with  those 
glorious  emanations  of  brightness  and  majesty 
which  he  was  not  able  to  endure.  I  observe  no 
more  concerning  this,  than  that  an  immediate  call 
has  ever  been  accounted  so  necessary  to  give 
credit  and  reputation  to  their  doctrine,  that  the 
most  notorious  impostors  have  pretended  to  it. 
Thus  Manes  the  founder  of  the  Manichsean  sect, 
was  wont  in  his  epistles  to  style  himself  the 
apostle  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  pretending  himself  to 
be  the  person  whom  our  Lord  had  promised  to 


See  St.  Peter's  Life,  sec.  3,  num.  3.    1  Gal.  i.  1. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


13 


send  into  the  world,  and  that  accordingly  the 
Holy  Ghost  was  actually  sent  in  him ;  and  there- 
fore he  constituted  twelve  disciples  always  to  at- 
tend his  person,  in  imitation  of  the  number  of  the 
apostoUc  college.  And  how  often  the  Turkish 
impostor  does  upon  this  account  call  himself  the 
apostle  of  God,  every  one  that  has  but  once  seen 
the  Alcoran  is  able  to  tell. 

5.  Fourthly,  the  main  work  and  employment  of 
these  apostles  was  to  preach  the  gospel,  to  estab- 
hsh  Christianity,  and  to  govern  the  church  that 
was  to  be  founded,  as  Christ's  immediate  deputies 
and  vicegerents  :  they  were  to  instruct  men  in  the 
doctrines  of  the  gospel,  to  disciple  the  world,  and 
to  baptize  and  initiate  men  into  the  faith  of  Christ ; 
and  to  constitute  and  ordain  guides  and  ministers 
of  religion,  persons  pecuUarly  set  apart  for  holy 
ministrations,  to  censure  and  punish  obstinate  and 
contumacious  offenders,  to  compose  and  overrule 
disorders  and  divisions,  to  command  or  counter- 
mand as  occasion  was,  being  vested  with  an  ex 
traordinary  authority  and  power  of  disposing  things 
for  the  edification  of  the  church.  This  office  the 
apostles  never  exercised  in  its  full  extent  and  lati- 
tude during  Christ's  residence  upon  earth  ;  for 
though  upon  their  election  he  sent  them  forth  to 
preach  and  to  baptize,  yet  this  was  only  a  narrow 
and  temporary  employment,  and  they  quickly  re- 
turned to  th^ir  private  stations  ;  the  main  power 
being  still  executed  and  administered  by  Christ 
himself,  the  complete  exercise  whereof  was  not  ac- 
tually devolved  upon  them  till  he  was  ready  to 
leave  the  world  :  for  then  it  was  that  he  told  them, 
"  As  my  Father  hath  sent  me,  even  so  send  I  you ; 
receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost ;  whose  soever  sins  ye 
remit,  they  are  remitted  ;  and  whose  soever  sins  ye 
retain,  they  are  retained."*  Whereby  he  conferred 
in  some  proportion  the  same  authority  upon  thern 
which  he  himself  had  derived  from  his  Father. 
Fifthly,  this  commission  given  to  the  apostles  was 
unUmited  and  universal,  not  only  in  respect  of 
power,  as  enabling  them  to  discharge  all  acts  of 
religion,  relating-  either  to  ministry  or  government ; 
but  in  respect  of  place,  not  confining  them  to  this 
or  that  particular  province,  but  leaving  them  the 
whole  world  as  their  diocess  to  preach  in,  they  be- 
ing destinati  nalionibus  magislri^  in  TertuUian's 
phrase,  designed  to  be  the  masters  and  instructors 
of  all  nations  :  so  runs  their  commission,  "  Go  ye 
into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature  ;"f  that  is,  to  all  men,  the  rraaa  Knan  of  the 
Evangelist  answering  to  the  QX-^"lDn  737 
amongst  the  Jews,  "  to  all  creatures  ;"  whereby 
they  used  to  denote  all  men  in  general,  but  espe- 
cially the  Gentiles  in  opposition  to  the  Jews.  In- 
deed, while  our  Saviour  lived,  the  apostolical  mi- 
nistry e.xtended  no  farther  than  Judea  ;  but  he  be- 
ing gone  to  heaven,  the  partition  wall  was  broken 
down,  and  their  way  was  open  into  all  places  and 
countries.  And  herein  how  admirably  did  the 
Christian  economy  transcend  the  Jewish  dispensa- 
tion !  The  preaching  of  the  prophets,  lik-e  the 
light  that  comes  in  at  the  window,  was  confined 
only  to  the  house  of  Israel ;  while  the  doctrine  of 
the  gospel  preached  by  the  apostles,  was  like  the 
light  of  the  sun  in  the  firmament,  that  diffused  its 
beams  and  propagated  its  heat  and  influence  into 


John  XX.  21, 22,  23. 


+  Mark  xvi.  15. 


all  quarters  of  the  world  ;  "their  sound  going  out 
mto  all  the  earth,  and  their  words  unto  the  ends  of 
the  world."  It  is  true,  for  the  more  prudent  and 
orderly  management  of  things,  they  are  generally 
said  by  the  ancients  to  have  divided  the  world  into 
so  many  quarters  and  portions,  to  which  they  were 
severally  to  betake  themselves  ;  Peter  to  Pontus, 
Galatia,  Cappadocia,  &c.  ;  St.  John  to  Asia  ;  St. 
Andrew  to  Scythia,  &c.  But  they  did  not  strictly 
tie  themselves  to  those  particular  provinces  that 
were  assigned  them,  but,  as  occasion  was,  made 
excursions  into  other  parts  :  though  for  the  main 
they  had  a  more  peculiar  inspection  over  those 
parts  that  were  allotted  to  them,  usually  residing 
at  some  principal  city  of  the  province  ;  as  St.  John 
at  Ephesus,  St.  Philip  at  Hierapolis,  &c. ;  whence 
they  might  have  a  more  convenient  prospect  of 
affairs  round  about  them  ;  and  hence  it  was  that 
these  places  more  peculiarly  got  the  title  of  apos- 
tolical churches,  because  first  planted,  or  eminently 
watered  and  cultivated  by  some  apostles,  rnatrices 
et  originales  fulei,  as  TertuUian  calls  them  ;  "  mo- 
ther churches  and  the  originals  of  the  faith ;"  be- 
cause here  the  Christian  doctrine  was  first  sown, 
and  hence  planted  and  propagated  to  the  countries 
round  about ;  "  Ecclesias  apud  unamqiiamque  ci- 
vitatem  condiderunt,  a  quibus  traducem  fidei  et  se- 
mina  doclrimt,  ccEterm  exinde  ecclesicc  mutuatcc 
sunt,"  as  his  own  words  are. 

6.  In  pursuance  of  this  general  commission,  we 
find  the  apostles,  not  long  after  our  Lord's  ascen- 
sion,  traversing  almost  all  parts  of  the  then  known 
world  :  St.  Andrew  in  Scythia,  and  those  northern 
countries ;  St.  Thomas  and  Bartholomew  in  In- 
dia ;  St.  Simon  and  St.  Mark  in  Africa,  Egypt, 
and  the  parts  of  Libya  and  Mauritania ;  St.  Paul, 
and  probably  Peter,  and  some  others,  in  the  far- 
thest regions  of  the  west ;  and  all  this  done  in  the 
space  of  less  than  forty  years;  viz.,  before  the  de- 
struction of  the  Jewish  state,  by  Titus  and  the 
Roman  army.  For  so  our  Lord  had  expressly 
foretold,  that  "  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom  should 
be  preached  in  all  the  world,  for  a  witness  unto 
all  nations,  before  the  end  came  ;"*  that  is,  the  end 
of  the  Jewish  state,  which  the  apostles,  a  little  be- 
fore, had  called  "  the  end  of  the  world, "f  (mi-reXeia 
Tov  ati^jvos,  the  shutting  up  or  consummation  of  the 
age,  the  putting  a  final  period  to  that  present 
stato  and  dispensation  that  the  Jews  were  under. 
And  indeed  strange  it  is  to  consider,  that  in  so  few 
years  these  evangelical  messengers  should  over- 
run all  countries  :  with  what  an  incredible  swift- 
ness did  the  Christian  faith,  like  lightning,  pierce 
from  east  to  west,  and  diffuse  itself  over  all  quar- 
ters of  the  world  ;  and  that  not  only  unassisted  by 
any  secular  advantages,  but  in  defiance  of  the 
most  fierce  and  potent  opposition,  which  every 
where  set  itself  against  it !  It  is  true,  the  im- 
postors of  Mahomet  in  a  very  little  time  gained  a 
great  part  of  the  East ;  but  besides  that  this  was 
not  comparable  to  the  universal  spreading  of 
Christianity,  his  doctrine  was  calculated  on  pur- 
pose to  gratify  men's  lusts,  and  especially  to  com- 
ply with  the  loose  and  wanton  manners  of  the  E  ast ; 
aiid,  which  is  above  all,  had  the  sword  to  hew  out 
its  way  before  it ;  and  we  know  how  ready,  even 
without  force,  in  all  changes  and  revolutions  of  the 


Matt.  xxiv.  14. 


t  Ibid,  ver.  3. 


14 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


world,  the  conquered  have  been  to  follow  the  reli- 
gion of  the  conquerors.  Whereas  the  apostles  had 
no  visible  advantages,  nay,  had  all  the  enraged 
powers  of  the  world  to  contend  against  them.  And 
yet,  in  despite  of  all,  went  on  in  triumph,  and 
quickly  made  their  way  into  those  places  where 
for  so  many  ages  no  other  conquest  ever  came  : 
"  Those  parts  of  Britain,"  as  Tertullian  observes, 
"  which  were  unconquerable  and  unapproachable 
by  the  power  of  the  Roman  armies,  submitting 
their  necks  to  the  yoke  of  Christ."  A  mighty  evi- 
dence (as  he  there  argues)  of  Christ's  divinity,  and 
that  he  was  the  true  Messiah.  And,  indeed,  no 
reasonable  account  can  be  given  of  the  strange  and 
successful  progress  of  the  Christian  religion  in 
those  first  ages  of  it,  but  that  it  was  the  birth  of 
heaven,  and  had  a  divine  and  invisible  power  go- 
ing along  with  it  to  succeed  and  prosper  it.  St. 
Chiysostom  discourses  this  argument  at  large, 
some  of  whose  elegant  reasonings  I  shall  here 
transcribe.  He  tells  the  Gentile  (with  whom  he 
was  disputing)  that  he  would  not  prove  Christ's 
Deity  by  a  demonstration  from  heaven,  by  his 
creation  of  the  world,  his  great  and  stupendous 
miracles,  his  raising  the  dead,  curing  the  blind, 
expelling  devils,  nor  from  the  mighty  promises  of 
a  future  state,  and  the  resurrection  of  the  dead, 
(which  an  infidel  might  easily  not  only  question 
but  deny,)  but  from  what  was  sufficiently  evident 
and  obvious  to  the  meanest  idiot, — his  planting 
and  propagating  Christianity  in  the  wor.d.  For 
it  is  not,  says  he,  in  the  power  of  a  mere  man,  in 
60  short  a  time  to  encircle  the  world,  to  compass 
sea  and  land,  and  in  matters  of  so  great  import- 
ance, to  rescue  mankind  from  the  slavery  of  ab- 
surd and  unreasonable  customs,  and  the  powerful 
tyranny  of  evil  habits  ;  and  these  not  Romans 
only,  but  Persians,  and  the  most  barbarous  nations 
of  the  world.  A  reformation  which  he  wrought, 
not  by  force  and  the  power  of  the  sword,  nor  by 
pouring  into  the  world  numerous  legions  and  ar- 
mies ;  but  by  a  few  inconsiderable  men,  (no  more 
at  first  than  eleven,)  a  company  of  obscure  and 
mean,  simple  and  illiterate,  poor  and  helpless,  nak- 
ed and  unarmed  persons,  who  had  scarce  a  shoe  to 
tread  on,  or  a  coat  to  cover  them.  And  yet  by 
these  he  persuaded  so  groat  a  part  of  mankind  to 
be  able  freely  to  reason,  not  only  of  things  of  the 
present,  but  of  a  future  state;  to  renounce  the 
laws  of  their  country,  and  throw  off  those  ancient 
and  inveterate  customs  which  had  taken  root  for 
so  many  ages,  and  planted  others  in  their  room ; 
and  reduced  men  from  those  easy  ways,  whereinto 
they  were  hurried,  into  the  more  rugged  and  diffi- 
cult paths  of  virtue.  All  which  he  did  while  he 
had  to  contend  with  opposite  powers,  and  when  he 
himself  had  undergone  the  most  ignominious 
death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross.  Afterwards 
he  addresses  himself  to  the  Jew,  and  discourses 
with  him  much  after  the  same  rate.  Consider, 
says  he,  and  bethink  thyself,  what  it  is  in  so  short 
a  time  to  fill  the  whole  world  with  so  many  famous 
churches,  to  convert  so  many  nations  to  the  faith, 
to  prevail  with  men  to  forsake  the  religion  of  their 
country,  to  root  up  their  rites  and  customs,  to 
shake  off  the  empire  of  lust  and  pleasure,  nnd  the 
laws  of  vice,  like  dust ;  to  abolish  and  abominate 
their  temples  and  their  altars,  their  idols  and  their 
sacrifices,  their  profane  and  impious  festivals,  as 


dirt  and  dung  ;  and  instead  hereof  to  set  up  Chris- 
tian altars  in  all  places,  among  the  Romans,  Per- 
sians, Scythians,  Moors,  and  Indians :  and  not 
there  only,  but  in  the  countries  beyond  this  world 
of  ours.  For  even  the  British  islands  that  lie  be- 
yond the  ocean,  and  those  that  are  in  it,  have  felt 
the  power  of  the  Christian  faith  ;  churches  and 
altars  being  erected  there  to  tlie  service  of  Christ. 
A  matter  truly  great  and  admirable,  and  which 
would  clearly  have  demonstrated  a  divine  and  su- 
pereminent  power,  although  there  had  been  no 
opposition  in  the  case,  but  that  all  things  had  run 
on  calmly  and  smoothly ;  to  think  that  in  so  few 
years  the  Christian  faith  should  be  able  to  reclaim 
the  whole  world  from  its  vicious  customs,  and  to 
win  them  over  to  other  manners,  more  laborious 
and  difficult,  repugnant  both  to  their  native  incli- 
nations and  to  the  laws  and  principles  of  their  edu- 
cation, and  such  as  obliged  them  to  a  more  strict 
and  accurate  course  of  life  ;  and  these  persons 
not  one  or  two,  not  twenty  or  an  hundred,  but  in 
a  manner  all  mankind  ;  and  this  brought  about  by 
no  other  instruments  than  a  few  rude  and  un- 
learned, private  and  unknown  tradesmen,  who 
had  neither  estate  nor  reputation,  learning  nor  elo- 
quence, kindred  nor  country,  to  recommend  them 
to  the  world ;  a  few  fishermen  and  tent-makers, 
and  whom,  distinguished  by  their  language,  as 
well  as  their  religion,  the  rest  of  the  world  scorned 
as  barbarous.  And  yet  these  were  the  men  by 
whom  our  Lord  built  up  his  church,  and  extended 
it  from  one  end  of  the  world  unto  the  other. 
Other  considerations  there  are,  with  which  the 
father  does  urge  and  illustrate  this  argument, 
which  I  forbear  to  insist  on  in  this  place. 

7.  Sixthly  ;  the  power  and  authority  conveyed 
by  this  commission  to  the  apostles  was  equally  con- 
ferred upon  all  of  them.  They  were  all  chosen  at 
the  same  time,  all  equally  empowered  to  preach 
and  baptize,  all  equally  intrusted  with  the  power 
of  binding  and  loosing,  all  invested  with  the  same 
mission,  and  equally  furnished  with  the  same  gifts 
and  powers  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Indeed  the  advo- 
cates of  the  church  of  Rome  do,  with  a  mighty 
zeal  and  fierceness,  contend  for  St.  Peter's  being 
head  and  prince  of  the  apostles,  advanced  by  Christ 
to  a  supremacy  and  prerogative  not  only  above,  but 
over  the  rest  of  the  apostles  ;  and  not  witliout 
reason,  the  fortunes  of  that  church  being  concerned 
in  the  supremacy  of  St.  Peter.  No  wonder, 
therefore,  they  ransack  all  corners,  press  and  force 
in  whatever  may  but  seem  to  give  countenance  to 
it.  Witness  those  thin  and  miserable  shifts,  which 
Bellarmine  calls  arguments,  to  prove  and  make  it 
good  :  so  utterly  devoid  of  all  rational  conviction, 
so  unable  to  justify  themselves  to  sober  and  consi- 
dering men,  that  a  man  would  think  they  had  been 
contrived  for  no  other  purpose  tlian  to  cheat  fools, 
and  make  wise  men  laugh.  And  the  truth  is, 
nothing  with  me  more  shakes  the  reputation  oi 
the  wisdom  of  that  learned  man,  than  his  making 
use  of  such  weak  and  trifling  arguments  in  so  im- 
portant, and  concerning  an  article,  so  vital  and  es- 
sential to  the  constitution  of  that  church.  Aa 
when  he  argues  Peter's  superiority  from  the  mere 
changing  of  his  name,  (for  what  is  this  to  supre- 
macy ?  besides  that  it  was  not  done  to  him  alone, 
the  same  being  done  to  James  and  John,)  from  his 
being  first  reckoned  up  in  the  catalogue  of  apostles, 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


15 


his  walking  with  Christ  upon  the  water,  his  paying  : 
tribute  for  his  master  and  himself,  his  being  com-  | 
manded  to  let  down  the  net,  and  Christ's  teaching  j 
in  Peter's  ship,  (and  this  ship  must  denote  the  , 
church,  and  Peter's  being  owner  of  it,  entitle  him  ; 
to  be  supreme  ruler  and  governor  of  the  church ;  j 
so  Bellarmine,  in  terms  as  plain  as  he  could  well 
express  it,)  from  Christ's  first  washmg Peter's  feet, 
(though  the  story  recorded  by  the  evangehst  says 
no  such  thing,)  and  his  foretelling  only  his  death  : 
all  which,  and  many  more  prerogatives  of  St.  Peter, 
to  the  number  of  no  less  than  twenty-eight,  are 
Bumraoned  in  to  give  evidence  in  this  cause  ;  and 
many  of  these  too  drawn  out  of  apocryphal  and 
supposititious  authors,  and  not  only  uncertain,  but 
absurd  and  fabulous ;  and  yet  upon  such  argu- 
ments as  these  do  they  found  his  paramount  au- 
thority. A  plain  evidence  of  a  desperate  and  sink- 
ing cause,  when  such  twigs  must  be  laid  hold  on 
to  support  and  keep  it  above  water.  Had  they 
suffered  Peter  to  be  content  with  a  primacy  of 
order,  (which  his  age  and  gravity  seemed  to  chal- 
lenge for  him,)  no  wise  and  peaceable  man  would 
have  denied  it,  as  being  a  thing  ordinarily  prac- 
tised among  equals,  and  necessary  to  the  well 
governing  of  a  society :  but  when  nothing  but  a 
primacy  of  power  will  serve  the  turn,  as  if  the  rest 
of  the  apostles  had  been  inferior  to  him,  this  may 
by  no  means  be  granted,  as  being  expressly  con- 
trary to  the  positive  determination  of  our  Saviour, 
when  the  apostles  were  contending  about  this  very 
thing,  "  Which  of  them  should  be  accounted  the 
greatest  ;"*  he  thus  quickly  decides  the  case : 
"  The  kings  of  the  Gentiles  exercise  lordship  over 
them,  and  they  that  are  great,  exercise  authority 
upon  them.  But  ye  shall  not  be  so :  but  whosoever 
will  be  great  among  you,  let  him  be  your  minister ; 
and  whosoever  will  be  chief  among  you,  let  him  be 
your  servant."!  Than  which  nothing  could  have 
been  more  peremptorily  spoken,  to  rebuke  this 
naughty  spirit  of  pre-eminence.  Nor  do  we  ever 
find  St.  Peter  himself  laying  claim  to  any  such  pow- 
er, or  the  apostles  giving  him  the  least  shadow  of 
it.  In  the  whole  course  of  his  affairs  there  are  no 
intimations  of  this  matter  :  in  his  epistle  he  styles 
himself  but  their  "  fellow  presbyter  ;"  and  express- 
ly forbids  the  governors  of  the  church  to  "lord  it 
over  God's  heritage."  When  despatched  by  the 
rest  of  the  apostles  upon  a  message  to  Samaria, 
he  never  disputes  their  authority  to  do  it :  when 
accused  by  them  for  going  in  unto  the  Gentiles, 
does  he  stand  upon  his  prerogative  1  no,  but  sub- 
missively apologizes  for  himself:  nay,  when  smart- 
ly reproved  by  St.  Paul  at  Antioch,  (when,  if  ever, 
his  credit  lay  at  stake,)  do  we  find  him  excepting 
agamst  it  as  an  affront  to  his  supremacy,  and  a 
saucy  controling  his  superior  ]  Surely  quite  tiie 
contrary  :  ho  quietly  submitted  to  the  reproof,  as 
one  that  was  sensible  how  justly  he  had  deserved 
it.  Nor  can  it  be  supposed  but  that  St.  Paul  would 
have  carried  it  towards  him  with  a  greater  reve- 
rence, had  any  such  peculiar  sovereignty  been 
then  known  to  the  world.  How  confidently  does 
St.  Paul  assert  himself  to  be  no  whit  "inferior  to 
the  chiefest  apostles,"  not  to  Peter  himself?  "the 
gospel  of  the  uncircumcision  being  committed  to 
him,  as  that  of  the  circumcision  was  to  Peter."  Is 


Luke  xxii.  24, 25,  26.    t  Matt.  xx.  25,  26, 27. 
8*  (20) 


Peter  often  named  first  among  the  apostles? — 
elsewhere  others  ;  sometimes  James,  some- 
times Paul  and  Apollos  are  placed  before  him. 
Did  Christ  honor  him  with  some  singular  com- 
mendations ■?  An  honorable  eulogium  conveys  no 
supereminent  power  and  sovereignty.  Was  he 
dear  to  Christ  1  We  know  another  that  was  the 
"  beloved  disciple.''  So  little  warrant  is  there  to 
exalt  one  above  the  rest,  where  Christ  made  all 
alike.  If  from  Scripture  we  descend  to  the  an- 
cient writers  of  the  church,  we  shall  find  that 
though  the  fathers  bestow  very  great  and  honora- 
ble titles  upon  Peter,  yet  they  give  the  same,  or 
what  are  equivalent,  to  others  of  the  apostles. 
Hesychius  styles  St.  James  the  great,  "the  brother 
of  our  Lord,  the  commander  of  the  new  Jerusalem, 
the  prince  of  priests,  the  exarch  (or  chief)  of  the 
apostles,  ev  KC(pa\aii  «opu^t?v,  the  top  (or  crown) 
amongst  the  heads,  the  great  light  amongst  the 
lamps,  the  most  illustrious  and  resplendent  amongst 
the  stars  :  it  was  Peter  that  preached,  but  it  was 
James  that  made  the  determination,"  &c.  Of  St. 
Andrew  he  gives  this  encomium ;  that  "  he  was  the 
sacerdotal  trumpet,  the  first-born  of  the  apostolical 
choir,  7rpairo7ray>/s  Tiji  cKK^rjaiai  ivXoi,  the  prime  and 
firm  pillar  of  the  church,  Peter  before  Peter,  the 
foundation  of  the  foundation,  the  first  fruits  of  the 
beginning."  Peter  and  John  are  said  to  be  laonjiot 
a\\r,\ots,  "  equally  honorable."  by  St.  Cyril,  with 
his  whole  synod  of  Alexandria.  "  St.  John,"  says 
Chrysostom,  "was  Christ's  beloved,  the  pillar  of 
all  the  churches  in  the  world,  who  had  the  keys 
of  heaven,  drank  of  the  Lord's  cup,  was  washed 
with  his  baptism,  and  with  confidence  lay  in  his 
bosom."  And  of  St.  Paul  he  tells  us,  that  "  he 
was  the  most  excellent  of  all  men,  the  teacher  of 
the  world,  the  bridegroom  of  Christ,  the  planter  of 
the  church,  the  wise  master-builder,  greater  than 
the  apostles  ;"  and  much  more  to  the  same  pur- 
pose. Elsewhere  he  says,  that  "  the  care  of  the 
whole  world  was  committed  to  him ;  that  nothing 
could  be  more  noble  or  illustrious  :  yea,  that  (his 
miracles  considered)  he  u'as  more  excellent  than 
kings  themselves."  And  a  little  after  he  calls  him 
"  the  tongue  of  the  earth,  the  light  of  the  churches, 

TO^^t/itXiov  Tru-^i'TCi^'  TOVivXovKi  cipacufia  Trjar  aXrjOciac. 

the  foundation  of  the  faith,  the  pillar  and  ground 
of  truth."  And  in  a  discourse  on  purpose,  wherein 
he  compares  Peter  and  Paul  together,  he  makes 
them  of  equal  esteem  and  virtue ;  "  n  Ucrpov  ixu^ov ; 
r<  St  UavUv  \cov  /  What  greater  than  Peter .'  What 
equal  to  Paul  1  a  blessed  pair  !  i?  -iriaTtvduaa  oXou  row 
Jcnov  rai  ^vxai,  who  had  the  souls  of  the  whole 
world  committed  to  their  charge."  But  instances 
of  this  nature  were  endless  and  infinite.  If  the 
fathers  at  any  time  style  Peter  prince  of  the  apos- 
tles, they  mean  no  more  by  it  than  the  best  and 
purest  Latin  writers  mean  by  princeps ;  the  first 
or  chief  person  of  the  number,  more  considerable 
than  the  rest,  either  for  his  age  or  zeal.  Thus 
Eusebius  tells  us,  "Peter  was  ruv  Aoiffud- aTavruf 
irpoijyopoj,  me  prolocutor  of  all  the  rest,  apcT,,i  eviKa 
for  the  greatness  and  generosity  of  his  mind  :" 
that  is,  in  Chrysostom's  language,  he  was  "  the 
mouth  and  chief  of  the  apostles,  o  Ttavraxov  &cpfio(, 
because  eager  and  forward  at  every  turn,  and  ready 
to  answer  those  questions  which  were  put  to 
others."  In  short,  as  he  had  no  prerogative  above 
the  rest,  besides  his  being  the  chairman  and  pre- 


16 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


sident  of  the  assembly ;  so  was  it  granted  to  him 
upon  no  other  considerations  than  those  of  his 
age,  zeal,  and  gravity,  for  which  he  was  more  emi- 
nent  than  the  rest. 

8.  We  proceed  next  to  inquire  into  the  fitness 
and  qualification  of  the  persons  commissioned  for 
this  employment ;  and  we  shall  find  them  admira- 
bly qualified  to  discharge  it,  if  we  consider  this 
following  account.  First,  they  immediately  receiv- 
ed the  doctrme  of  the  gospel  from  the  mouth  of 
Clirist   himself:  he   intended   them   for  legati  d 
latere,  his  peculiar  ambassadors  to  the  world,  and 
tlierefore  furnished  them  with  instructions  fi-om  his 
own  mouth ;  and  in  order  hereunto  he  trained 
them  up  for  some  years  under  his  ovm  discipline 
and  institution  ;  he  made  them  to  understand  the 
"mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  when  to 
others  it  was  not  given ;"  treated  them  with  the 
affection  of  a  father,  and  the  freedom  and  famili- 
arity of  a  friend.     "  Henceforth  I  call  you  not  ser- 
vants ;  for  the  servant  knoweth  not  what  his  Lord 
doeth :  but  I  have  called  you  friends ;  for  all  things 
that  I  have  heard  of  my  Father  I   have  made 
known  unto  you."*     They  heard  all  his  sermons, 
were  privy  both  to  his  public  and  private  dis- 
courses ;  what  he  preached  abroad  he  expounded 
to  them  at  home  :  he  gradually  instructed  them  in 
the  knowledge  of  divine  things,  and  imparted  to 
them  the  notions  and  mysteries  of  the  gospel,  not 
^11  at  once,  but  as  they  were  able  to  bear  them. 
By  which  means  they  were  sufficiently  capable  of 
giving  a  satisfactory  account  of  that  doctrine  to 
'  others,  which  had  been  so  immediately,  so  frequent- 
ly communicated  to  themselves.     Secondly,  they 
were  InfaDibly  secure  from  error  in  delivering  the 
doctrines  and  principles  of  Christianity :  for  though 
they  were  not  absolutely  privileged  from  failures 
and  miscarriages  in  their  lives,  (these  being  of 
more  personal  and  private  consideration,)  yet  were 
they  infallible  in  iheir  doctrine,  this  being  a  matter 
whereupon  the  salvation  and  eternal  interests  of 
men  did  depend.     And  for  this  end  they  had  the 
"  spirit  of  truth"!  promised  to  them,  who  should 
"  guide  them  into  all  truth."     Under  the  conduct 
of  this  unerring  guide  they  all  steered  the  same 
course,  and  taught  and  spake  the  same  things, 
though  at  different  times,  and  m  distant  places  : 
and  for  what  was  consigned  to  writing,  "  all  Scrip- 
ture was  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  and  the  holy 
men  spake  not  but  as  they  were  moved  by  the 
Holy  Ghost."  Hence   that  exact  and  admirable 
harmony  that  is  in  all  their  writings  and  relations, 
as  being  all  equally  dictated  by  the  same  spirit  of 
truth.     Thirdly,  they  had  been  eye-witnesses  of 
all  the  material  passages  of  our  Saviour's  life,  con 
tinually  conversant  with  him  from  the  commenc 
ing  of  his  public  ministry  till  his  ascension  into  hea- 
ven :  they  had  surveyed  all  his  actions,  seen  all  his 
miracles,  observed  the  whole  method  of  his  con- 
versation, and  some  of  them  attended  him  in  his 
most  private  solitudes  and  retirements.     And  this 
could  not  but  be  a  very  rational  satisfaction  to  the 
minds  of  men,  when  the  publishers  of  the  gospel 
solemnly  declared  to  the  world,  that  they  reported 
nothing  concerning  our  Saviour  but  what  they  had 
seen  with  their  own  eyes,  and  of  the  truth  whereof 


they  were  as  competent  judges  as  the  acutest  phi- 
losopher in  the  world.      Nor  could  there  be  any 
just  reason  to  suspect  that  they  imposed  upon  men 
in  what  they  delivered  ;  for  besides  their  naked 
plainness  and  simplicity  in  aD  other  passages  of 
their  lives,  they  cheerfully  submitted  to  the  most 
exquisite  hardships,  tortures,  and  suffermgs,  merely 
to  attest  the  truth  of  what  they  published  to  the 
world.     Next  to  the  evidence  of  our  own  senses, 
no  testimony  is  more  valid  and  forcible  than  his 
who  relates  what  himself  has  seen.  Upon  this  ac- 
count our  Lord  told  his  apostles,  »  that  they  should 
be  witnesses  to  him  both  in  Judea  and  Samaria, 
and  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth."*     And  so 
necessary  a  quaUfication  of  an  apostle  was  this 
thought  to  be,  that  it  was  almost  the  only  condition 
propounded  in  the  choice  of  a  new  apostle,  after 
the  fall  of  Judas :  "  Wherefore,"  says  Peter,  "  of 
these  men  which  have  companied  with  us  all  the 
time  that  the  Lord  Jesus  went  in  and  out  among  us, 
begimiing  from  the  baptism  of  John,  unto  the  same 
day  that  he  was  taken  up  from  us,  must  one  be 
ordained  to  be  a  witness  with  us  of  his  resurrec- 
tion."! Accordingly  we  find  the  apostles  constantly 
making  use  of  this  argument  as  the  most  rational 
evidence  to  convince  those  whom  they  had  to  deal 
with.     "  We  are  witnesses   of  all  things  which 
Jesus  did,  both  in  the  land  of  the  Jews  and  in  Jerusa- 
lem ;  whom  they  slew  and  hanged  on  a  tree :  him 
God  raised  up  the  third  day,  and  showed  him  open- 
ly, not  to  all  the  people,  but  unto  witnesses  chosen 
before  of  God,  even  to  us,  who  did  eat  and  drink 
with  him  after  he  rose  from  the  dead ;  and  he  com- 
manded us  to  preach  unto  the  people,  and  to  testify 
that  it  is  he  that  is  ordained  of  God  to  be  judge  of 
the  quick  and  dead."^     Thus  St.  John  after  the 
same  way  of  arguing,  appeals  to  sensible  demon- 
stration :  "  That  which  was  from  the  beginning, 
which  we  have  heard,  which  we  have  seen  with  our 
eyes,  which  we  have  looked  upon,  and  our  hands 
have  handled,  of  the  word  of  life :  (for  the  life  was 
manifested,  and  we  have  seen  it,  and  bear  witness, 
and  show  unto  you  that  eternal  fife  which  was  with 
the  Father,  and  was  manifested  unto  us  :)  that 
which  we  have  seen  and  heard  declare  we  unto 
you,  that  ye  also  might  have  fellowship  with  us."|| 
Tliis,  to  name  no  more,  St.  Peter  thought  a  suffi- 
cient vindication  of  the  apostolical  doctrine  from 
the   suspicion  of  forgery  and  imposture  :  "  We 
have  not  followed  cunningly  devised  fables,  when 
we  made  known  unto  you  the  power  and  coming 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but  were  eye-witnesses 
of  his  majesty."^     God  had  frequently  given  tes- 
timony to  the  divinity  of  our  blessed  Saviour,  by 
visible  manifestations  and  appearances  from  hea- 
ven, and  particularly  by  an  audible  voice  :  "  This 
is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased." 
Now  "  this  voice  which  came  from  heaven,"  says 
he,  "  we  heard  when  we  were  with  him  in  the 
holy  mount." 

9.  Fourthly  ;  the  apostles  were  invested  with  a 
power  of  working  miracles,  as  the  readiest  means 
to  procure  their  religion  a  firm  belief  and  enter- 
tainment in  the  minds  of  men.  For  the  miracles 
are  the  great  confirmation  of  the  truth  of  any  doc- 
trine, and  the  most  rational  evidence  of  a  divine 


♦Actsi.8.    t  Acts  i.  21, 22.    $  Acts  x.  39, 40,  &c. 
John  XV.  15.         t  Ibid.  xvi.  13.  II 1  John  i.  1, 2,  3.  §  Peter  i.  16, 17. 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


17 


commission.  For  seeing  God  only  can  create,  and 
control  the  laws  of  nature,  produce  something  out 
of  nothing,  and  call  things  that  are  not  as  if  they 
were,  give  eyes  to  them  that  were  born  blind,  raise 
the  dead,  &c.  things  plainly  beyond  all  possible 
powers  of  nature,  no  man  that  believes  the  wis- 
dom and  goodness  of  an  infinite  being,  can  suppose 
that  this  God  of  truth  should  affix  his  seal  to  a  lie, 
or  communicate  this  power  to  any  that  would 
abuse  it,  to  confirm  and  countenance  delusions 
and  impostures.  Nicodemus's  reasoning  was  very 
plam  and  convictive,  when  lie  concludes  t'lat  Christ 
"  must  needs  be  a  teacher  come  from  God,  for  that 
no  man  could  do  those  miracles  that  he  did,  except 
God  were  with  him"*  The  force  of  which  argu 
ment  lies  here,  that  nothing  but  a  divine  power 
can  work  miracles,  and  that  Almighty  God  cannot 
be  supposed  miracuiously  to  assist  any  but  those, 
whom  he  himself  sends  upon  his  own  errand.  The 
stupid  and  barbarous  Lycaonians,  when  they  be- 
held the  man  who  had  been  a  cripple  from  his 
mother's  womb  cured  by  St.  Paul  in  an  instant, 
only  with  the  speaking  of  a  word,  saw  that  there 
was  something  in  it  more  tlian  human,  and  there- 
fore concluded  that  "  the  Gods  were  come  down 
to  them  in  the  likeness  of  men."f  Upon  this 
account  St.  Paul|  reckons  miracles  among  the 
ra  oriiitia  Tov  airocToXn,  the  signs  and  evidences  of 
an  apostle ;  whom  therefore  Chrysostom  brings 
in  elegantly  pleading  for  himself,  that  though  he 
could  not  show,  as  the  signs  of  his  priesthood  and 
ministry,  long  robes  and  gaudy  vestments,  with 
bells  sounding  at  their  borders,  as  the  Aaronical 
priests  did  of  old ;  though  he  had  no  golden  crowns 
or  holy  mitres,  yet  could  he  produce  what  was  in- 
finitely more  venerable  and  regardable  than  all 
these — unquestionable  signs  and  miracles  :  he 
came  not  v/ith  altars  and  oblations,  with  a  number 
of  strange  and  symbolical  rites  ;  but  what  was 
greater,  raised  the  dead,  cast  out  devils,  cured  the 
blind,  healed  the  lame,  making  the  Gentiles  obe- 
dient by  word  and  deed,  through  many  signs  and 
wonders  wrought  by  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of 
God.  These  were  the  things  that  clearly  showed 
that  their  mission  and  ministry  was  not  from  men, 
nor  taken  up  of  their  own  heads,  but  that  they 
acted  herein  by  a  divine  warrant  and  authority. 
That  tlierefore  it  might  plainly  appear  to  the  world 
that  they  did  not  falsify  in  what  they  said,  or  de- 
liver any  more  than  God  had  given  thenj  in  com- 
mission, he  enabled  them  to  do  strange  and  mira- 
culous operations,  "bearing  them  witness  both 
with  signs  and  wonders,  and  with  divers  miracles 
and  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost. "||  This  was  a  power 
put  into  the  first  draught  of  their  commission, 
when  confined  only  to  the  cities  of  Israel :  "  As 
ye  go,  preach,  saying.  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is 
at  hand.  Heal  the  sick,  cleanse  the  lepers,  raise 
the  dead,  cast  out  devils  :  freely  ye  have  received, 
freely  give. "J  But  more  fully  confirmed  unto 
them  when  our  Lord  went  to  heaven ;  then  he 
told  them  that  "  these  signs  should  follow  them 
that  believe  ;  that  in  his  name  they  should  cast 
out  devils,  and  speak  with  new  tongues ;  that 
they  should  take  up  serpents,  and  if  they  dranli 


*  John  iii.  2. 
1 2  Cor.  xii.  12. 
§  Matt.  X.  7,  8. 


t  Actsxiv.  10,  11. 
H  Heb.  ii.  4. 


any  deadly  thing,  it  should  not  hurt  them  ;  that 
they  should  lay  hands  on  the  sick,  and  they  should 
recover."*  And  the  event  was  accordingly,  "  for 
they  went  forth  and  preached  every  where,  the 
Lord  worketh  with  them,  and  confirming  the  word 
with  signs  following."  When  Paul  and  Barnabas 
came  up  to  the  council  at  Jerusalem,  this  was  one 
of  the  first  things  they  gave  an  account  of,  "  all 
the  multitude  keeping  silence  while  they  declared 
what  miracles  and  wonders  God  had  wrought 
among  the  Gentiles  by  them."f  Thus  the  very 
"  shadow  of  Peter  as  he  passed  by  cured  the  sick :" 
thus  "  God  wrought  special  miracles  by  the  hands 
of  Paul ;  so  that  from  his  body  were  brought  unto 
the  sick,  handkerchiefs  or  aprons,  and  the  diseases 
departed  from  them,  and  the  evil  spirits  went  out 
of  them."|:  So  that,  besides  the  innate  charac- 
ters of  divinity  which  the  Christian  religion  brought 
along  with  it,  containing  nothing  but  what  was 
highly  reasonable,  and  very  becoming  God  to  re- 
veal, it  had  the  highest  external  evidence  that 
any  rehgion  was  capable  of— -the  attestation  of 
great  and  unquestionable  miracles,  done  not  once 
or  twice,  not  privately  and  in  corners,  not  before 
a  few  simple  and  credulous  persons,  but  frequently 
and  at  every  turn,  publicly  and  in  places  of  the 
most  solemn  concourse,  before  the  wisest  and 
most  judicious  inquirers ;  and  this  power  of  mi- 
racles continued  not  only  during  the  apostles'  time, 
but  for  some  ages  after. 

10.  But  because,  besides  miracles  in  general, 
the  Scripture  takes  particular  notice  of  many  gifts 
and  powers  of  the  Holy  Ghost  conferred  upon  the 
apostles  and  first  preachers  of  the  gospel,  it  may 
not  be  amiss  to  consider  some  of  the  chiefest  and 
most  material  of  them,  as  we  find  them  enume- 
rated by  the  apostle  ;||  only  premising  this  obser- 
vation, that  though  these  gifts  were  distinctly  dis- 
tributed  to  persons  of  an  inferior  order,  so  that  one 
had  this,  and  another  that,  yet  were  tijey  (probably) 
all  conferred  upon  the  apostles,  and  doubtless  in 
larger  proportions  than  upon  the  rest.  First,  we 
take  notice  of  the  gift  of  prophecy,  a  clear  evi- 
dence of  divine  inspiration,  and  an  extraordinary 
mission  :  "the  testimony  of  Jesus  is  the  spirit  of 
prophecy."^  It  had  been  for  many  ages  the  sig- 
nal and  honorable  privilege  of  the  Jewish  church ; 
and  that  the  Christian  economy  might  challenge 
as  sacred  regards  from  men,  and  that  it  might  ap- 
pear that  God  had  not  withdrawn  his  Spirit  from 
his  church  in  this  new  state  of  things,  it  was  re- 
vived  under  the  dispensation  of  the  gospel,  accord- 
ing to  that  famous  prophecy  of  Joel,  exactly  ac- 
complished (as  Peter  told  the  Jews)  upon  the  day 
of  pentecost,  when  the  miraculous  gifts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  were  so  plentifully  shed  upon  the  apostles 
and  primitive  Christians :  "  This  is  that  which  was 
spoken  by  the  prophet  Joel :  It  shall  come  to  pass 
in  the  last  days,  (saith  God,)  I  will  pour  out  of  my 
Spirit  upon  aU  flesh,  and  your  sons  and  your 
daughters  sliaU  prophesy,  and  your  young  men 
shall  see  visions,  and  your  old  men  shall  dream 
dreams :  and  on  my  servants  and  on  my  hand- 
maidens I  will  pour  out  in  those  days  of  my  Spirit^ 
and  they  shall  prophesy."ir     It  lay  in  general  m 


*  Mark  xvi.  17—20.        t  Acts  xv.  12. 

t  Acts  xix.  11,  12.  II 1  Cor.  Xii.  9,  10. 

5  Rev.  xix.  10.    T  Joel  ii.  28, 29 ;  Acts  u.  16, 17, 18. 


18 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


revealing  and  making  known  to  others  the  mind  of 
God  ;  but  discovered  itself  in  particular  instances, 
partly  in  foretelling  things  to  come,  and  what 
should  certainly  happen  in  after  times  :  a  thing 
set  beyond  the  reach  of  any  finite  understanding ; 
for  though  such  effects  as  depend  upon  natural 
agents,  or  moral  and  political  causes,  may  be  fore- 
seen by  studious  and  considering  persons  ;  yet  the 
knowledge  of  futurities,  things  purely  contingent, 
that  merely  depend  upon  men's  choice,  and  their 
mutable  and  uncertain  wills,  can  only  fall  under 
his  view  who  at  once  behold  things  past,  present, 
and  to  come.  Now  this  was  conferred  upon  the 
apostles  and  some  of  the  first  Christians,  as  ap- 
pears from  many  instances  in  the  history  of  the 
apostolic  acts  ;  and  we  find  the  apostles'  writings 
frequently  interspersed  with  prophetical  predic- 
tions concerning  the  great  apostacy  from  the  faith, 
the  universal  corruption  and  degeneracy  of  man- 
ners, the  rise  of  particular  heresies,  the  coming  of 
antichrist,  and  several  other  things,  which  the 
Spirit  said  expressly  should  come  to  pass  in  the 
latter  times  :  besides,  that  St.  John's  whole  book 
of  Revelation  is  almost  entirely  made  up  of  pro- 
phecies concerning  the  future  state  and  condition 
of  the  church.  Sometimes  by  his  spirit  of  prophecy 
God  declared  things  that  were  of  present  concern- 
ment to  the  exigencies  of  the  church,  as  when  he 
signified  to  them  that  they  should  set  apart  Paul 
and  Barnabas  for  the  conversion  of  the  Gentiles, 
and  many  times  immediately  designed  particular 
persons  to  be  pastors  and  governors  of  the  church. 
Thus  we  read  of  "  the  gift"  that  was  given  to 
Timothy  "  by  prophecy,  with  the  laying  on  of  the 
hands  of  the  presbytery ;"  that  is,  his  ordination, 
to  which  he  was  particularly  pointed  out  by  some 
proplietic  designation.  But  the  main  use  of  this 
prophetic  gift  in  those  times  was,  to  explain  some 
of  the  more  difficult  and  particular  parts  of  the 
Christian  doctrine,  especially  to  expound  and  ap- 
ply the  ancient  prophecies  concerning  the  Mes- 
siah and  his  kingdom,  in  their  public  assemblies ; 
whence  the  "gift  of  prophecy"*  is  explained  "by 
understanding  all  mysteries  and  all  knowledge ;" 
that  is,  tiie  most  dark  and  difficult  places  of  Scrip- 
ture, the  types  and  figures,  the  ceremonies  and 
prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament.  And  thus  we 
are  commonly  to  understand  those  words,  "  pro- 
phets" and  "prophesying,"  that  so  familiarly  oc- 
cur in  the  New  Testament.  "  Having  gifts  differ- 
ing according  to  the  grace  that  is  given  to  us, 
whether  propliecy,  let  us  propliesy  according  to 
the  proportion  of  faith  ;"f  that  is,  expound  Scrip- 
ture according  to  the  generally  received  principles 
of  faith  and  life.  So  the  apostle  elsewhere,  pre- 
scribing rules  for  the  decent  and  orderly  managing 
of  divine  worship  in  their  public  assemblies  :  "  Let 
the  prophets,"  says  he  «  speak  two  or  three,"  that 
is,  at  the  same  assembly,  "  and  let  the  other  judge ;" 
and  if,  while  any  is  thus  expounding,  another  has 
a  divine  afflatus,  whereby  he  is  more  particularly 
enabled  to  explain  some  difficult  and  emergent 
passage,  "  let  the  first  hold  his  peace  ;  for  ye  may 
all"  that  have  this  gift,  "  prophesy  one  by  one  ;" 
that  so,  thus  orderly  proceeding,  "  all  may  learn, 
and  all  may  be  comforted."^     Nor  can  the  first 


♦  1  Cor.  xiii.  2. 
1 1  Cor,  xiv.  29- 


-31. 


t  Rom.  xii,  6. 


pretend,  that  this  interruption  is  an  unseasonable 
check  to  his  revelation,  seeing  he  may  command 
himself ;  for  though  among  the  Gentiles  the  pro- 
phetic and  ecstatic  impulse  did  so  violently  press 
upon  the  inspired  person  that  he  could  not  govern 
himself,  yet  in  the  church  of  God  "  the  spirits  of 
the  prophets  are  subject  to  the  prophets,"  may  be 
so  ruled  and  restrained  by  them  as  to  make  way 
for  others.  This  order  of  Christian  prophets,  con- 
sidered as  a  distinct  ministry  by  itself,  is  constant- 
ly placed  »iext  to  the  apostolical  office,  and  is  fre- 
quently, by  St.  Paul,  preferred  before  any  other 
spiritual  gifts  then  bestowed  upon  the  church. — 
When  this  spirit  of  prophecy  ceased  in  the  Chris- 
tian  church  we  cannot  certainly  find.  It  continued 
some  competent  time  beyond  the  apostolic  age. 
Justin  Martyr,  expressly  tells  Trypho,  the  Jew, 
"  the  gifts  of  prophecy  are  even  yet  extant  among 
us :"  an  argument,  as  he  there  tells  him,  that 
those  things  which  had  of  old  been  the  great  pri- 
vileges of  their  church,  were  now  translated  into 
the  Christian  church.  And  Eusebius,  speaking 
of  a  revelation  made  to  one  Alcibiades,  who  lived 
about  the  time  of  Irenaeus,  adds,  that  the  divine 
grace  had  not  withdrawn  its  presence  from  the 
church,  but  that  they  still  had  the  Holy  Ghost  as 
their  counsellor  to  direct  them. 

11.  Secondly,  they  had  "the  gift  of  discerning 
spirits,"  whereby  they  were  enabled  to  discover 
the  truth  or  falsehood  of  men's  pretences,  whether 
their  gifts  were  real  or  counterfeit,  and  their  per- 
sons truly  inspired  or  not.  For  many  men,  actu- 
ated only  by  diabolical  impulses,  might  entitle 
themselves  to  divine  inspirations,  and  others  might 
be  imposed  upon  by  their  illusions,  and  mistake 
their  dreams  and  fancies  for  the  Spirit's  dictates 
and  revelations  :  or  might  so  subtilely  and  artifi- 
cially counterfeit  revelations,  that  they  might  with 
most  pass  for  current,  especially  in  those  times 
when  these  supernatural  gifts  were  so  common 
and  ordinary ;  and  our  Lord  himself  had  frequently 
told  them  that  false  prophets  would  arise,  and  that 
many  would  confidently  plead  for  themselves  be- 
fore him,  that  they  had  "  prophesied  in  his  name." 
That  therefore  the  church  might  not  be  imposed 
on,  God  was  pleased  to  endue  the  apostles,  and  it 
may  be  some  others,  with  an  immediate  faculty 
of  discerning  the  chaff'  from  the  wheat,  true  from 
false  prophets ;  nay,  to  know  when  the  true  pro- 
phets delivered  the  revelations  of  the  Spirit,  and 
when  they  expressed  only  their  own  conceptions. 
This  was  a  mighty  privilege,  but  yet  seems  to  me 
to  have  extended  further,  to  judge  of  the  sincerity 
or  hypocrisy  of  men's  hearts  in  the  profession  ot 
religion  ;  that  so  bad  men  being  discovered,  suita- 
ble censures  and  punishments  might  be  passed 
upon  them,  and  others  cautioned  to  avoid  them. 
Thus  Peter,  at  first  sight,  discovered  Ananias  and 
Sappiiira,  and  the  rotten  hypocrisy  of  their  inten- 
tions, before  there  was  any  external  evidence  in 
the  case ;  and  told  Simon  Magus,  though  baptized 
before,  upon  his  embracmg  Christianity,  "  that  his 
heart  was  not  right  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  for  I  per- 
ceive," says  he,  "  that  thou  art  in  the  gall  of  bit- 
terness, and  m  the  bond  of  iniquity."*  Thirdly  ; 
the  apostles  had  the  gift  of  tongues,  furnished 
with  variety  of  utterance,  able  to  speak  on  a  sud- 


♦  Acts  viii.  21—23. 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


19 


den  several  languages  which  they  had  never 
learnt,  as  occasion  was  administered,  and  the  ex- 
igencies of  persons  and  nations,  with  whom  they 
conversed,  did  require.  For  the  apostles  being 
principally  designed  to  convert  the  world,  and  to 
plant  Christianity  in  all  countries  and  nations,  it 
was  absolutely  necessary  that  they  should  be  able 
readily  to  express  their  minds  in  the  languages  of 
those  countries  to  which  they  addressed  them- 
selves ;  seeing  otherwise  it  would  have  been  a 
work  of  time  and  difficulty,  and  not  consistent 
with  the  term  of  the  apostles'  lives,  had  they  been 
first  to  learn  the  different  languages  of  those  na- 
tions before  they  could  have  preached  the  gospel 
to  them.  Hence  this  gift  was  diffused  upon  the 
apostles  in  larger  measure  and  proportion  than 
upon  other  men :  "  I  speak  with  tongues  more 
than  ye  all,"*  says  St.  Paul ;  that  is,  than  all  the 
gifted  persons  in  the  church  of  Corinth.  Our 
Lord  had  told  the  apostles,  before  his  departure 
from  them,  "  that  they  should  be  endued  with 
power  from  on  high ;"  wiiich,  upon  the  day  of 
Pentecost,  was  particularly  made  good  in  this  in- 
stance ;  when  in  a  moment  they  were  enabled  to 
speak  almost  all  the  languages  of  the  then  known 
world,  and  this  as  a  specimen  and  first-fruits  of  the 
rest  of  those  miraculous  powers  that  were  confer- 
red upon  them. 

12.  A  fourth  gift  was  that  of  interpretation,  or 
unfolding  to  others  what  had  been  delivered  in  an 
unknown  tongue.  For  the  Christian  assemblies 
in  those  days  were  fi-equently  made  up  of  men  of 
different  nations,  and  who  could  not  understand 
what  tfae  apostles,  or  others,  had  spoken  to  the 
congregation ;  this  God  supplied  by  this  gift  of 
interpretation,  enabhng  some  to  interpret  what 
others  did  not  understand,  and  to  speak  it  to  them 
in  their  own  native  language.  St.  Paulf  largely 
discourses  the  necessity  of  this  gift,  in  order  to 
the  instructing  and  edifying  of  the  church,  see- 
ing without  it  their  meetings  could  be  no  better 
than  the  assembly  of  Babel  after  the  confusion  of 
languages,  where  one  man  must  needs  be  a  bar- 
barian to  another ;  and  all  the  praying  and  preach- 
ing of  the  minister  of  the  assembly  be  to  many 
altogether  fruitless  and  unprofitable,  and  no  bet- 
ter than  a  speaking  into  the  air.  What  is  the 
speaking,  though  with  the  tongue  of  angels,  to 
them  that  do  not  understand  it  ]  How  can  the 
idiot  and  unlearned  say  amen,  who  understand  not 
the  language  of  him  that  giveth  thanks  1  The 
duty  may  be  done  with  admirable  quaintness  and 
accuracy  ;  but  what  is  he  the  better,  from  whom 
it  is  locked  up  in  an  unknown  tongue  ?  A  consi- 
deration that  made  the  apostle  solemnly  profess, 
that  "  he  had  rather  speak  five  words  in  the  church 
with  his  understanding,  that  by  his  voice  he  might 
teach  others  also,  than  ten  thousand  words  in  an 
unknown  tongue."}:  Therefore  "  if  any  man  speak 
in  an  unknown  tongue,  let  it  be  but  by  two,  or  at 
most  by  three,  and  let  one  interpret"  what  the 
rest  have  spoken  ;  "  but  if  there  be  no  interpre- 
ter," none  present  able  to  do  this,  "  let  him  keep 
sUenco  in  the  church,  and  speak  to  himself  and  to 
God."||  A  man  that  impartially  reads  this  dis- 
course of  the  apostle,  may  wonder  how  the  church 


♦  1  Cor.  xiv.  18. 
1 1  Cor.  xiv.  8. 


+  1  Cor.  xiv. 

II  Ibid.  ver.  27,  28. 


of  Rome,  in  defiance  of  it,  can  so  openly  prac- 
tise, so  confidently  defend  their  Bible  and  divine 
services  in  an  unknown  tongue  ;  so  flatly  repug- 
nant to  the  dictates  of  common  reason,  the  usage 
of  the  first  Christian  church,  and  these  plain 
apostolical  commands.  But  this  is  not  the  only 
instance  wherein  that  church  has  departed  both 
from  Scripture,  reason,  and  the  practice  of  the  first 
and  purest  ages  of  Christianity.  Indeed  there  is 
some  cause  why  they  are  so  zealous  to  keep  both 
Scripture  and  their  divine  worship  in  a  strange 
language  ;  lest  by  reading  the  one  the  people 
should  become  wise  enough  to  discover  the  gross 
errors  and  corruptions  of  the  other.  Fifthly  ;  the 
apostles  had  the  gift  of  healing,  of  curing  diseases 
without  the  arts  of  physic  ;  the  most  inveterate 
distempers  being  equally  removable  by  an  almigh- 
ty power,  and  vanishing  at  their  speaking  of  a 
word.  This  begot  an  extraordinary  veneration 
for  them  and  their  rehgion  among  the  common 
sort  of  men,  who,  as  they  are  strongest  moved 
with  sensible  effects,  so  are  most  taken  with  those 
miracles  that  are  beneficial  to  the  life  of  man. 
Hence  the  infinite  cures  done  in  every  place ; 
God  mercifully  providing  that  the  body  should 
partake  with  the  soul  in  the  advantages  of  the 
gospel,  the  cure  of  the  one  ushering  in,  many 
times,  the  conversion  of  the  other.  This  gift  was 
very  common  in  those  early  days,  bestowed  not 
upon  the  apostles  only,  but  upon  the  ordinary  go- 
vernors of  the  church,  who  were  wont  "  to  lay 
their  hands  upon  the  sick,"  and  sometimes  "  to 
anoint  them  with  oil,"  (a  symbolic  rite  in  use 
among  the  Jews,  to  denote  the  grace  of  God,)  and 
"to  pray  over,"  and  for  "  them  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  ;"*  whereby,  upon  a  hearty  confession 
and  forsaking  of  their  sins,  both  health  and  pardon 
were  at  once  bestowed  upon  them.  How  long  this 
gift,  with  its  appendant  ceremony  of  unction, 
lasted  in  the  church  is  not  easy  to  determine : 
that  it  was  in  use  in  Tertullian's  time,  we  learn 
from  the  instance  he  gives  us  of  Proculus,  a  Chris- 
tian, who  cured  the  emperor  Severus,  by  anointing 
him  with  oil ;  for  which  the  eftiperor  had  him  in 
great  honor,  and  kept  him  with  liim  at  court  aU 
his  life ;  it  afterwards  vanishing  by  degrees,  as  aU 
other  miraculous  powers,  as  Clu-istianity  gained 
firm  footing  in  the  world.  As  for  extreme  unction, 
so  generally  maintained  and  practised  in  the  cliurch 
of  Rome,  and  by  them  made  a  sacrament,  I  doubt 
it  win  receive  very  httle  countenance  from  this 
primitive  usage.  Indeed,  could  they  as  easily  re- 
store sick  men  to  health  as  they  can  anoint  them 
with  oil,  I  think  nobody  would  contradict  them  ; 
but  till  they  can  pretend  to  the  one  I  think  it  un- 
reasonable they  should  use  the  other.  The  best  is, 
though  founding  it  upon  this  apostolical  practice, 
they  have  turned  it  to  a  quite  contrary  purpose  ; 
instead  of  recovering  men  to  life  and  health,  to 
dispose  and  fit  them  for  dying  when  all  hopes  of 
life  are  taken  from  them. 

13.  Sixthly;  the  apostles  were  invested  with 
a  power  of  immediately  inflicting  corporal  punish- 
ments upon  great  and  notorious  sinners  ;  and  this, 
probably,  is  that  which  he  means  by  his  "  opera- 
tions of  powers,"  or  «'  working  miracles  ;"f  which 
surely  cannot  be  meant  of  miracles  in  general. 


*  James,  V.  14, 15  16. 


1 1  Cor.  xii.  10. 


20 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


heins  reckoned  up  amongst  the  particular  gifts  of 
the  Holy  Ghost ;  nor  is  there  any  other  to  which 
it  can  with  equal  probability  refer.  A  power  to 
inflict  diseases  upon  the  body,  as  when  St.  Paul 
struck  Elymas,  the  sorcerer,  with  blindness  ;  and 
sometimes  extending  to  the  loss  of  life  itself,  as  in 
the  sad  instance  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira.  This 
was  the  virga  apostolica,  the  rod  (mentioned  by 
St.  Paul)  which  the  apostles  held  and  shook  over 
scandalous  and  insolent  offenders,  and  sometimes 
laid  upon  them  :  "  What  will  ye  1  shall  I  come  to 
you  with  a  rod,  or  in  love,  and  the  spirit  of  meek- 
ness V*  Where  observe,  says  Chrysostom,  how 
the  apostle  tempers  his  discourse :  the  love  and 
meekness,  and  liis  desire  to  know,  argued  care 
and  kindness ;  but  the  rod  spake  dread  and  terror ; 
a  rod  of  severity  and  punishment,  and  which 
sometimes  mortally  chastised  the  offender.  Else- 
where, he  frequently  gives  intimations  of  this 
power,  when  he  was  to  deal  with  stubborn  and  in- 
corrigible persons  :  "  Having  in  a  readiness  to 
revenge  all  disobedience,  when  your  obedience  is 
fulfilled  ;  for  though  I  should  boast  somewhat 
more  of  our  authority  (which  the  Lord  hath  given 
us  for  edification,  and  not  for  your  destruction)  I 
should  not  be  ashamed  ;  that  I  may  not  seem  as 
if  I  would  terrify  you  by  letters."f  And  he  again 
puts  them  in  mind  of  it  at  the  close  of  his  epistle : 
"  I  told  you  before,  and  foretel  you,  as  if  I  were 
present,  the  second  time  ;  and  being  absent  now 
I  write  to  them  which  heretofore  have  sinned,  and 
to  all  others,  that  if  I  come  again  I  will  not 
spare."}:  But  he  hoped  these  smart  warnings 
would  supersede  all  further  severity  against  them : 
♦'  Therefore  I  write  these  things  being  absent,  lest 
being  present  I  should  use  sharpness,  according  to 
the  power  which  the  Lord  hath  given  me  to  edi- 
fication, and  not  to  destruction. "||  Of  this  nature 
was  the  "delivering  over  persons  unto  Satan  for 
the  destruction  of  the  flesh,"  the  chastising  the 
body  by  some  present  pain  or  sickness,  "  that  the 
spirit  might  be  saved,"^  by  being  brought  to  a 
seasonable  repentance.  Thus  he  dealt  with  Hy- 
raenffius  and  Alexander,  who  had  "made  ship- 
wreck of  faith  and  a  good  conscience ;"  he  de- 
hvercd  them  unto  Satan,  "  that  they  might  learn 
not  to  blaspheme. "IT  Nothing  being  more  usual 
in  those  times,  than  for  persons  excommunicate, 
and  cut  off  from  the  body  of  the  church,  to  be 
presently  arrested  by  Satan,  as  the  common-ser- 
jeant  and  executioner,  and  by  him  either  actually 
possessed,  or  tormented  in  their  bodies  by  some 
diseases  which  he  brought  upon  them.  And  in- 
deed this  severe  discipline  was  no  more  than 
necessary  in  those  times,  when  Christianity  was 
wholly  destitute  of  any  civil  or  coercive  power, 
to  beget  and  keep  up  a  due  reverCi^ce  and 
regard  to  the  sentences  and  determinations  of  the 
church,  and  to  secure  the  laws  of  religion  and 
the  holy  censures  from  being  slighted  by  every 
bold  and  contumacious  offender.  And  this  effect 
we  find  it  had  after  the  dreadful  instance  of  Ana- 
nias and  Sapphira;  "Great  fear  came  upon  all 
the  church,  and  upon  as  many  as  heard  these 


*  1  Cor.  iv.  21.  t  2  Cor.  x.  C,  8, 9. 

t  2  Cor.  xiii.  2.  II  [bid.  ver.  10. 

§  1  Cor.  v.  5,  vid.  Chrysost.etHieron.  in  loc. 
IT  1  Tim.  i.  20. 


things."  To  what  has  been  said  concerning 
these  apostolical  gifts,  let  me  further  observe,  that 
they  had  not  only  these  gifts  residing  in  them- 
selves, but  a  power  to  bestow  them  upon  others ;  so 
that  by  imposition  of  hands,  or  upon  hearing  and 
embracing  the  apostles'  doctrine,  and  being  baptized 
into  the  Christian  faith,  they  could  confer  these 
miraculous  powers  upon  persons  thus  qualified  to 
receive  them,  whereby  they  were  in  a  moment 
enabled  to  speak  divers  languages,  to  prophesy, 
to  interpret,  and  do  other  miracles,  to  the  admira- 
tion and  astonishment  of  aU  that  heard  and  saw 
them.  A  privilege  peculiar  to  the  apostles ;  for 
we  do  not  find  that  any  inferior  order  of  gifted 
persons  were  intrusted  with  it.  And  therefore,  as 
Chrysostom  well  observes,  though  Phihp,  the 
deacon,  wrought  great  miracles  at  Samaria,  to 
the  conversion  of  many ;  yea,  to  the  conviction 
of  Simon  Magus  himself,  "yet  the  Holy  Ghost 
fell  upon  none  of  them,  only  they  were  baptized 
in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus ;"  till  Peter  and 
John  came  down  to  them,  who  having  "prayed 
for  them  that  they  might  receive  the  Holy  Ghost, 
they  laid  their  hands  upon  them,  and  they  received 
the  Holy  Ghost."  Which  when  the  magician 
beheld,  he  offered  the  apostles  money  to  enable 
him,  that  on  whomsoever  he  laid  his  hands,  he 
might  derive  these  miraculous  powers  upon  them. 
14.  Having  seen  how  fitly  furnished  the  apos- 
tles were  for  the  execution  of  their  office,  let  us 
in  the  last  place  inquire  into  its  duration  and  con- 
tinuance. And  here  it  must  be  considered,  that 
in  the  apostolical  office  there  was  something  ex- 
traordinary, and  something  ordinary.  What  was 
extraordinary  was  their  immediate  commission 
derived  from  the  mouth  of  Christ  himself;  their 
unlimited  charge  to  preach  the  gospel  up  and 
down  the  world,  without  being  tied  to  any  parti- 
cular places ;  the  supernatural  and  miraculous 
powers  conferred  upon  them  as  apostles  ;  their 
infallible  guidance  in  delivering  the  doctrines  of 
the  gospel ;  and  these  all  expired  and  determined 
with  their  persons.  The  standing  and  perpetual 
part  of  it,  was  to  teach  and  instruct  the  people  in 
the  duties  and  principles  of  religion,  to  administer 
the  sacraments,  to  constitute  guides  and  officers, 
and  to  exercise  the  discipline  and  government  of 
the  church  ;  and  in  these  they  are  succeeded  by 
the  ordinary  rulers  and  ecclesiastic  guides,  who 
were  to  superintend  and  discharge  the  affairs  and 
offices  of  the  church  to  the  end  of  the  world. 
Whence  it  is  that  bishops  and  governors  came  to 
be  styled  apostles,  as  being  their  successors  in  or- 
dinary ;  for  so  they  frequently  are  in  the  writings 
of  the  church.  Thus  Timothy,  who  was  hi- 
shop  of  Ephesus,  is  called  an  apostle ;  Clemens 
of  Rome,  Clemens  the  apostle  ;  St.  Mark,  bishop 
of  Alexandria,  by  Eusebius,  styled  both  an  apostle 
and  evangelist;  Ignatius,  a  bishop  and  apostle. 
A  title  that  continued  in  after  ages,  especially 
given  to  those  that  were  the  first  planters  or  re- 
storers of  Christianity  in  any  country.  In  the 
Coptic  calendar,  published  by  Mr.  Selden,  the 
seventh  day  of  the  month  Baschnes,  answering 
to  our  second  of  May,  is  dedicated  to  the  memory 
of  St.  Atlianasius  the  apostle.  Acacius  and 
Paulus,  in  tlieir  letter  to  Epiphanius,  style  him 
"a  new  apostle  and  preacher:"  and  Sidonius 
Apollinaris  writing  to  Lupus,  bishop  of  Troyes,  in 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


21 


PVance,  speaks  of  "the  honor  due  to  liis  eminent 
apostleship."  An  observation  which  it  were  easy 
enough  to  confirm  by  abundant  instances,  were  it 
either  doubtful  in  itself  or  necessary  to  my  pur- 
pose ;  but  being  neither,  I  forbear. 


ST.    PETER. 


SECTION  I. 

Of  St.  Peter,  from  his  Birth  till  his  first  coming 
to   Christ. 

The  land  of  Palestine  was,  at  and  before  the 
coming  of  our  blessed  Saviour,  distinguished  into 
three  several  provinces,  Judsea,  Samaria,  and 
Galilee.  This  last  was  divided  into  the  upper"  and 
lower.  In  the  upper,  called  also  Galilee  of  the 
Gentiles,  within  the  division  anciently  belonging 
to  the  tribe  of  Naphthali,  stood  Bethsaida,  former- 
ly an  obscure  and  inconsiderable  village,  till  lately 
re-edified  and  enlarged  by  Philip  the  tetrarch,* 
by  him  advanced  to  the  place  and  title  of  a  city, 
replenished  with  inhabitants,  and  fortified  with 
power  and  strength  ;  and  in  honor  of  Jnha,  the 
daughter  of  Augustus  Csesar,  by  him  styled  Julias. 
Situate  it  was  upon  the  banks  of  the  sea  of  Gali- 
lee, and  had  a  wilderness  on  the  other  side, 
thence  called  the  desert  of  Bethsaida,  whither 
our  Saviour  used  often  to  retire ;  the  privacies 
and  solitudes  of  the  place  advantageously  minis- 
tering to  the  divine  contemplation.  But  Bethsai- 
da was  not  so  remarkable  for  this  adjoining  wil- 
derness as  itself  was  memorable  for  a  worse  sort 
of  barrenness — ingratitude,  and  unprofitableness 
under  the  influences  of  Christ's  sermons  and  mi- 
racles ;  thence  severely  upbraided  by  him,  and 
threatened  with  one  of  his  deepest  woes  :  "  Wo 
unto  thee  Corazin,  wo  unto  thee  Bethsaida,"  &c.t 
A  wo  that  it  seems  stuck  close  to  it ;  for  what 
ever  it  was  at  this  time,  one  who  surveyed  it  in 
the  last  age  tells  us,  that  it  was  shrunk  again  into 
a  very  mean  and  small  village,  consisting  only  of 
a  few  cottages  of  Moors  and  wild  Arabs;  and 
later  travellers  have  since  assured  us,  that  even 
these  are  dwindled  away  into  one  poor  cottage  at 
this  day.  So  fataUy  does  sin  undermine  the 
greatest,  the  goodliest  places ;  so  certainly  does 
God's  word  take  place,  and  not  one  iota  either  of 
his  promises  or  threatenings  falls  to  the  ground. 
Next  to  the  honor  that  was  done  it  by  our  Sa- 
viour's presence,  who  living  most  in  these  parts 
frequently  resorted  hither,  it  had  nothing  greater 
to  recommend  it  to  the  notice  of  posterity,  than 
that  (besides  some  other  of  the  apostles)  it  was 
the  birth-place  of  St.  Peter ;  a  person  how  in- 
considerable soever  in  his  private  fortunes,  yet 
of  great  note  and  eminency  as  one  of  the  prime 
ambassadors  of  the  Son  of  God,  to  whom  both 
sacred  and  ecclesicistical  stories  give,  though  not 
a  superiority,  a  precedency  in  the  college  of  apos- 
tles. 


*  Joseph.  Antiq.  Jud.  lib.  viii.  c.  3,  p.  618 ;  Matt, 
xi.  21. 
tMatt.  xi.  21. 


2.  The  particular  time  of  his  birth  cannot  be 
recovered,  no  probable  footsteps  or  intimations 
being  left  of  it :  in  the  general  we  may  conclude 
him  at  least  ten  years  older  than  his  Master  ;  his 
married  condition  and  settled  course  of  life  at  his 
first  coming  to  Christ,  and  that  authority  and  re- 
spect which  the  gravity  of  his  person  procured 
him  amongst  the  rest  of  tlie  apostles,  can  speak 
him  no  less  ;  but  for  any  thing  more  particular 
and  positive  in  this  matter  I  see  no  reason  to  af- 
firm. Indeed,  might  we  trust  the  account,  which 
one  (who  pretends  to  calculate  his  nativity  with 
ostentation  enough)  has  given  of  it,  we  are  told 
that  he  was  bom  tlu-ee  years  before  the  blessed 
virgin,  and  just  seventeen  before  the  incarnation 
of  our  Saviour.     But  let  us  view  liis  account. 

AN.  AN.  AN. 

KT  ,  Caborbecoiid.)4034(Octav.  August.)  8  f  Herodis  reg.  (20 
•^f'-^adiluvio  >  2373/ a  lo  ejus  consul  >  24  <  ante  b.  virg.  <3 
*"     lU.C.  >    734<a  pugnaAcUac.)12(anteChi.Dat(n 

When  I  met  with  such  a  pompous  train  ot 
epochas,  the  least  I  expected  was  truth  and  cer- 
tainty. This  computation  he  grounds  upon  the 
date  of  St.  Peter's  death,  placed  (as  elsewhere  he 
tells  us)  by  Bellarmine  in  the  eighty-sixth  year  of 
his  age;  so  that  recounting  irom  the  year  of  Christ 
sixty-nine,  when  Peter  is  commonly  said  to  have 
suffered,  he  runs  up  his  age  to  his  birth,  and 
spreads  it  out  into  so  many  several  dates.  But 
alas,  all  is  built  upon  a  sandy  bottom.  For  be- 
sides his  mistake  about  the  year  of  the  world,  few 
of  his  dates  hold  due  correspondence.  But  the 
worst  of  it  is,  that  after  all  this,  Bellarmine  (upon 
whose  single  testimony  all  this  fine  fabric  is  erect- 
ed) says  no  such  thing,  but  only  supposes,  merely 
for  argument's  sake,  that  St.  Peter  might  very 
well  be  eighty-six  (it  is  erroneously  printed  seven- 
ty-six) years  old  at  the  time  of  his  martyrdom. — 
So  far  will  confidence,  or  ignorance,  or  both,  carry 
men  aside;  if  it  could  be  a  mistake,  and  not 
rather  a  bold  imposing  upon  tlie  world.  But  of 
this  enough,  and  perliaps  more  than  it  deserves. 

3.  Being  circumcised  according  to  the  rites  of 
the  Mosaic  law,  the  name  given  him  at  his  cir- 
cumcision was  Simon,  or  Symeon ;  a  name  com- 
mon amongst  the  Jews,  especially  in  their  later 
times.  This  was  afterwards  by  our  Saviour  not 
abolished,  but  additioned  with  the  title  of  Cephas, 
which  in  Syriac  (the  vulgar  language  of  the  Jews 
at  that  time)  signifying  a  stone,  or  rock,  was 
thence  derived  into  the  Greek,  lUrpos  and  by  us, 
Peter :  so  far  was  Hesycliius  out,  when  rendenng 
nerpoihyh  emXvuv,  an  o.xpounder or  interpreter ;  de- 
riving it  from  the  Hebrew  word  which  signifies  to 
explain  and  interpret.  By  this  new  imposition  our 
Lord  seemed  to  denote  the  firmness  and  constancy 
of  his  faith,  and  his  vigorous  activity  in  building  up 
the  church,  as  a  spiritual  house  upon  the  true  rock, 
the  living  and  corner-stone,  chosen  of  God,  and 
precious,  as  St.  Peter  himself  expresses  it.*  Nor 
can  our  Saviour  be  understood  to  have  hereby 
conferred  upon  him  any  peculiar  supremacy  or 
sovereignty  above,  much  less  over  the  rest  of  the 
apostles ;  for  in  respect  of  the  great  trust  commit- 
ted to  tliem,  and  their  being  sent  to  plant  Chris- 
tianity in  the  world,  they  are  all  equally  styled 
foundations.!     Nor  is  it  accountable  either   to 


♦  1  Pet.  ii.  4,  5, 6. 


t  Rev.  rxi.  14. 


22 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES 


Scripture  or  reason  to  suppose  that  by  this  name 
our  Lord  should  design  the  person  of  Peter  to  be 
that  very  rock  upon  which  his  church  was  to  be 
built.  In  a  fond  imitation  of  this  new  name  given 
to  St.  Peter,  those  who  pretend  to  be  his  succes- 
sors in  the  see  of  Rome,  usually  lay  by  their  own, 
and  assume  a  new  name  upon  their  advancement 
to  the  apostolic  chair ;  it  being  one  of  the  first 
questions  which  the  cardinals  put  to  the  new 
elected  pope,  "  by  what  name  he  wiU  please  to  be 
called."  This  custom  first  began  about  the  year 
844,  when  Peter  di  Bocca-porco  (or  Swine's- 
mouth)  being  chosen  pope,  changed  his  name  into 
Sergius  the  second;  probably  not  so  much  to 
avoid  the  uncomeUness  of  his  own  name,  as  if 
unbefitting  the  dignity  of  his  place,  (for  this  being 
but  his  paternal  name,  would  after  have  been  no 
part  of  his  pontifical  style  and  title,)  as  out  of  a 
mighty  reverence  to  St.  Peter,  accounting  himself 
not  worthy  to  bear  his  name,  though  it  was  his 
own  baptismal  name.  Certain  it  is,  that  none  of 
the  bishops  of  that  see  ever  assumed  St.  Peter's 
name ;  and  some  who  have  had  it  as  their  Chris 
tian  name  before,  have  laid  it  aside  upon  their 
election  to  the  papacy.  But  to  return  to  our 
apostle. 

4.  His  father  was  Jonah,  probably  a  fisherman 
of  Bethsaida,  for  the  sacred  story  takes  no  farther 
notice  of  him  than  by  the  bare  mention  of  his 
name ;  and  I  believe  there  had  been  no  great 
danger  of  mistake,  though  Metaphrastes  had  not 
told  us  that  it  was  not  Jonas  the  prophet,  who 
came  out  of  the  belly  of  the  whale.  Brother  he 
was  to  St.  Andrew  the  apostle,  and  some  question 
there  is  amongst  the  ancients,  which  was  the 
elder  brother.  Epiphanius  (probably  from  some 
tradition  current  in  his  time)  clearly  adjudges  it 
to  St.  Andrew,  herein  universally  followed  by  those 
of  the  church  of  Rome,  that  the  precedency  given 
to  St.  Peter  may  not  seem  to  be  put  upon  the 
account  of  his  seniority.  But  to  him  we  may  op- 
pose the  authority  of  St.  Chrysostom,  a  person 
equal  both  in  time  and  credit,  who  expressly  says, 
that  though  Andrew  came  later  into  hfe  than 
Peter,  yet  he  first  brought  him  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  gospel ;  which  Baronius,  against  aU  pre- 
tence of  reason,  would  understand  of  his  entering 
into  eternal  hfe.  Besides,  St.  Jerome,  Cassian, 
Bede,  and  others,  are  for  St.  Peter  being  the  elder 
brother ;  expressly  ascribing  it  to  his  age,  that  he, 
rather  than  any  other,  was  president  of  the  col- 
lege of  apostles.  However  it  was,  it  sounds  not  a 
little  to  the  honor  of  their  father,  (as  of  Zebedee 
also  in  the  like  case,)  that  of  but  twelve  apostles 
two  of  his  sons  were  taken  into  the  number.  In 
his  youth  he  was  brought  up  to  fishing,  which  we 
may  guess  to  have  been  the  staple  trade  of 
Bethsaida,  (which  hence  probably  borrowed  its 
name,  signifying  an  house,  or  habitation  of  fishing, 
though  others  render  it  by  hunting,  the  Hebrew 
word  signifying  either,)  much  advantaged  herein 
by  the  neighborhood  of  the  lake  of  Genesareth, 
(on  whose  banks  it  stood,)  called  also  the  sea  of 
(Jalilee,  and  the  sea  of  Tiberias,  according  to  the 
mode  of  the  Hebrew  language,  wherein  all 
greater  confluences  of  waters  are  called  seas.  Of 
this  lake  the  Jews  have  a  saying,  that  »  of  all  the 
seven  seas  which  God  created,  he  made  choice  of 
none  but  the  sea  of  Goneeareth  :"  which,  however 


intended  by  them,  is  true  only  in  this  respect,  that 
our  blessed  Saviour  made  choice  of  it,  to  honor  it 
with  the  frequency  of  his  presence,  and  the  power 
of  his  miraculous  operations.  In  length  it  was 
an  hundred  furlongs,  and  about  forty  over ;  the 
water  of  it  pure  and  clear,  sweet  and  most  fit  to 
drink ;  stored  it  was  with  several  sorts  of  fish,  and 
those  different  both  in  kind  and  taste  from  those 
in  other  places.  Here  it  was  that  Peter  closely 
followed  the  exercise  of  his  calling ;  from  whence 
it  seems  he  afterwards  removed  to  Capernaum, 
(probably  upon  his  marriage,  at  least  frequently 
resided  there,)  for  there  we  meet  with  his  house, 
and  there  we  find  him  paying  tribute ;  a  house, 
over  which,  Nicephorus  tells  us,  that  Helen,  the 
mother  of  Constantine,  erected  a  beautiful  church 
to  the  honor  of  St.  Peter.  This  place  was  equally 
advantageous  for  the  managery  of  his  trade, — 
standing  upon  the  influx  of  Jordan  into  the  sea  of 
Galilee,  and  where  he  might  as  well  reap  the 
fruits  of  an  honest  and  industrious  diligence.  A 
mean,  I  confess  it  was,  and  a  more  servile  course 
of  Ufe,  as  which,  besides  the  great  pains  and  labor 
it  required,  exposed  him  to  all  the  injuries  of 
wind  and  weather,  to  the  storms  of  the  sea,  the 
darkness  and  tempestuousness  of  the  night,  and 
all  to  make  a  very  small  return.  An  employment 
whose  restless  troubles,  constant  hardships,  fre- 
quent dangers,  and  amazing  horrors,  have  been 
described  by  many  authors.*  But  meanness  is  no 
bar  in  God's  way ;  the  poor,  if  virtuous,  are  as 
dear  to  heaven  as  the  wealthy  and  honorable ; 
equally  aUke  to  him  with  whom  "  there  is  no  re- 
spect of  persons." 

Nay,  our  Lord  seemed  to  cast"  a  peculiar  honor 
upon  this  profession,  when  afterwards  calling  him 
and  some  others  of  the  same  trade  from  catching 
of  fish,  to  be  (as  he  told  them)  "  fishers  of  men." 

5.  And  here  we  may  justly  reflect  upon  the 
wise  and  admirable  methods  of  the  Divme  Provi- 
dence, which  in  planting  and  propagating  the 
Christian  religion  in  the  world,  made  choice  of 
such  mean  and  unlikely  instruments;  that  he 
should  hide  these  things  from  the  wise  and  pru- 
dent, and  reveal  them  unto  babes,  men  that  had 
not  been  educated  in  the  academy  and  the  schools 
of  learning,  but  brought  up  to  a  trade,  to  catch 
fish  and  mend  nets  ;  most  of  the  apostles  being 
taken  from  the  meanest  trades,  and  all  of  them 
(St.  Paul  excepted)  unfurnished  of  all  arts  of 
learning,  and  the  advantages  of  liberal  and  in- 
genuous education  ;  and  yet  these  were  the  men 
that  were  designed  to  run  down  the  world,  and  to 
overturn  the  learning  of  the  prudent.  Certainly, 
had  human  wisdom  been  to  manage  the  busmess, 
it  would  have  taken  quite  other  measures,  and 
chosen  out  the  profoundest  rabbins,  the  acutest 
philosophers,  the  smoothest  orators,  such  as  would 
have  been  most  likely,  by  strength  of  reason  and 
arts  of  rhetoric,  to  have  triumplied  over  the  minds 
of  men,  to  grapple  with  the  stubbornness  of  the 
Jews,  and  baffle  the  finer  notions  and  speculations 
of  the  Greeks.  We  find  that  those  sects  of  phi- 
losophy that  gained  most  credit  in  the  heathen 


♦  See  particularly  Oppian,  'AXitwr.  Bi6\.  a.  non 
longe  ab  init.  The  Emperor  Antoninus  gave  a  piece 
of  gold  for  every  verse  in  the  description  here  re- 
ferred to.— Ed. 


LiVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


23 


world,  did  it  this  way,  by  their  eminency  in  some 
arts  and  sciences,  whereby  they  recommended 
themselves  to  the  acceptance  of  the  wiser  and 
more  ingenious  part  of  mankind.  Julian  tlie 
apostate  thinks  it  a  reasonable  exception  against 
the  Jewish  prophets,  that  they  were  incompetent 
messengers  and  interpreters  of  the  divine  will, 
because  they  had  not  their  minds  cleared  and 
purged,  by  passing  through  tlie  circle  of  polite  arts 
and  learning.  Why,  now  this  is  the  wonder  of  it, 
that  the  first  preachers  of  the  gospel  should  be 
such  rude,  unlearned  men,  and  yet  so  suddenly, 
so  powerfully  prevail  over  the  learned  world,  and 
conquer  so  many  who  had  the  greatest  parts  and 
abilities,  and  the  strongest  prejudices  against  it, 
by  tlie  simplicity  of  the  gospel.  When  Celsus 
objected,  that  the  apostles  were  but  a  company  of 
mean  and  illiterate  persons,  sorry  mariners  and 
fishermen,  Origen  quickly  returns  upon  him  with 
this  answer  :  "  That  hence  it  was  plainly  evident, 
that  they  taught  Christianity  by  a  divine  power, 
when  such  persons  were  able  with  such  an  un- 
controlled success  to  subdue  men  to  the  obedience 
of  his  word ;  for  that  they  had  no  eloquent 
tongues,  no  subtile  and  discursive  head,  none  of 
the  refined  and  rhetorical  arts  of  Greece,  to  con- 
quer the  minds  of  men.  For  my  part,"  says  he, 
in  another  place, — "  I  verily  believe  that  the  holy 
Jesas  purposely  made  use  of  such  preachers  of 
his  doctrine,  that  there  might  be  no  suspicion  that 
they  came  instructed  with  arts  of  sophistry,  but 
that  it  might  be  clearly  manifest  to  all  the  world 
that  there  was  no  crafty  design  in  it,  and  that  they 
had  a  divine  power  going  along  with  them,  which 
was  more  efficacious  than  the  greatest  volubility 
of  e.xpression,  or  ornaments  of  speech,  or  the  arti- 
fices whicii  were  used  in  the  Grecian  composi- 
tions. Had  it  not  been  for  this  divine  power  that 
upheld  it,"  as  he  elsewhere  argues, — "the  Chris- 
tian religion  must  needs  have  sunk  under  those 
weighty  pressures  that  lay  upon  it,  having  not 
only  to  contend  with  the  potent  opposition  of  the 
senate,  emperors,  people,  and  the  whole  power  of 
tlio  Roman  empire,  but  to  conflict  with  those 
home-bred  wants  and  necessities  wherewith  its 
own  professors  were  oppressed  andburthened." 

6.  It  could  not  but  greatly  vindicate  the  apostles 
from  ail  suspicion  of  forgery  and  imposture,  in  the 
thoughts  of  sober  and  unbiassed  persons,  to  see 
their  doctrine  readily  entertained  by  men  of  the 
most  discerning  and  inquisitive  minds.  Had  they 
dealt  only  with  the  rude  and  the  simple,  the  idiot 
and  the  unlearned,  there  might  have  been  some 
pretence  to  suspect  that  they  lay  in  wait  to  de- 
ceive, and  designed  to  impose  upon  the  world  by 
crafty  and  insinuative  arts  and  metliods.  But, 
alas,  they  had  other  persons  to  deal  with,  men  of 
the  acutest  wits  and  most  profound  abilities,  the 
wisest  philosophers  and  most  subtile  disputants, 
able  to  weigh  an  argument  with  the  greatest  accu- 
racy, and  to  decline  the  force  of  the  strongest  rea- 
sonings ;  and  who  had  their  parts  edged  with  the 
keenest  prejudices  of  education,  and  a  mighty 
veneration  for  the  religion  of  their  country  ;  a  reh- 
gion  that  for  so  many  ages  had  governed  the  world, 
and  taken  firm  possession  of  the  minds  of  men. 
And  yet,  notwithstanding  all  these  disadvantages, 
these  plain  men  conquered  the  wise  and  the  learn- 
ed, and  brought  them  over  to  that  doctrine  that 
85  ^20) 


was  despised  and  scorned,  opposed  and  persecuted, 
and  that  had  nothing  but  its  own  native  excellency 
to  recommend  it.  A  clear  evidence  tli  it  there 
was  something  in  it  beyond  the  craft  and  power 
of  men.  "  Is  not  this,"  says  an  elegant  a|jologist, 
making  his  address  to  the  heathens,  "  enough  to 
make  you  believe  and  entertain  it,  to  coii.-ider  that 
in  so  short  a  time  it  has  diffused  itself  over  the 
whole  world,  civilized  the  most  barbarous  nations, 
softened  the  roughest  and  most  intractable  tem- 
pers ;  that  the  greatest  wits  and  scholars,  orators, 
grammarians,  rhetoricians,  lawyers,  physicians, 
and  philosophers  have  quitted  their  formerly  dear 
and  beloved  sentiments,  and  heartily  embraced  the 
precepts  and  doctrines  of  the  gospel  V  Upon  this 
account,  Theodoret*  does  with  no  less  truth  than 
elegancjr,  insult  and  triumph  over  the  heathens. 
He  tells  them,  that  whoever  would  bo;  at  the  pains 
to  compare  the  best  law  makers,  either  amongst 
the  Greeks  or  Romans,  with  our  fi.shermen  and 
publicans,  would  soon  perceive  what  a  divine 
virtue  and  efficacy  there  was  in  them  above  all 
others,  whereby  they  did  not  only  conquer  their 
neighbors,  not  only  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  but 
brought  over  the  most  barbarous  nations  to  a  com- 
pliance with  the  law  of  the  gospel ;  and  that  not 
by  force  of  arms,  not  by  numerous  bands  of  sol- 
diers, not  by  methods  of  torture  and  cruelty,  but 
by  meek  persuasives,  and  a  convincing  the  world 
of  the  excellency  and  usefulness  of  those  laws 
which  they  propounded  to  them.  A  thing  which 
the  wisest  and  best  men  of  the  heathen  world 
could  never  do,  to  make  their  dogmata  and  insti- 
tutions universally  obtain  ;  nay,  that  Plato  himself 
could  never,  by  all  his  plausible  and  insinuative 
art>-,  make  his  laws  to  be  entertained  by  his  6wn 
dear  Athenians.  He  further  shows  them,  that 
the  laws  published  by  our  fishermen  and  tent- 
makers,  could  never  be  abohshed  (like  those  made 
by  the  best  amongst  them)  by  the  pohcies  of  Caius, 
the  power  of  Claudius,  the  crueUies  of  Nero,  or 
any  of  the  succeeding  emperors  ;  but  still  they 
went  on  conquermg  and  to  conquer,  and  made 
millions  both  of  men  and  women  willing  to  embrace 
flames,  and  to  encounter  death  in  its  most  horrid 
shapes,  rather  than  disown  and  forsake  them  ; 
whereof  he  calls  to  witness  those  many  churches 
and  monuments  every  where  erected  to  the  me- 
mory of  Christian  martyrs,  no  less  to  the  honor 
than  advantage  of  those  cities  and  countries,  and 
in  some  sense  to  all  mankind. 

7.  The  sum  of  the  discourse  is,  in  the  apostle's 
words,  that  "God  chose  the  foolish  things  of  the 
world  to  confound  the  wise,  the  weak  to  confound 
those  that  are  mighty,  the  base  things  of  the  world, 
things  most  vilified  and  despised,  yea,  and  things 
which  are  not,  to  bring  to  nought  things  that  are,"t 
These  were  the  things,  these  the  persons  whom 
God  sent  upon  this  errand,  to  silence  "  the  wise, 

*  Theodoret,  who  was  one  of  the  earliest  and  most 
learned  historians  of  the  church,  lived  in  the  former 
part  of  the  fifth  century.  His  commentaries  on  va- 
rious parts  of  Scripture  display  great  knowledge  and 
piety  ;  but  he  suffered  much  from  the  factious  spirit 
of  his' age :  and  in  the  disputes  respecting  Nestorius, 
was  threatened  with  the  loss  of  the  episcopal  rank, 
to  which  he  had  been  justly  elevated  for  his  virtues. 
—Ed. 

t  1  Cor.  i.  27,  28. 


24 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


the  scribe,  and  the  disputer  of  this  world,  and  to 
make  foolish  the  wisdom  of  this  world."  For 
thouj!:h  "  the  Jews  required  a  sign,  and  the  Greeks 
sought  after  wisdom,  thoiigli  the  preaching  a  cru- 
cified Saviour  was  a  scandal  to  the  Jews,  and 
foohshncss  to  the"  learned  "  Grecians  ;"  yet,  "  by 
this  foolishness  of  preaching,  God  was  pleased  to 
save  them  that  beheved ;"  and  in  the  event  made 
it  appear,  that  "  the  foolishness  of  God  is  wiser 
than  men,  and  the  weakness  of  God  stronger  than 
men."*  That  so  the  honor  of  all  might  entirely 
redound  to  himself ;  so  the  apostle  concludes, 
"  that  no  flesh  should  glory  in  his  presence,  but 
that  he  that  glorieth,  should  glory  in  the  Lord." 


SECTION  II. 

Of  Si.  Peter,  from  his  first  coming  to  Christ  till 
his  being  called  to  be  a  Disciple. 

Though  we  find  not  whether  Peter,  before  his 
coming  to  Christ,  was  engaged  in  any  of  the  par- 
ticular sects  at  this  time  in  the  Jewish  church, 
yet  is  it  greatly  probable  that  he  was  one  of  the 
disciples  to  John  the  Baptist.  For  first,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  his  brother  Andrew  was  so ;  and  we 
can  hardly  think  these  two  brothers  should  draw 
contrary  ways,  or  that  he  who  was  so  ready  to 
bring  his  brother  tiie  early  tidings  of  the  Messiah, 
that  the  "sun  of  righteousness"  was  already  risen 
in  those  parts,  should  not  be  as  solicitious  to  bring 
him  under  the  discipline  and  influences  of  John 
the  Baptist,  the  "day-star"  that  went  before  him. 
Secondly  ;  Peter's  forwardness  and  curiosity  at 
the  first  news  of  Christ's  appearing,  to  come  to 
him  and  converse  with  him,  show  tliat  his  expecta- 
tions had  been  awakened,  and  some  light  in  this 
matter  conveyed  to  him  by  tlie  preaching  and  mi- 
nistry of  John,  who  was  "  the  voice  of  one  crying 
in  the  wilderness.  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord, 
make  his  paths  straight ;"  showingthem  who  it 
was  that  was  coming  after  him 

2.  His  first  acquaintance  with  Christ  com- 
menced in  this  manner.  The  blessed  Jesus  hav- 
ing for  thirty  years  passed  through  the  solitudes 
of  a  private  life,  had  lately  been  baptized  in  Jor- 
dan, and  there  publicly  owned  to  be  the  Sou  of 
God,  by  the  most  solemn  attestations  that  heaven 
could  give  him  ;  whereupon  he  was  immediately 
hurried  into  the  wilderness,  to  a  personal  contest 
with  tlie  devil  for  forty  days  together.  So  natural 
is  it  to  the  enemy  of  mankind  to  malign  our  hap- 
piness, and  to  seek  to  blast  our  joys,  when  we  are 
under  the  highest  instances  of  the  divine  grace 
and  favor.  His  enemy  being  conquered  in  three 
set  battles,  and  fled,  he  returned  hence,  and  came 
down  to  Bothabara,  beyond  Jordan,  where  John 
was  baptizing  his  proselytes,  and  endeavoring  to 
satisfy  the  Jews,  who  had  sent  to  him  curiously  to 
inquire  concerning  this  new  Messiah  that  appear- 
ed among  them.  Upon  the  great  testimony  which 
the  Baptist  gave  him,  and  his  pointing  to  our 
Lord  then  passing  by  him,  two  of  John's  disciples,! 
who  were  then  with  him,  presently  followed  after 
Christ,  one  of  which  was  Andrew,  Simon's  brother. 


1  Cor.  i.  20—25. 


tJohni.  37. 


It  was  towards  evening  when  they  came,  and 
therefore  probably  they  staid  with  him  all  night, 
during  which  Andrew  had  opportunity  to  inform 
himself,  and  to  satisfy  his  most  scrupulous  inqui- 
ries. Early  the  next  morning,  (if  not  that  very 
evening,)  he  hastened  to  acquaint  his  brother  Si- 
mon with  these  glad  tidings.  It  is  not  enough  to 
be  good  and  happy  alone  ;  religion  is  a  communi- 
cative principle,  that,  like  the  circles  in  the  water, 
delights  to  multiply  itself,  and  to  diffuse  its  influ- 
ences round  about  it,  and  especially  upon  those 
whom  nature  had  placed  nearest  to  us.  He  tells 
him,  they  had  found  the  long-looked  for  Messiah, 
him  whom  Moses  and  the  prophets  had  so  signally 
foretold,  and  whom  all  the  devout  and  pious  of 
that  nation  had  so  long  expected. 

3.  Simon,  (one  of  those  who  "  looked  for  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  waited  for  the  redemption 
of  Israel,")  ravished  with  his  joyful  news,  and  im- 
patient of  delay,  presently  follows  his  brother  to 
the  place ;  whither  he  was  no  sooner  come  but 
our  Lord,  to  give  him  an  evidence  of  his  Divinity, 
salutes  him  at  first  sight  by  name,  tells  him  what 
and  who  he  was,  both  as  to  his  name  and  kindred, 
what  title  should  be  given  him,  that  he  should  be 
called  Cephas,  or  Peter  ;  a  name  which  he  after- 
wards actually  conferred  upon  him.'*  What  pass- 
ed further  between  them,  and  whether  these  two 
brothers  henceforward  personally  attended  our 
Saviour's  motions  in  the  number  of  his  disciples, 
the  sacred  story  leaves  us  in  the  dark.  It  seems 
probable  that  they  had  staid  with  him  for  some 
time,  till  they  were  instructed  in  the  first  rudi- 
ments of  liis  doctrine,  and  by  his  leave  departed 
home.  For  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose,  that  our 
Lord  being  unwilling,  at  this  time  especially,  to 
awaken  the  jealousies  of  the  state  by  a  numerous 
retinue,  might  dismiss  his  disciples  for  some  time, 
and  Peter  and  Andrew  amongst  the  rest ;  who 
hereupon  returned  home  to  the  exercise  of  theii" 
calling,  where  he  found  them  afterwards. 

4.  It  was  now  somewhat  more  than  a  year 
since  our  Lord,  having  entered  upon  the  public 
stage  of  action,  constantly  "  went  about  doing- 
good,  healing  the  sick,  and  preaching  the  gospel 
of  the  kingdom  ;t  residing  usually  at  Capernaum, 
and  the  parts  about  it,  where,  by  the  constancy 
of  his  preaching,  and  the  reputation  of  his  mira- 
cles, his  fame  spread  about  all  those  countries  ;  by 
means  whereof  multitudes  oi  people  from  all  parts 
flocked  to  him,  greedily  desirous  to  become  his 
auditors.  And  what  wonder,  if  the  parched  and 
barren  earth  thirsted  for  the  showers  of  heaven  1 
It  happened  that  our  Lord  retiring  out  of  the  city, 
to  enjoy  the  privacies  of  contemplation  upon  the 
banks  of  the  sea  of  Galilee,  it  was  not  long  before 
the  multitude  found  him  out ;  to  avoid  the  crowd 
and  press  whereof  he  stept  into  a  ship,!  or  fisher- 
boat,  that  lay  near  to  the  shore,  which  belonged 
to  Peter  (who,  together  with  his  companions,  after 
a  tedious  and  unsuccessful  night,  were  gone 
ashore  to  wash  and  dry  their  nets.)  He  Who 
might  have  commanded,  was  yet  pleased  to  en- 
treat Peter  (who  by  tliis  time  was  returned  into 
his  ship)  to  put  a  little  from  the  shore.  Here 
being  sat,  he  taught  the  people,  who  stood  along 


*  John  i.  42. 
t  Luke  V.  1. 


+  Matt.  iv.  23. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


26 


upon  the  shore  to  hear  him.  Sermon  ended,  he 
resolved  to  seal  up  his  doctrine  with  a  miracle, 
that  the  people  might  be  the  more  effectually  con- 
vinced that  "  he  was  a  teacher  come  from  God." 
To  this  purpose,  he  bade  Simon  Ip.uncli  out 
further,  and  cast  his  net  into  the  sea  :  Simon  tells 
him  they  had  done  it  already,  that  they  had  been 
fishing  all  the  last  night,  but  in  vain  ;  and  if  they 
could  not  succeed  then  (the  most  proper  season 
for  that  employment)  there  was  less  hope  to  speed 
now,  it  being  probably  about  noon.  But  because 
where  God  commands  it  is  not  for  any  to  argue, 
but  obey,  at  our  Lord's  instance  he  let  down  the 
net,  vvhicii  immediately  enclosed  so  great  a  multi- 
tude of  fishes  that  the  net  began  to  break,  and 
tiiey  were  forced  to  call  to  their  partners,  who 
were  in  a  ship  hard  by  them,  to  come  to  their  as- 
sistance. A  draught  so  great  that  it  loaded  both 
their  boats,  and  that  so  full  that  it  endangered 
their  sinking  before  they  could  get  safe  to  shore  : 
an  instance  wherein  our  Saviour  gave  an  ocular 
demonstration  that,  as  Messiah,  God  had  "  put 
all  things  under  his  feet,  not  only  fowls  of  the  air, 
but  the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  whatsoever  passeth 
through  the  paths  of  the  sea."* 

5.  Amazed  they  were  all  at  this  miraculous 
<iraught  of  fishes  ;  whereupon  Simon,  in  an  ec- 
stacy  of  admiration,  and  a  mLsture  of  humility 
and  fear,  threw  himself  at  the  feet  of  Christ,  and 
prayed  him  to  depart  from  him,  as  a  vile  and  sin- 
ful person.  So  evident  were  the  appearances  of 
Divinity  in  this  miracle,  that  he  was  overpowered 
and  dazzled  with  its  brightness  and  lusture,  and 
reflecting  upon  himself,  could  not  but  think  him- 
self unworthy  the  presence  of  so  great  a  person, 
so  immediately  sent  from  God;  and  considering 
his  own  state,  (conscience  being  hereby  more 
sensibly  awakened,)  was  afraid  that  the  divine 
vengeance  might  pursue  and  overtake  him.  But 
our  Lord,  to  abate  the  edge  of  his  fears,  assures 
him  that  this  miracle  was  not  done  to  amaze  and 
terrify  him,  but  to  strengthen  and  confirm  his 
faith  ;  that  now  he  had  nobler  work  and  employ- 
ment for  him  ;  instead  of  catching  fish,  he  should, 
by  persuading  men  to  the  obedience  of  the  gos- 
pel, catch  the  souls  of  men  :  and  accordingly  he 
commanded  him  and  his  brother  to  follow  him  ; 
(the  same  command  which  presently  after  he  gave 
to  the  two  sons  of  Zebedee.)  The  word  was  no 
sooner  spoken,  and  they  landed,  but  disposing  their 
concerns  in  the  hands  of  friends,  (as  we  may  pre- 
sume prudent  and  reasonable  men  would.)  they 
immediately  left  all,  and  followed  him  ;  and  from 
this  time  Peter  and  the  rest  became  his  constant 
and  inseparable  disciples,  living  under  the  rules  of 
his  discipline  and  institutions. 

6.  From  hence  they  returned  to  Capernaum, 
where  our  Lord,  entering  into  Simon's  house,  (the 
place  in  all  likehhood  where  he  was  wont  to  lodge 
during  his  residence  in  that  city)  found  his  mother- 
in-law  visited  with  a  violent  fever.f  No  privi- 
leges afford  an  exemption  from  the  ordinary  laws 
of  human  nature  ;  Christ,  under  her  roof,  did  not 
protect  this  woman  from  the  assaults  and  inva- 
oions  of  a  fever.     "  Lord,  behold  he  whom  thou 


;  lovest  is  sick,"*  as  they  said  concerning  Lazarus. 
Here  a  fresh  opportunity  offered  itself  to  Christ 
of  e.xerting  his  divine  power.  No  sooner  was  he 
;  told  of  it  but  lie  came  to  her  bed-side,  rebuked 
the  paroxysm,  commanded  the  fever  to  be  gone, 
I  and  taking  her  by  the  hand  to  lift  her  up,  in  a 
!  moment  restored  her  to  perfect  health  and  ability 
I  to  return  to  the  business  of  her  family  ;  all  cure's 
I  being  equally  easy  to  Omnipotence. 


*  Psalm  viii.  6,  7, 8. 

•f  Matt.  viii.  14;  Mark  i.  29;  Lukeiv. ; 


'  SECTION  III. 

I 

I  Of  St.  Peter,  from  his  election  to  the  Aposiolate 
j        till  the  confession  which  he  made  of  Christ. 

!  Our  Lord  being  now  to  elect  some  peculiar  per- 
j  sons  as  his  immediate  vicegerents  upon  earth,  to 
!  whose  care  and  trust  he  miglit  connnit  the  l)uild- 
I  mg  up  of  his  church,  and  the  planting  that  reli- 
gion in  the  world  for  which  he  himself  came  down 
from  heaven  ;  in  order  to  it,  he  privately,  over 
niixht,  withdrew  himself  into  a  solitary  mountain,! 
(commonly  called  the  mount  of  Christ,  from  his 
frequent  repairing  thither;  though  some  of  the 
ancients  will  have  it  to  be  mount  Tabor,)  there 
to  make  his  solemn  address  to  heaven  for  a  pros- 
perous success  on  so  great  a  work,  lierehi 
leaving  an  excellent  copy  and  precedent  i)  the 
governors  of  his  church,  how  to  proceed  in  ^L-tting 
apart  persons  to  so  weighty  and  difficult  an  employ- 
ment. Upon  this  mountain  we  may  conceive 
there  was  an  oratory,  or  place  of  prayer,  (proba- 
bly intimated  by  St.  Luke's  >;  Trpoccvxi,  for  such 
proseuchas,  or  houses  of  prayer,  usually  uncover- 
ed aad  standing  in  the  fields,  the  Jews  had  in 
several  places,)  wherein  our  Lord  continued  all 
night,  not  in  one  continued  and  entire  act  of  de- 
votion, but  probably  by  intervals  and  repeated 
returns  of  duty. 

2.  Early  the  next  morning  his  disciples  came 
to  him,  out  of  whom  he  made  choice  of  twelve  to 
be  his  apostles,f  that  they  might  be  the  constant 
attendants  upon  his  person,  to  hear  his  discourses, 
and  bo  eye-witnesses  of  his  miracles ;  to  be  al- 
ways  conversant  with  him  while  he  was  upon 
earth,  and  afterwards  to  be  sent  abroad,  up  and 
down  the  world,  to  carry  on  that  work  v.hich  he 
himself  had  begun  ;  whom,  therefore,  he  invested 
with  the  power  of  working  miracles,  which  was 
more  completely  conferred  upon  thenr  after  his  as- 
cension into  heaven.  Passing  by  the  several 
fancies  and  conjectures  of  the  ancients,  why  our 
Saviour  pitched  upon  the  just  number  of  twelve, 
(whereof  before,)  it  may  deserve  to  be  considered 
whether  our  Lord,  being  now  to  appoint  the  su- 
preme officers  and  governors  of  his  church,  which 
the  apostle  styles  the  "commonwealth  of  Israel,"|| 
might  not  herein  have  a  more  peculiar  iiJlusion  to 
the  twelve  patriarchs,  as  founders  of  the  several 
tribes  ;  or  to  the  constant  Jieads  and  rulers  of 
those  twelve  tribes,  of  which  the  body  of  the 
Jewish  nation  did  consist :  especially  since  he 
himself  seems  elsewhere  to  give  countenance  to 

♦  Johnxi.  3.  t  Luke  vi.  1-2. 

t  Malt.  X.  1 ;  Mark  iii.  14  ;  Luke  vi.  13. 
II  Ephes.  ii.  12. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


2G __^ 

i7  vvlion  he  teUs  the  apostles  that  «  when  the  Son  1 
of  M<m  shall  sit  on  the  throne  of  Ins  glory,  that 
i«  bo  crone  back  to  heaven,  and  have  taken  f u  1 
po^^ession  of  his  evangelical  kingdom,  which 
principally  commenced  from  his  resurrection,  that 
then  "  they  also  should  sit  upon  twelve  thrones, 
iud"ing  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel;"*  that  is, 
thev  should  have  great  power  and  authority  m  the 
church,  such  as  the  power  of  'he  keys,  and  other 
rights  of  spiritual  judicature  and  sovereignty, 
answerable  in  some  proportion  to  the  power  and 
dignity  which  the  heads  and  rulers  of  the  twelve 
tribes  of  Israel  did  enjoy. 

D.  In  the  enumeration  of  these  twelve  apostles, 
aU  the  evangelists  constantly  place  St.  Peter  in 
the  front,  and  St.  Matthewf  expressly  tells  us  that 
he  was  the  first ;  that  is,  he  was  the  first  that 
was  called  to  be  an  apostle  :  his  age  also,  and  the 
gravity  of  his  person  more  particularly  qualifying 
liim  for  a  primacy  of  order  amongst  the  rest  of 
the  apostles,  as  tiiat  without  which  no  society  of 
men  can  be  managed  or  maintained.     Less  than 
this,   as  none  will  deny  him,  so,  more  than  this 
neither  Scripture  nor  primitive  antiquity  do  allow 
him.     -Vnd  now  it  was  that  our  Lord  actually  con- 
ferred that  name  upon  him  which  before  he  had 
proiriised  him.     "Simon  he  surnamed  Peter."f 
It  may  here  be  inquired,  when  and  by  whom  the 
apostles  were  baptized.     That  they  were,  is  un- 
que»;ionable,  being  themselves  appointed  to  con- 
fer it  upon  others  ;  but  when  or  how  the  Scrip- 
ture is  altogether   silent.     Nicephorus,  from  no 
worse  an  author,  as  he  pretends,  than  Euodius, 
St.   Peter's  immediate  successor   in   the  see   of 
Antioch,  tells  us,  that  of  all  the  apostles  Christ 
baptized  none  but  Peter  with  his  own  hands;  that 
Peter  baptized  Andrew  and  the  two  sons  of  Ze- 
bedee,  and  they  the  rest  of  the  apostles.     This, 
if  so,  would  greatly  make  for  the  honor  of  St. 
Peter.     But  aJas  !  his   authority  is  not  only  sus- 
picious but  supposititious,  in  a  manner  deserted 
by   St.   Peter's  best  friends,  and  the   strongest 
champions  of  his  cause.     Baronius  himself,  how. 
ever,  sometimes  willing  to  make  use  of  him,  else 
where  confesses  that'this  epistle  of  Euodius  is 
altogether  unknown  to  any  of  the  ancients.     A 
for  tTie  testimony  of  Clemens  Ale.xandrinus,  which 
to  the  same  purpose  he  quotes  out  of  Sophronius, 
(though  not  Sophronius  but  Johannes  Moschus, 
as  is ''notoriously  known,  be  the  author  of  that 
book,)  besides  that  it  is  delivered  upon  an  uncer- 
tain report,  pretended  to  have  been  alleged  in  a 
discourse  between  one  Dionysius,  bishop  of  Asca- 
lon,  and  his  clergy,  out  of  a  book  of  Clemens  not 
now  extant ;  his  authors  are  much  ahke,  that  is, 
of  no  great  value  and  authority. 

4.  Amongst  these  apostles  our  Lord  chose  a 
triumvirate,  Peter  and  the  two  sons  of  Zebedee, 
to  be  his  more  intimate  companions,  whom  he  ad- 
.iiitted  more  familiarly  than  the  rest  unto  all  the 
more  secret  passages  and  transactions  of  his  life. 
The  first  instance  of  which  was  on  this  occasion  : 
— Jairus,|l  a  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  had  a  daugh- 
ter desperately  sick,  whose  disease,  having  baflled 
all  the  arts  of  physic,  was  only  curable  by  the  im- 
mediate agency  of  the  God  of  nature.  He  there- 


♦  Matt.  xix.  28. 
t  Markiii.  11. 


t  Matt.  X.  2. 
II  Mark  v.  2S 


fore,  in  all  humility,  addresses  himself  to  our  Sa- 
viour  ;  which  he  had  no  sooner  done  but  servants 
came  post  to  tell  him  that  it  was  in  vain  to  trou- 
ble our  Lord,  for  that  his  daughter  was  dead. 
Christ  bids  him  not  despond  ;  if  his  faith  held  out 
there  was  no  danger.  And  suffering  none  to  fol- 
low him  but  Peter,  James,  and  John,  he  goes 
along  with  him  to  the  house  ;  where  he  was  de- 
rided by  the  sorrowful  friends  and  neighbors,  for 
telling  them  that  she  was  not  perfectly  dead.  But 
our  Lord  entering  in,  with  the  commanding  effi- 
cacy of  two  words,  restored  her  at  once  both  to 
hfe  and  perfect  health. 

5.  Our  Lord  after  this  preached  many  sermons, 
and  wrought  manv  miracles  ;  amongst  which  none 
more  remarkable  "than  his  feeding  a  multitude  of 
five  thousand  men,  besides  women  and  children, 
but  with  five  loaves  and  two  fishes  ;*  of  which, 
nevertheless,  twelve  baskets  of  fragments  were 
taken  up.     Which  being  done,  and  the  multitude 
dismissed,  he  commanded  the  apostles  to  take  ship, 
it  being  now  near  night,  and  to  cross  over  to  Ca- 
pernaum, whilst  he  himself,  as  his  manner  was, 
retired  to  a  neighboring  mountain,  to  dispose  him- 
self to  prayer  and  contemplation.     The  apostles 
were  scarce  got  into  the  middle  of  the  sea,  when 
on   a  sudden  a  violent  storm  and  tempest  began 
to  arise,  whereby  they  were  brought  into  })reseut 
danger  of  their  lives.     Our  Saviour,  who  knew 
how°the  case  stood  with  them,  and  how  much 
they  labored  under  infinite  pains  and  fears,  having 
himself  caused  this  tempest  for  the  greater  trial 
of  theii-  faith,  a  httle  before  morning  (for  so  long 
they  remained  in  this  imminent  danger)  immedi- 
ately conveyed  himself  upon  the  sea,  where  the 
waves  received  him,  being  proud  to  carry  their 
master.     He   who  refused  to  gratify  the  devils, 
when  tempting  him  to  throw  himself  down  from 
the  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  did  here  commit  him- 
self to  a  boisterous  and  instable  element,  and  that 
in  a  violent  storm,  walking  upon  the  water  as  if 
it  had  been  dry  ground.     But  that  infinite  power 
that  made  and  supports  the  world,  as  it  gave  rules 
to  all  particular  beings,  so  can,  when  it  pleaseth, 
countermand  the  laws  of  their  creation,  and  make 
them  act  contrary  to  their  natural  inclinations. 
If  God  say  the  word,  the  sun  will  stand  still  ia 
tlie  middle  of  the  heavens  ;  if,  Go  back,  it  will  re- 
trocede,  as  upon  the  dial  of  Ahaz  :  if  he  command 
i%  the  heavens  will  become  as  brass,  and  the  earth 
as  iron,  and  that  for  three  years  and  a  half  toge- 
ther, as  in  the  case  of  Elijah's  prayer  :  If  he  say 
to  the  sea.  Divide,  it  will  run  upon  heaps,  and  be- 
come on  both  sides  as  firm  as  a  wall  of  marble. 
Nothing  can  be  more  natural  than  for  tiie  fire 
to  burn,  and  yet  at  God's  command  it  will  forget 
its  nature,  and  become  a  screen  and  a  fence  to  the 
three  children  in  the  Babylonian  furnace.     What 
heavier  than  iron,  or  more  natural  than  for  gravity 
to  tend  downwards  1  yet,  when  God  will  have  it, 
iron  shall  float  like  cork  on  the  top  of  the  water. 
The  proud  and  raging  sea,  that  naturally  refuses 
to  bear  the  bodies  of  men  while  alive,  became  here 
as  firm  as  brass,  when  commanded  to  wait  upon 
and  do  homage  to  the  God  of  nature.     Our  Lord 
walking  toward  the  ship,  as  if  he  had  an  intention 
to  pass  it,  he  was  espied  by  them,  who  presently 


Matt.  xiv.  17. 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


thought  it  to  be  the  apparition  of  a  spirit.  Here- 
upon they  were  seizt^d  with  great  terror  and  con- 
sternation, and  their  fears  were,  in  all  likelihood, 
heightened  by  the  vulgar  opinion,  that  there  are 
evil  spirits  that  choose  rather  to  appear  in  the  night 
than  by  day.  While  they  were  in  this  agony,  our 
Lord,  taking  compassion  on  them,  calls  to  them, 
and  bids  them  not  be  afraid,  for  that  it  was  no 
other  than  he  himself.  Peter  (tiie  eagerness  of 
whose  temper  carried  him  forward  to  all  bold  and 
resolute  undertakings)  entreated  our  Lord,  that  if 
it  was  he,  he  might  have  leave  to  come  upon  the 
water  to  him.  Having  received  his  orders,  he 
went  out  of  the  ship,  and  walked  upon  the  sea  to 
meet  iiis  master.  But  when  he  found  the  wind 
to  bear  hard  against  him,  and  the  waves  to  rise 
round  about  him,  whereby,  probably,  the  sigiit  of 
Christ  was  intercepted,  he  began  to  be  afraid  ; 
and  the  higher  his  fears  arose  the  lower  his  faith 
began  to  sink,  and  together  with  that,  his  body  to 
sink  under  water  :  whereupon,  in  a  passionate 
fright,  he  cried  out  to  our  Lord  to  help  him  ;  who, 
reaching  out  his  arm,  took  him  by  the  liand,  and 
set  him  again  upon  the  top  of  the  water,  with  tiiis 
gentle  reproof :  "  O  thou  of  little  faitli,  wherefore 
didst  thou  doubt  V  It  being  the  weakness  of  our 
faith  that  makes  the  influences  of  the  divine 
power  and  goodness  to  have  no  better  effect  upon 
us.  Being  come  to  the  ship,  they  took  them  in  ; 
where  our  Lord  no  sooner  arrived,  but  the  winds 
and  waves,  observing  their  duty  to  their  sovereign 
Lord,  and  having  done  the  errand  which  they 
came  upon,  mannerly  departed  and  vanished  away, 
and  the  ship  in  an  instant  was  at  the  shore.  All 
that  were  in  the  ship  being  strangely  astonished 
at  this  miracle,  and  fully  convinced  of  the  divinity 
of  his  person,  came  and  did  homage  to  him,  with 
this  confession  :  "  Of  a  truth  thou  art  the  Son  of 
God."  After  which  they  went  ashore,  and  land- 
ed in  the  country  of  Genesareth,  and  there  more 
fully  acknowledged  him  before  all  the  people. 

6.  The  next  day,  great  multitudes  flocking  after 
him,  he  entered  into  a  synagogue  at  Capernaum  ; 
and  taking  occasion  from  the  late  miracle  of  tlie 
loaves,  which  he  had  wrought  amongst  them,  he 
began  to  discourse  concerning  himselii  as  the 
"  true  manna,"*  and  the  "  bread  that  came  down 
from  heaven  ;"  largely  opening  unto  them  many 
of  the  more  subHme  and  spiritual  mysteries,  and 
the  necessary  and  important  duties  of  the  gospel. 
Hereupon  a  great  part  of  his  auditory  who  had 
hitherto  followed  him,  finding  their  understandings 
gravelled  with  these  difficult  and  uncommon  no- 
tions, and  that  the  duties  he  required  were  likely 
to  grate  hard  upon  them,  and  perceiving  now  that 
he  was  not  the  Messiah  they  took  him  for,  whose 
kingdom  should  consist  in  an  external  grandeur 
and  plenty,  but  was  to  be  managed  and  transact- 
ed in  a  more  inward  and  spiritual  way  ;  hereupon 
fairly  left  him  in  open  field,  and  henceforth  quite 
turned  their  backs  upon  him.  Whereupon  our 
Lord,  turning  about  to  his  apostles,  asked  them 
whether  they  also  would  go  away  from  him  ? 
Peter  (spokesman  generally  for  all  the  rest)  an- 
swered, whither  they  should  go  to  mend  and  bet- 
ter their  condition ;  should  they  return  back  to 
Moses  ?  alas  !  he  laid  "  a  yoke  upon  them  which 


neither  they  nor  their  fathers  were  able  to  bear. 
Should  they  go  to  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees'? 
they  would  feed  them  with  stones  instead  ot 
bread,  obtrude  human  conditions  upon  them  for 
divine  dictates  and  commands.  Should  they  be- 
take themselves  to  the  philosophers  amongst  the 
Gentiles?  they  were  miserably  Wind  and  short- 
sighted in  their  notions  of  things,  and  tlv^'ir  senti- 
ments and  opinions  not  only  different  from,  but 
contrary  to  one  another.  No,  it  was  ho  only  had 
"  the  words  of  eternal  life,"  whose  doctrine  could 
instruct  them  in  the  plain  way  to  heav.-n  ;  that 
they  had  fully  assented  to  what  both  John  and  ho 
had  said  concerning  himself ;  that  they  w  ere  fully 
persuaded,  both  from  the  efficacy  of  hi>  sermons 
which  they  heard,  and  the  powerful  conviction  of 
his  miracles,  which  they  had  seen,  that  he  was 
"  the  Son  of  the  living  God,"  the  true  Messiah 
and  Saviour  of  the  world.  But  notwithstanding 
this  fair  and  plausible  testimony,  he  tells  them  that 
they  were  not  all  of  this  mind  ;  that  there  was  a 
satan  amongst  them,  one  that  was  moved  by  the 
spirit  and  impulse,  and  that  acted  according  to 
the  rules  and  interest  of  the  devil :  intimating 
Judas,  who  should  betray  him.  So  hard  is  it  to 
meet  with  a  body  of  so  just  and  pure  a  constitu- 
tion wherein  some  rotten  member  or  distempered 
part  is  not  to  be  found. 


*  John  vi.  32. 


SECTION  IV. 

Of  St.  Peter,  from  the  time  of  his  Confession  lUl 
our  Lord's  last  Passover. 

It  was  some  time  since  our  Saviour  had  kept  his 
third  passover  at  Jerusalem,*  when  he  directed 
his  journey  towards  Caesarea  Philippi ;  where  by 
the  way,  having,  like  a  careful  master  of  his  fa- 
mily, first  prayed  with  his  apostles,  he  began  to 
ask  them  (having  been  more  than  two  years  pub- 
licly conversant  amongst  them)  what  the  world 
thought  concerning  him.  Tliey  answered,  that 
the  opinions  of  men  about  him  were  various  and 
different ;  that  some  took  him  for  John  the  Bap- 
tist lately  risen  from  the  dead  ;  between  whose 
doctrine,  discipline,  and  way  of  life,  in  the  main, 
there  was  so  great  a  correspondence.  That 
others  thought  he  was  Elias  ;  probably  judging 
so  from  the  gravity  of  his  person,  freedom  of  liis 
preaching,  the  fame  and  reputation  of  his  mira- 
cles ;  especially  since  the  Scriptures  assured 
them  he  was  not  dead,  but  taken  up  into  heaven, 
and  had  so  expressly  foretold  that  he  should  re- 
turn back  again.  That  others  looked  upon  him  as 
the  prophet  Jeremiah  alive  again,  of  whose  return 
the  Jews  had  great  expectations,  insomuch  that 
some  of  them  thought  the  soul  of  Jeremiah  was  re- 
inspired  into  Zacharias.  Or  if  not  thus,  at  least 
that  he  was  one  of  the  more  eminent  of  the  an- 
cient prophet.*,  or  that  the  soul  of  some  of  these 
persons  had  been  breathed  into  him  :  the  doctrine 
of  the  metempsychosis,  or  transmigration  of  souls, 
first  broached  and  propagated  by  Pythagoras,  be- 
in"-  at  this  time  current  among  the   Jews,  and 


Mark  viii.  27:  Matt.  xvi.  21 :  Luke  i.\.  18. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


very  much  tend  to  exalt  the  honor  of  Peter,  yet  is 
there  nothing  lierein  personal  and  peculiar  to  him 
alone,  as  distinct  from,  and  preferred  above  the 

-   '•— ,— „,,„^  .„  tlipm  •  tells  them,  it  was  no    rest  of  the  apostles.     Does  he  here  make  confes- 
eloser  ^"^  f  am  to  them  ,  te^  ^.^^  ^^  ^^J^,^  ^^^  ^^^  ^^  ^^^ ,     ^et  be. 

wonder  if  the  common  P^ope  \.ere  unm  \  ^         ^^  ^^^  ^^^ 


o^^ed  by  the  Pharisees  as  one  of  their  prime  no- 
tions and  principles.* 
2.  This  account  not  sufficmg,  our  Lord  comes 


him: 


but  since  1  sides  that  herein  he  spake  but  the  sense  of  all  the 

'    ■     ■ '  ^rs  had  said 
was  so  much  as  call- 


r^hirbe^ralwa^swiiri^rhad  "been  hearers  |  rest,  this  was  no  more  than  what  others  had 

^^77S  MSjf  ^^M  ^^i!:^  I  ^:i  ^SJ^.'^is  Nathanael,  at  his  first 

Kfevrr'tS  toTeturn  TS^r,  and    coming  to  Christ,  expressly  told   h.m     "Rabbi 

mer,  ever   loivv  frgnuentlv  styled  " the   thou  art  the  Son  of  God;   thou  art  the  King  of 

?!.1T;  ,S  !l:Li^t?'''£ld  hTm,^^he  name  of !  Israel."*     Does  our  Lord  here  style  him  a  rock  T 

....  ,...,„._.,  he  Messiah,  "  the  Son  of  i  All  the    apostles   are   elsewhere   equally _  called 

the  livingGod,"  promised  of  old  in  the  law  and 

the  prophets,  heartily  desired  and  looked  for  by 

all  good  men,  anointed  and  set  apart  by  God  to 

be  the  King,  Priest,  and  Prophet  of  his   people. 

To  tills  excellent  and  comprehensive  confession 

of  St.  Peter's,  our  Lord  returns  this  great  eulogy 

and  commendation:  "Blessed   art  thou,   Simon 

Bar-Jonah ;  flesh  and  blood  hath  not  revealed  it 

unto  thee,  but  mv  Father  which  is  in  heaven  :"  ,  .  . 

™at  is  this  faith  which  thou  hast  now  confessed  is   to  all  the  apostles,  and  ahuost  in  the  very  same 

not  human,  contrived  by  man's  wit,  or  built  upon   terms  and  words  :    "If  thine  offend  ng   brother 

his  testimony,  but  upon  those  notions  and  prin-    prove  obstinate,  tell  it  unto  '^^I^Z't lTo1}^l 

ciples  which  I  was  sent  by  God  to  reveal  to  the  \  neglect  to  hear  the  church,  let  him  be  unto  thee 


tTe^r^esfttV^TwaLtreM^rJi^V-theSonoflAll  the    apostles   are   ekewliere 

tlie  rest,  uidT,  ne  wi    l >  ,      ^  -^foundations;  yea,  said  to  be  the  "  twelve  founda. 

tions  upon  which  the  wall  of  the  new  Jerusalem,"! 
that  is,  the  evangelical  church,  is  erected  ;  and 
sometimes  others  of  them  besides  Peter  are  called 
pillars,  as  they  have  relation  to  the  church  already 
built.  Does  Christ  here  promise  the  keys  to 
Peter  ]  that  is,  power  of  governing,  and  of  exer- 
j  cising  church  censures,  and  absolving  penitent 
I  sinners  ]     The  very  same  is  elsewhere  promised 


worid,  and  those  mighty  and  solemn  attestations 
which  he  has  given  from  heaven,  to  the  truth  both 
of  my  person  and  my  doctrine.  And  because  thou 
hast  so  freely  made  this  confession,  therefore  "  I 
also  say  unto  thee,  that  thou  art  Peter,  and  upon 
this  rock  I  will  build  my  church,  and  the  gates  of 
jiell  shall  not  prevail  against  it."  That  is,  that  as 
thy  name  signifies  a  stone,  or  rock,  such  shalt 
thou  thyself  be,  firm,  solid,  and  immovable  in  build 


air  heathen  and  a  publican.  Verily  I  say  unto 
you,  whatsoever  ve  shall  bind  on  earth  shall  be 
bound  in  heaven,  and  whatsoever  ye  shall  loose  on 
earth  shall  be  loosed  in  heaven."J  And  else- 
where, when  ready  to  leave  the  world,  he  tells 
them  :  "  As  my  Father  hath  sent  me,  even  so  send 
I  you  :  whose  soever  sins  ye  remit,  they  are  re- 
mitted unto  them ;  and  whose  soever  sins  ye  re- 
tain, they  are  retained."||     By  all  which  it  ■ 


ingof  the   church;  which   shall  be   so   orderly    dent,  that  our  Lord  did  not  here  give  any  personal 
o       ,   .        ,  '         1    IT  _..j  _-  ji 1 „,«r^ot;,.,^  4r>  St    Pot<M-   ns  iiniuprsal  nastor  and 


erected  by  thy  care  and  diligence,  and  so  firmly 
founded  upon  that  faith  which  thou  hast  now  con- 
fessed, that  all  the  attempts  and  assaults  which 
the  powers  of  hell  can  make  against  it  shall  not 
be  able  to  overturn  it.  Moreover,  "  I  will  give 
unto  thee  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and 
whatsoever  thou  shalt  bind  on  eartli,  shall  be 
bound  in  lieaven,  and  whatsoever  thou  shalt  loose 
on  earth,  shall  be  loosed  in  heaven  :"  that  is,  thou 
shalt  have  that  spiritual  authority  and  power  with- 
in the  cliurch,  whereby,  as  with  keys,  thou  shalt 
be  able  to  shut  and  lock  out  obstinate  and  impeni- 
tent sinners,  and,  upon  their  repentance,  to  unlock 
the  door  and  take  them  in  again :  and  what  thou 
shalt  thus  regulariy  do,  shall  be  owned  in  the  court 
above,  and  ratified  by  God  in  heaven. 

'A.  Upon  these  several  passages,  the  champions 
of  the  church  of  Rome  mainly  build  the  unlimited 
supremacy  and  infallibility  of  the  bishops  of  that 
see  ;  with  how  mucii  trutii  and  iiow  little  reason 
it  is  not  my  present  purpose  to  discuss.  It  may 
.suffice  here  to  remark,  that  though  this  place  does 

♦  The  Jews  had  long  since  imbibed  the  love  of 
Grecian  philosophy,  which  bee:an  to  be  current 
among  them  from  the  time  of  Alexander.  And  as 
the  Christians  of  Alexandria  afterwards  mingled 
Platonism  with  the  gospel,  so  the  Pharisees,  but  by 
doing  much  more  force  to  both  systems,  mingled  the 
doctrines  of  Pythagoras  with  those  of  Moses;  or 
rather  with  the  fanciful  comments  by  which  their 
rabbis  had  corrupted  the  pure  word  of  Scripture. 
This  .-lystem  is  alluded  to  in  the  account  of  the  man 
born  blind  .John  ix.  H.— En. 


prerogative  to  St.  Peter,  as  universal  pastor  and 
head  of  the  Christian  church,  much  less  to  those 
who  were  to  be  his  successors  in  the  see  of  Rome  ; 
but  that  as  he  made  his  confession  in  the  name  of 
the  rest  of  the  apostles,  so  what  was  here  pro- 
mised unto  him  was  equally  intended  unto  all. — 
Nor  did  the  more  considering  and  judicious  part 
of  the  fathers  (however  giving  a  mighty  reverence 
to  St.  Peter)  ever  understand  it  in  any  other  sense. 
Sure  I  am,  that  Origin  tells  us,  that  every  true 
Christian  that  makes  this  confession  with  the  same 
spirit  and  integrity  which  St.  Peter  did,  shall  have 
tlie  same  blessing  and  commendation  from  Christ 
conferred  upon  him. 

4.  The  holy  Jesus,  knowing  the  time  of  his  pas- 
sion to  draw  on,  began  to  prepare  the  minds  of 
his  apostles  against  that  fatal  hour  ;  telling  them 
what  hard  and  bitter  things  he  should  suffer  at 
Jerusalem,  what  afli-onts  and  indignities  he  must 
undergo,  and  be  at  last  put  to  death,  with  all  the 
arts  of  torture  and  disgrace,  by  the  decree  of  the 
Jewish  Sanhedrim. 5  Peter,  whom  our  Lord  had 
infinitely  encouraged  and  endeared  to  him,  by  the 
great  things  which  he  had  lately  said  concerning 
him,  so  that  his  spirits  were  now  afloat,  and  his 
passions  ready  to  overrun  the  banks,  not  able  to 
endure  a  thought  that  so  much  evil  should  befall 
his  master,  broke  out  into  an  over-confident  and 
unseasonable  interruption  of  him  :  "  He  took  him 


*  John  i.  49.    t  Rev.  xxi.  14 ;  Eph.  ii.  20 ;  Gal.  ii.  9. 
t  Matt,  xviii.  17,  18.        II  John  xx.  21,  23, 
•"•  ATatt.  xvi.  21  ;  Mark  viii.  ."^1 ;  Luke  ix.  22. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


29 


and  began  to  rebuke  him,  saying,  Be  it  far  from 
thee,  Lord ;  this  shall  not  be  unto  thee."  Be- 
sides his  great  kindness  and  affection  to  his  mas- 
ter, the  minds  of  the  apostles  were  not  yet  tho- 
roughly purged  from  the  hopes  and  expectations 
of  a  glorious  reign  of  the  Messiah  ;  so  that  Peter 
could  not  but  look  upon  these  sufferings  as  unbe- 
coming and  inconsistent  with  the  state  and  dignity 
of  the  Son  of  God  ;  and  therefore  thought  good  to 
advise  his  Lord  to  take  care  of  himself,  and,  while 
there  was  time,  to  prevent  and  avoid  them.  This 
our  Lord,  who  valued  the  redemption  of  mankind 
infinitely  before  his  own  ease  and  safety,  resented 
at  so  high  a  rate  that  he  returned  upon  him  with 
this  tart  and  stinging  reproof:  "  Get  thee  behind 
me,  Satan  :"  the  very  same  treatment  which  he 
once  gave  to  the  devil  himself,  when  he  made  that 
insolent  proposal  to  him,  "  to  fall  down  and  wor- 
ship him."*  Though  in  Satan  it  was  the  result 
of  pure  malice  and  hatred,  in  Peter  only  an  error 
of  love  and  great  regard.  However,  our  Lord 
could  not  but  look  upon  it  as  a  mischievous  and 
diabolical  counsel,  prompted  and  promoted  by  the 
great  adversary  of  mankind.  Away  tlierefore,  says 
Christ,  with  thy  hellish  and  pernicious  counsel : 
"  Thou  art  an  offence  unto  me,"  in  seeking  to  op- 
pose and  undermine  that  great  design  for  which 
I  purposely  came  down  from  heaven  :  in  this, 
"  thou  savourest  not  the  things  of  God,  but  those 
that  be  of  men,"  in  suggesting  to  me  those  little 
shifts  and  arts  of  safety  and  self-preservation, 
which  human  prudence  and  the  love  of  men's  own 
selves  are  wont  to  dictate  to  them  :  by  which, 
though  we  may  learn  Peter's  mighty  kindness  to 
our  Saviour,  yet  that  herein  he  did  not  take  his 
measures  right ;  a  plain  evidence  that  his  infalli- 
bility had  not  taken  place. 

5.  About  a  week  after  this,  our  Saviour  being 
to  receive  a  type  and  specimen  of  his  future  glori- 
fication, took  with  him  his  three  more  intimate 
apostles,  Peter  and  the  two  sons  of  Zebodee,f  and 
went  up  into  a  very  high  mountain,  which  the 
ancients  generally  conceived  to  have  been  Mount 
Tabor,  a  round  and  very  high  mountain,  situate 
in  the  plains  of  Galilee.  And  now  was  even  lite- 
rally fulfilled  Vv'hat  the  Psalmist  had  spoken  : 
"  Tabor  and  Harmon  shall  rejoice  in  thy  name. "J 
For  what  greater  joy  and  triumph  than  to  be  pe- 
culiarly chosen  to  be  the  holy  mount,  whereon  our 
Lord,  in  so  eminent  a  manner,  "  received  from 
God  the  Father  honor  and  glory,"  and  made  si;ch 
magnificent  displays  of  his  divine  power  and  ma- 
jesty !  For  vv'hile  they  were  here  earnestly  em- 
ployed in  prayer,  (as  seldom  did  our  Lord  enter 
upon  any  eminent  action  but  he  first  made  his  ad- 
dress to  heaven,)  he  was  suddenly  transformed 
into  another  manner  of  appearance  ;  such  a  lustre 
and  radiancy  darted  from  his  face,  that  the  sun 
itself  shines  not  brighter  at  noon-day :  such  beams 
of  light  reflected  from  his  garments  as  outdid  the 
hght  itself  that  was  round  about  them  ;  so  ex- 
ceeding pure  and  white  that  the  snow  might  blush 
to  compare  with  it ;  nor  could  the  fuller's  art  puri- 
fy any  thing  into  half  that  whiteness  ;  an  evident 
and  sensible  representation  of  the  glory  of  that 
state  wherein  the  just  shall  "  walk  in  white,  and 

*  Luke  iv.  8.         t  Matt.  xvii.  1 ;  Mark  ix.  2. 
i  Psalm  Ixxxix.  12. 


shine  as  the  sun,  in  the  kingdom  of  the  Father." 
Durmgthis  heavenly  scene,  there  appeared  Moses 
and  Elias,  (who,  as  the  Jews  say,  shall  come  to- 
gether,) clothed  with  all  the  brightness  and  ma- 
jesty  of  a  glorified  state,  familiarly  conversing  with 
liim,  and  discoursing  of  the  death  and  sufterings 
which  he  was  shortly  to  undergo,  and  his  depart- 
ure into  heaven.  Behold  here  together  the  three 
greatest  persons  that  ever  were  the  ministers  of 
heaven  :  Moses,  under  God,  the  institutor  and  pro- 
mulgator of  the  law  ;  Elias,  the  great  reformer  of 
it,  when  under  its  deepest  degeneracy  and  corrup- 
tion ;  and  the  blessed  .Tesus,  the  Son  of  God,  who 
came  to  take  away  what  was  weak  and  imperfect, 
and  to  introduce  a  more  manly  and  ration;d  msti- 
tution,  and  to  communicate  the  last  revelation 
which  God  would  make  of  his  mind  to  the  world. 
Peter  and  the  two  apostles  that  were  with  him 
were,  in  the  mean  time,  fast  asleep  ;  heavy  through 
want  of  natural  rest,  (it  being  probably  night  when 
this  was  done,)  or  else  overpowered  with  these  ex- 
traordinary appearances,  which  the  frailty  and 
weakness  of  their  present  state  could  not  bear, 
were  fallen  into  a  trance ;  but  now  awaking,  were 
strangely  surprised  to  behold  our  Lord  surrounded 
with  so  much  glory,  and  those  two  great  persons 
conversing  with  him  :  knowing  who  they  were, 
probably  by  some  particular  marks  and  signatures 
that  were  upon  them,  or  else  by  immediate  reve- 
lation, or  from  the  discourse  which  passed  betwixt 
Christ  and  them,  or  possibly  from  some  communi- 
cation which  they  themselves  might  have  willi 
them.  While  these  heavenly  guests  were  about 
to  depart,  Peter,  in  a  great  rapture  and  ccstacy  of 
mind,  addressed  himself  to  our  Saviour,  telling  him 
how  infinitely  they  were  pleased  and  delighted 
with  their  being  there  ;  and,  to  that  purpose,  de- 
siring his  leave  that  they  might  erect  tliree  taber- 
nacles, one  for  him,  one  for  Moses,  and  one  for 
Elias.  Whde  he  was  thus  saying,  a  bright  cloud 
suddenly  overshadowed  the  two  great  ministers, 
and  wrapped  them  up ;  out  of  which  came  a  voice : 
"  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  1  am  well 
pleased;  hear  ye  him:"  which  wlien  the  apostles 
heard,  and  saw  the  cloud  coming  over  tliemselves, 
they  were  seized  with  great  consternation,  and 
fell  upon  their  faces  to  the  ground ;  whom  our 
Lord  gently  touched,  bade  them  arise  and  disband 
their  fears  ;  whereupon,  looking  up,  they  saw  none 
but  their  master,  the  rest  having  vaiiished  and 
disappeared.  In  memory  of  these  great  transac- 
tions, Bede  tells  us,  that  in  pursuance  of  St.  Peter's 
petition  about  the  three  tabernacles,  there  were 
j  afterwards  three  churches  built  upon  the  top  of 
this  mountain,  wliich,  in  after  times,  were  had  in 
j  great  veneration  ;  which  might  possibly  give  some 
I  foundation  to  that  report  which  one  makes,  that 
in  his  time  there  were  showed  the  ruins  of  those 
three  tabernacles  which  were  built  according  to 
{  St.  Peter's  desire. 

6.  After  this,  our  Lord  and  his  apostles  having 
travelled  through  Galilee,*  the  gatherers  of  tlie 
tribute-money  came  to  Peter,  and  asked  him, 
i  whether  his  master  was  not  obliged  to  pay  the  tri- 
[  bute,  which  God,  under  the  Mosaic  law,  cominand- 
ed  to  be  yearly  paid  by  every  Jew  above  twenty 
years  old,  to  the  use  of  the  temple  ;  which  eo  con- 

'  *  Matt.  xvii.  21. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


30  ^ 

tinued  to  the  times  of  Vespasian,  under  whom  the 
temple  being  destroyed,  it  was  by  him  transferred 
to  the  use  of  the  capitol  at  home,  bemg  to  the  value 
of  half  a  shekel,  or  fifteen-pence  of  our  money.  To 
this  question  of  theirs,  Peter  positively  answers, 
Yes  ;  knowing  his  master  would  never  be  back- 
ward, either  '''to  give  unto  Cssar  the  things  that 
are  Caesar's,  or  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's." 
Peter  going  into  the  house  to  give  an  account  to 
his  master"  and  to  know  his  mind  concerning  it, 
Christ  prevented  him  with  this  question  :  "  What 
thinkest  thou,  Simon,  of  whom  do  earthly  kmgs 
exact  tribute,  of  their  own  children"  and  family,  or 
from  other  people  ]  Peter  answered,  Not  from 
their  own  servants  and  family,  but  from  strangers. 
To  which  our  Lord  presently  replied,  that  then, 
according  to  his  own  argument  and  opinion,  both 
he  himself,  as  being  the  Son  of  God,  and  they, 
whom  he  had  taken  to  be  his  menial  and  domestic 
servants,  were  free  from  this  tax  of  head-money, 
yearly  to  be  paid  to  God.  But  rather  than  give 
offence,  by  seeming  to  despise  the  temple,  and  to 
undervalue  that  aiithority  that  had  settled  this  tri- 
bute, he  resolves  to  put  himself  to  the  expense  and 
chai-ges  of  a  miracle,  and  therefore  commanded 
Peter  to  go  to  the  sea,  and  take  up  the  first  fish 


vice ;  that  for  their  parts,  they  should  be  recom- 
pensed with  far  greater  privileges  ;  and  that  who- 
ever should  forsake  houses  or  lands,  kindred  or  re- 
lations, out  of  love  to  him  and  his  religion,  should 
enjoy  them  again,  with  infinite  advantages,  in  this 
world,  if  consistent  with  the  circumstances  of  their 
state,  and  those  troubles  and  persecutions  which 
would  necessarily  arise  from  the  profession  of  the 
gospel :  however,  they  should  have  what  would 
make  infinite  amends  for  all— eternal  life  in  the 
other  world. 

8.  Our  Saviour,  in  order  to  his  last  fatal  journey 
to  Jerusalem,  that  he  might  the  better  comply  with 
the  prophecy  that  went  before  him,  sent  two  of  his 
apostles,  who  in  all  probability  were  Peter  and 
John,  with  an  authoritative  commission  to  fetch  Inm 
an  ass  to  ride  on  ;*  (he  had  none  of  his  own  ;  he 
who  "was  rich,  for  our  sakes  made  himself  poor;" 
he  lived  upon  charity  all  his  life,  had  neither  an 
ass  to  ride  on,  nor  a  house  where  to  lay  his  head  ; 
no,  nor  after  his  death  a  tomb  to  lie  in,  but  what 
the  charity  of  others  provided  for  him  ;)  wfiereon 
being  mounted,  and  attended  with  the  festivities 
of  the  people,  he  set  forward  in  his  journey; 
wherein  there  appears  an  admirable  mixture  of 

.c..-.  ^t-  — I  fiumiiity  and  majesty:  the  ass  he  rode  on  became 

which  came  to  his  hook,  in  whose  mouth  he  should  1  the  meanness  and  meekness  of  a  prophet;  but 
find  a  piece  of  money,  (a  stater,  in  value  a  shekel,  |  his  arbitrary  commission  ior  the  fetching  it,  anrt 
or  half-a-crown,)  which  he  took  and  gave  to  the    *' 


collectors,  both  for  his  master  and  himself. 

7.  Our  Lord,  after  this,  discoursing  to  them  how 
to  carry  themselves  towards  their  oflending  bre- 
thren, Peter,  being  desirous  to  be  more  particularly 
informed  in  this  matter,  asked  our  Saviour,  how 
oft  a  man  was  obliged  to  forgive  his  brother,  in  case 
of  oflCence  and  trespass,  whether  seven  times  were 
niit  enough.*  He  told  him,  that  upon  his  neigli- 
bor's  repentance,  he  was  not  only  bound  to  do  it 
"seven  tunes,  but  until  seventy  times  seven  :"  that 
is,  he  must  be  indulgent  to  him,  as  oft  as  tlie  ofFend- 


the  ready  obedience  of  its  owners,  spake  the 
prerogative  of  a  king ;  the  palms  borne  before  him, 
the  garments  strewed  in  his  way,  and  the  joyful 
hosannahs  and  acclamations  of  the  people,  pro- 
claim at  once  both  the  majesty  of  a  prince  and  the 
triumph  of  a  Saviour  ;  for  such  expr3Ssions  of  joy 
we  find  were  usual  in  public  and  festival  solemni- 
ties. Thus  the  historian,  describing  the  emperor 
Commodus's  triumphant  return  to  Rome,  tells  us, 
that  the  senate  and  whole  people  of  Rome,  to  tes- 
tify  their  mighty  kindness  and  veneration  for  him, 
came  out  of  tlie  city  to  meet  him,  carrying  palms 


er  returns  and  be<?s  it,  and  heartily  professes  his  and  laurels  along  with  them,  and  throwing  about 
sorrow  and  repentance  :  which  he  further  iUus-  all  sorts  of  flowers  that  were  then  in  season.  In 
trates  by  a  plain  and  excellent  parable,  and  thence  this  manner  our  Lord  being  entered  the  city,  he 
draws  this  conclusion,  that  the  same  measures,  j  soon  after  retired  to  Bethany,  whence  he  despatch- 
ed Peter  and  John  to  make  preparation  for  the 
passover ;  giving  them  instructions  where  he  would 
have  it  kept  if  accordingly  they  found  the  person 
he  had  described  to  them,  whom  they  followed 
home  to  his  house.  Whether  this  was  the  house 
of  John  the  Evangelist,  as  (Nicephorus  tells  us,) 
situate  near  Mount  Sion,  or  of  Simon  the  leper,  or 
of  Nicodemus,  or  of  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  as  others 
severally  conjecture,  seeing  none  of  the  evange- 
lists have  thought  fit  to  tell  us,  it  may  not  become 
us  curiously  to  inquire. 


either  of  compassion  or  cruelty,  which  men  show 
to  their  fellow-brethren,  they  themselves  shall  meet 
with  at  the  hands  of  God,  the  supreme  ruler  and 
justiciary  of  the  world.  It  was  not  long  after, 
when  a  brisk  young  man  addressed  himself  to  our 
Saviour,  to  know  of  him  by  what  methods  he  might 
best  attain  eternal  life  ;t  our  Lord,  to  humble  his 
confidence,  bid  him  "  sell  his  estate,  and  give  it  to 
the  poor"  and,  putting  himself  under  his  discipline, 
he  should  have  a  much  better  "  treasure  in  heaven." 
The  man  was  rich,  and  liked  not  the  counsel,  nor 
was  he  willing  to  purchase  happiness  at  such  a 
rate,  and  accordingly  went  away  under  great  sor- 
row and  discontent.  Upon  which  Christ  takes  oc- 
casion to  let  them  know,  how  hardly  those  men 
would  get  to  heaven,  who  built  their  comfort  and 
happiness  upon  the  plenty  and  abundance  of  these 
outward  tilings.  Peter,  taking  hold  of  this  opnortu- 
nitv,  asked,  what  return  they  themselves  should 
have,  who  had  quitted  and  renounced  whatever 
they  had  for  his  sake  and  service.  Our  Saviour 
answers,  that  no  man  should  be  a  loser  by  his  ser- 


*  Matt,  xviii.  21. 

I  Matt.xix.  16;  Mark  x.  17;  Luke  xviii. 


SECTION  V. 

Of  St.  Peter,  from  the  last  Passover  till  the  Death 
of  Christ. 

All  things  being  now  prepared,  our  Saviour  with 
his  apostles  comes  down  for  the  celebration  of  the 
passover  :  and  being  entered  into  the  house,  they 


*  Matt.  xxi.  1. 
tMatt.  xxvi.  17; 


Mark  xiv.  12;  Luke  x> 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


31 


all  orderly  took  their  places.  Our  Lord,  who  had 
always  taught  them  by  his  practice,  no  less  than 
by  his  doctrine,  did  now  particularly  design  to 
teach  them  humility  and  charity  by  his  own  exam- 
ple :  and  that  the  instance  might  be  the  greater, 
he  underwent  the  meanest  offices  of  the  ministry. 
Towards  the  end,  therefore,  of  the  paschal  suppe'r, 
he  arose  from  the  table,  and  laying  aside  his  up- 
per garment,  (which,  according  to  the  fashion  of 
those  eastern  countries,  being  long,  was  unfit  for 
action,)  and  himself  taking  a  towel,  and  pouring 
water  into  a  bason,  he  began  to  wash  all  the  apos- 
tles' feet  ;*  not  disdaining  those  of  Judas  himself. 
Coming  to  Peter,  he  would  by  no  means  admit  an 
instance  of  so  much  condescension.  What  ?  the 
master  to  do  this  to  the  servant !  the  Son  of  God 
to  so  vile  a  sinner?  This  made  him  a  second  time 
refuse  it:  "Thou  shalt  never  wash  my  feet."  But 
our  Lord  soon  corrects  his  imprudent  modesty,  by 
telling  him,  that  "  if  he  washed  liim  not  ho  could 
have  no  part  with  him  :"  insinuating  the  mystery 
of  this  action,  which  was  to  denote  remission  of 
sin,  and  the  purifying  virtue  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
to  be  poured  upon  all  true  Christians.  Peter,  sa- 
tisfied with  the  answer,  soon  altered  his  resolu- 
tion :  "  Lord,  not  my  feet  only,  but  also  my  hands 
and  my  head."  If  the  case  be  so,  let  mo  be  washed 
all  over,  rather  than  come  short  of  my  portion  in 
thee.  This  being  done,  he  returned  again  to  the 
table,  and  acquainted  them  with  the  meaning  and 
tendency  of  this  mystical  action,  and  what  force  it 
ought  to  have  upon  them  towards  one  another. 
The  washing  itself  denoted  their  inward  and  spi- 
ritual cleansing  by  the  blood  and  spirit  of  Christ 


going.  Our  Lord  replied,  it  was  to  that  place 
whither  he  could  not  now  follow  him;  but  that  he 
should  do  it  afterwards :  intimating  the  martyrdom 
he  was  to  undergo  for  the  sake  of  Christ.  To 
which  Peter  answered,  that  he  knew  no  reason 
why  he  might  not  follow  him,  seeing  that  if  it  was 
even  to  the  laying  down  of  his  life  for  his  sake,  he 
\yas  most  ready  and  resolved  to  do  it.  Our  Lord 
hked  not  this  over-confident  presumption,  and 
therefore  told  him,  they  were  great  things  which 
he  promised,  but  that  he  took  not  the  true  mea- 
sures of  his  own  strength,  nor  espied  tlie  snares 
and  designs  of  Satan,  who  desired  no  better  an 
occasion  than  this  to  sift  and  winnow  him ;  but 
that  he  had  prayed  to  heaven  for  him,  "that  his 
faith  might  not  fail ;"  by  which  means  being 
strengthened  himself,  he  should  be  obliged  to 
strengthen  and  confirm  his  brethren.  And  where- 
as he  so  confidently  assured  him,  that  he  was 
ready  to  go  along  with  him,  not  only  into  prison 
but  even  to  death  itself,  our  Lord  plainly  told  him, 
that  notwithstanding  all  his  confident  and  gener- 
ous resolutions,  before  the  cock  crowed  twice,  that 
is,  before  three  of  the  clock  in  the  morning,  ho 
would  that  very  night  three  several  times  deny  his 
master.  With  which  answer  our  Lord  wisely 
rebuked  his  confidence,  and  taught  him  (had  he 
understood  the  lesson)  not  to  trust  to  his  own 
strength,  but  entirely  to  depend  upon  him  who  is 
able  to  keep  us  from  falling.  Withal  insinuating, 
that  though  by  his  sin  he  would  justly  forfeit  the 
divine  grace  and  favor,  yet  upon  his  repentance 
he  should  be  restored  to  the  honor  of  the  aposto- 
late,  as  a  certain  evidence  of  the  divine  goodness 


symbolically  typified  and  represented  by  all  the    and  indulgence  to  h: 

washings  and  baptisms  of  the  Mosaic  institution  :        3.  Having  sung  a  hymn,   and  concluded   the 


the  washing  of  the  feet  respected  our  entire  sanc- 
tification  of  our  whole  spirit,  soul,  and  body,  no 
part  being  to  be  left  impure.  And  then,  that  aU 
this  should  be  done  by  so  great  a  person,  their 
Lord  and  master  preached  to  their  very  senses  a 
sermon  of  the  greatest  humility  and  condescen- 
sion ;  and  taught  them  how  little  reason  they  had 
to  boggle  at  the  meanest  offices  of  kindness  and 
charity  towards  others,  when  he  himself  had 
stooped  to  so  lov/  an  abasure  towards  them.  And 
now  he  began  more  immediately  to  reflect  upon 
his  sufferings,  and  upon  him  who  was  to  be  the 
occasion  of  them ;  telling  them,  that  one  of  them 
v/ould  be  the  traitor  to  betray  him.  Whereat 
they  were  strangely  troubled,  and  every  one  be- 
gan to  suspect  himself,  till  Peter  (whose  love  and 
care  for  his  master  commonly  made  him  start 
sooner  than  the  rest)  made  signs  to  St.  John,  who 
lay  in  our  Saviour's  bosom,  to  ask  him  particular- 
ly who  it  was  ;  which  our  Saviour  presently  show- 
e'd,  by  making  them  understand  that  it  was  Judas 
Iscariot ;  who  not  long  after  left  the  company. 

2.  And  now  our  Lord  began  the  institution  of 
his  supper  ;  that  great  solemn  institution  which  he 
was  resolved  to  leave  behind  him,  to  be  constantly 
celebrated  in  all  ages  of  the  church,  as  the  stand- 
ing monument  of  his  love  in  dying  for  mankind. — 
For  now  he  told  them,  that  he  himself  must  leave 
them,  and  that  "  whither  he  went  they  could  not 
come."t  Peter,  not  well  understanding  what  he 
meant,  asked  him  whither  it  was  that  he  was 


►  Johnxiii.  4.    t  John  xiii.  36;  Lukexxii.31. 
,86  '20 


whole  affair,  he  left  the  house  where  all  these 
things  had  been  transacted,  and  went  with  his 
apostles  unto  the  Mount  of  Olives  ;*  where  he 
again  put  them  in  mind  how  much  they  would  be 
offended  at  those  things  which  he  was  now  to 
suffer;  and  Peter  again  renewed  his  resolute  and 
undaunted  promise  of  suffering  and  dying  with 
him ;  yea,  out  of  an  excessive  confidence,  told  hini 
that  "  though  all  the  rest  should  forsake  and  deny 
him,  yet  would  not  he  deny  him."  How  far  will 
zeal  and  an  indiscreet  affection  transport  even  a 
good  man  into  vanity  and  presumption.  Peter 
questions  others,  but  never  doubts  himself.  So 
natural  is  self-love,  so  apt  are  we  to  take  the  fair- 
est measures  of  ourselves.  Nay,  though  our  Lord 
had  but  a  little  before  once  and  again  reproved 
this  vain  humor,  yet  does  he  still  not  only  persist 
but  grow  up  in  it.  So  hardly  are  we  brought  to 
espy  our  own  faults,  or  to  be  so  thoroughly  con- 
vinced of  them  as  to  correct  and  reform  them. — 
This  confidence  of  his  inspired  all  the  rest  with  a 
mighty  courage,  all  the  apostles  assuring  him  of 
their  constant  and  unshaken  adhering  to  him. 
Our  Lord  returning  the  same  answer  to  Peter 
which  he  had  done  before.  From  hence  they 
went  down  into  the  village  of  Gcthsemane,  where 
leaving  the  rest  of  the  apostles,  he,  accompanied 
with  none  but  Peter,  James,  and  John,  retired  into 
a  neighboring  garden,  (whither,  Eusebius  tells  us, 
Christians  even  in  his  time  were  wont  to  come, 
solemnly  to  offer  up  their  prayers  to  heaven  ;  and 


*  Matt,  xxvi  30  j  Mark,  xiv.  26. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


32 


where,  as  the  Arabian  geo^apher  informs  us,  a 
fair  and  stately  church  was  built  to  the  honor  of 
the  Virgin  Mary,)  to  enter  upon  the  ante-scene 
of  the  fatal  tragedy  that  was  now  approaching  ; 
it  bearing  a  very  fit  proportion  (as  some  of  the 
fathers  have  observed)  that  as  the  first  Adam  fell 
and  ruined  mankind  in  a  garden,  so  a  garden 
should  be  the  place  where  the  second  Adam 
should  begin  his  passion,  in  order  to  the  redemp- 
tion of  the  world.  Gardens,  which  to  us  are 
places  of  repose  and  pleasure,  and  scenes  of 
divertisement  and  delight,  were  to  our  Lord  a 
school  of  temptation,  a  theatre  of  great  horrors 
and  sufTerings,  and  the  first  approaches  of  the 
hour  of  darkness. 

4.  Here  it  was  that  the  blessed  Jesus  labored 
under  the  bitterest  agony  that  could  fall  upon  hu- 
man nature,  which  the  holy  story  describes  by 
words  sufficiently  expressive  of  the  highest  grief 
and   sorrow;    he   was  "afraid,  sorrowful,"    and 
"  very  heavy ;"  yea,  "  his  soul  was"  tteoiAutoj,  "  ex- 
ceeding sorrowful,"  and  that  "  even  unto  death  ;" 
he  was  "  sore  amazed  and  very  heavy  ;"  he  was 
"  troubled,"  trapaxdn,  his  soul  was  shaken  with  a 
vehement  commotion;  yea  he  was  "in  an  agony," 
a  word  by  which  the  Greeks  were  wont  to  repre- 
sent the  greatest  conflicts  and  anxieties.     The 
effect  of  all  which  was,  that  "he  prayed  more 
earnestly,"  offering  up  "  prayers  and  suppHcations 
with  strong  cries  and  tears,"  as  the  apostle  ex- 
pounds it ;  and  sweat,  "  as  it  were  great  drops  of 
blood  falling  to  the  ground."     What  this  bloody 
sweat  was,  and  how  far  natural  or  extraordinary, 
I  am  not  now  concerned  to  inquire.     Certain  it  is 
it  was  a  plain  evidence  of  the  most  intense  grief 
and  sadness  ;  for  if  an  extreme  fear  or  trouble 
will  many  times  cast  us  into  a  cold  sweat,  how 
great  must  be  the  commotion  and  conflict  of  our 
Saviour's  mind,  which  could  force  open  the  pores 
of  his  body,  locked  up  by  the   coldness  of  the 
night,  and  make  not  drops  of  sweat,  but  "  great 
drops,"  or  (as  the  word  Spo/iSoi  signifies)  "clods" 
of  blood  to  issue  from  them  !   While  our  Lord  was 
thus   contending   with   these   ante-passions,    the 
three  apostles,  whom  he  had  left  at  some  distance 
from  him,  being  tired  out  with  watching,  and  dis- 
posed by  the  silence  of  the  night,  were  fallen  fast 
asleep.     Our  Lord,  who  had  made  three  several 


agony;  their  company  at  least  being  some  re- 
freshment to  one  under  such  sad  fatal  circum- 
stances ;  and  this  but  for  a  little  time,  "  one  hour," 
it  would  soon  be  over,  and  then  they  might  freely 
consult  their  own  ease  and  safety.     It  was  their 
dear  Lord  and  master  whom  they  now  were  to 
attend  upon,  ready  to  lay  down  his  life  for  them, 
sweating  already  under  the  first  skirmishes  of  his 
sufferings,  and  expecting  every  moment  when  all 
the  powers  of  darkness  would  fall  upon  him.    But 
all  these  considerations  were  drowned  in  a  pro- 
found security  ;  the  men  were  fast  asleep,  and 
though  often  awakened  and  told  of  it,  regarded  it 
not,  as  if  nothing  but  ease  and  softness  had  been 
then  to  be  dreamed  of.   An  action  that  looked  like 
the  most  prodigious  ingratitude,  and  the  highest 
unconcernedness  for  their  Lord  and  master,  and 
which  one  would  have  thought  had  argued  a  very 
great  coldness   and  indifferency  of  affection  to- 
wards  him.     But  he  would  not  set  it  upon  the 
tenters,  nor  stretch  it  to  what  it  might  easily  have 
been  drawn  to ;  he  imputes  it  not  to  their  un- 
thankfulness,  or  want   of  affection,  nor  to  their 
carelessness  of  what  became  of  him,  but  merely 
to  their  infirmity  and  the  weakness  of  their  bodily 
temper,  himself  making  the  excuse,  when  they 
could  make  none  for  themselves  :  "  the  spirit  in- 
deed is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak."     Hereby 
teaching  us  to  put  the  most  candid  and  favorable 
construction  upon  those  actions  of  others  which 
are  capable  of  various  interpretations,  and  rather 
with  the  bee  to  suck  honey,  than  with  the  spider 
to  draw  poison  from  them.     His  last  prayer  be- 
ing ended,  he  came  to  them,  and  told  them  with  a 
gentle  rebuke,  that  now  they  might  "  sleep  on,"  if 
they  pleased  ;  that  "the  hour  was  at  hand  that  he 
should  be  betrayed,  and  delivered  into  the  hands 
of  men." 

5.  While  he  was  thus  discoursing  to  them,  a 
band  of  soldiers  sent  from  the  high  priest,  witli 
the  traitor  Judas  to  conduct  and  direct  them, 
rushed  into  the  garden,  and  seized  upon  him ; 
which  when  the  apostles  saw,  they  asked  him 
whether  they  should  attempt  his  rescue.  Peter, 
(whose  ungovernable  zeal  put  him  upon  aU  dan- 
gerous undertakings,)  without  staying  for  an  an- 
swer, drew  his  sword,  and  espying  one  more  busy 
than  the  rest  in  laying  hold  upon  our  Saviour, 


asleep,     xjur  jjoru,  wuu  lutu  iniiuu   uuiuc  ouvuiiu    tuan   mc  iv-o^  ..»  ^.^.j-..^,   -, —    —  _ — 

addresses  unto  heaven,  that,  if  it  might  consist   which  was  Malchus,  (who,  though  carrying  king- 


with  his  Father's  will,  this  bitter  "  cup  might  pass 
from  him,"  (expressing  herein  the  harmless  and 
innocent  desires  of  human  nature,  which  always 
studies  its  own  preservation,)  between  each  of 
them  came  to  visit  the  apostles  ;  and  calling  to 
Peter,  asked  him,  whether  they  could  not  "watch" 
with  him  "  one  hour  ;"  advising  them  to  "  watch 
and  pray,"  that  they  entered  "  not  into  tempta- 
tion ;"  adding  this  argument,  that  "the  spirit  in- 
deed" was  "  willing,"  but  that  "  the  flesh"  was 
"weak;"  and  that  therefore  there  was  the  more 
need  that  they  should  stand  upon  their  guard. — 
Observe  here  the  incomparable  sweetness,  the 
generous  candor  of  our  blessed  Saviour,  to  pass 
BO  charitable  a  censure  upon  an  action  from 
whence  malice  and  ill-nature  might  have  drawn 
monsters  and  prodigies,  and  have  represented  it 
black  as  the  shades  of  darkness.  The  request 
which  our  Lord  made  to  these  apostles  was  in- 
finitely reasonable,  to  watch  with  him  in  his  "bitter 


ship  in  his  name,  was  but  servant  to  the  high 
priest,)  struck  at  him  with  an  intention  to  despatch 
him ;  but  God  overruling  the  stroke,  it  only  cut  off 
his  right  ear.  Our  Lord  liked  not  this  wild  and 
unwarrantable  zeal,  and  therefore  entreated  their 
patience,  whilst  he  miraculously  healed  the  wound ; 
and  turning  to  Peter,  bade  him  put  up  his  sword 
again  :  told  him  that  they  who  unwarrantably  used 
the  sword  should  themselves  ])erish  by  it ;  that 
there  was  no  need  of  these  violent  and  extrava- 
gant courses ;  that  if  he  had  a  mind  to  be  rid  of  his 
keepers  he  could  ask  his  Father,  who  would  pre- 
sently send  "  more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels" 
to  his  rescue  and  deliverance  :  but  he  must  "  drink 
the  cup"  which  his  Father  had  put  into  his  hand  ; 
for  how  else  should  the  Scriptures  be  fulfilled, 
which  had  expressly  foretold  "that  these  things 
must  be  I"  Whereupon,  all  the  apostles  forsook 
him,  and  fled  from  him ;  and  they  who  before  in 
their  promises  were  as  bold  as  lion.s  now  it  came 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


33 


to  it,  like  fearful  and  timorous  hares,  ran  away  from 
hira.  Peter  and  John,  though  staying  last  with 
him,  yet  followed  the  same  way  with  the  rest,  pre- 
ferring their  own  safety  before  the  concernments 
of  their  master. 

6.  No  sooner  was  he  apprehended  by  the  sol- 
diers, and  brought  out  of  the  garden,  but  he  was 
immediately  posted  from  one  tribunal  to  another;* 
brought  first  to  Annas,  then  carried  to  Caiaphas, 
where  the  Jewish  Sanhedrim  met  together  in  or- 
der to  his  trial  and  condemnation.  Peter  having 
a  little  recovered  himself,  and  gotten  loose  from 
Iiis  fears,  probably  encouraged  by  his  companion, 
St.  John,  returns  back  to  seek  his  master,  and 
finding  them  leading  him  to  the  high-priest's  hall, 
followed  afar  off,  to  see  what  would  be  the  event 
and  issue  :  but  coming  to  the  door,  could  get  no 
admittance,  till  one  of  the  disciples  who  was  ac- 
quainted there,  went  out  and  persuaded  the  ser- 
vant who  kept  the  door  to  let  him  in.  Being  led 
into  the  hall  where  the  servants  and  officers  stood 
round  the  fire,  Peter  also  came  thither  lo  warm 
liimself,  where  being  espied  by  the  servant-maid 
that  let  him  in,  she,  earnestly  looking  upon  him, 
charged  him  with  being  one  of  Christ's  disciples, 
which  Peter  publicly  denied  before  all  the  com- 
pany, positively  affirming  that  "  he  knew  him 
not ;"  and  presently  withdrew  himself  into  the 
porch,  where  lie  heard  the  cock  crow  :  an  intima- 
tion, one  would  have  thought,  which  should  have 
awakened  his  conscience  into  a  quick  sense  of 
liis  duty,  and  the  promise  he  had  made  unto  his 
master.  Li  the  porch,  another  of  the  maids  set 
upon  him,  charging  him  "  that  he  also  was  one 
of  them  that  had  been  with  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ;" 
which  Peter  stoutly  denied,  saying  that  he  "  knew 
not  Christ ;"  and  the  better  to  gain  their  belief 
to  what  he  said  ratified  it  with  an  oath.  So  na- 
tural is  it  for  one  sin  to  di'aw  on  another. 

7.  About  an  hour  after,  he  was  a  third  time  set 
upon  by  a  servant  of  the  high-priest,  Malchus's 
kinsman,  whose  ear  Peter  had  lately  cut  off:  by 
him  he  was  charged  to  be  one  of  Christ's  disci- 
ples ;  yea,  that  his  very  speech  betrayed  him  to 
be  a  Galilean : — for  the  Galileans,  though  they  did 
not  speak  a  different  language,  had  yet  a  differ- 
ent dialect,  using  a  more  confused  and  barbarous, 
a  broader  and  more  unpolished  way  of  pronuncia- 
tion than  the  rest  of  the  Jews  ;  whereby  they 
were  easily  distinguishable  in  their  speaking  from 
other  men  ;  abundant  instances  whereof  there  are 
extant  in  the  Talmud  at  this  day  : — nay,  not  only 
gave  this  evidence,  but  added,  that  he  himself  had 
seen  him  witli  Jesus  in  the  garden.  Peter  still 
resolutely  denied  tiie  matter;  and  to  add  the 
higliest  accomplishment  to  his  sin,  ratified  it  not 
only  with  an  oath,  but  a  solemn  curse  and  execra- 
tion, that  he  was  not  the  person,  that  he  knew  not 
the  man.  It  is  but  a  very  weak  excuse  which  St. 
Ambrose  and  some  others  make  for  this  act  of 
Peter's,  in  saying,  "I  know  not  the  man."  "He 
did  well,"  says  he,  "  to  deny  him  to  be  man  whom 
he  knew  to  be  God."  St.  Jerome  takes  notice  of 
this  pious  and  well-meant  excuse  made  for  Peter, 
tliough  out  of  modesty  he  conceals  the  name  of 
its  author,  but  yet  justly  censures  it  as  trifling  and 


*  Malt.  xxvi.  57;  Mark  xiv.  53;  Luke  xxii.  54  : 
John  xviii.  12. 


frivolous,  and  which  to  excuse  man  from  folly  would 
charge  God  with  falsehood  :  for  if  he  did  not  deny 
him,  then  our  Lord  was  out,  when  he  said,  that 
that  night  he  "  sliould  thrice  deny  him  ;"  that  is, 
his  person,  and  not  only  his  humanity.  Certainly 
the  best  apology  that  can  be  made  for  Peter  is, 
tliat  he  quickly  repented  of  this  great  sm  ;  for  no 
sooner  had  he  done  it,  but  the  cock  crew  again ; 
at  which  intimation  our  Saviour  turned  about,  and 
earnestly  looked  upon  Jiim ;  a  glance  that  quickly 
pierced  him  to  the  heart,  and  brought  to  his  re- 
membrance, what  our  Lord  had  once  and  again 
foretold  him,  how  foully  and  shamefully  lie  should 
deny  him.  Whereupon,  not  being  able  to  con- 
tain his  sorrow,  he  ran  out  of  doors  to  give  it  vent, 
and  "  wept  bitterly  ;"  passionately  bewailing  his 
folly,  and  the  aggravations  of  his  sin  ;  thereby  en- 
deavoring to  make  some  reparation  for  lii.s  fault, 
and  recover  himself  into  the  favor  of  lieavun,  and 
to  prevent  the  execution  of  divine  justice,  by  takhig 
a  severe  revenge  upon  himself;  by  these  peni- 
tential tears  he  endeavored  to  wash  off  his  guilt ; 
as  indeed  repentance  is  the  next  step  to  inno- 
cence. 


SECTION  VI. 

Of  St.  Peter,  from  Christ's  Resurrection  till 
his  Ascension. 

What  became  of  Peter  after  liis  late  prevarica- 
tion, whether  he  followed  our  Saviour  througli 
the  several  stages  of  his  trial,  and  personally  at- 
tended as  a  mourner  at  tlie  funeral  of  his  master, 
we  have  no  account  left  upon  record.  No  doubt  he 
staid  at  Jerusalem,  and  probably  with  i-k.  John, 
together  with  whom  we  first  find  him  mentioned,, 
when  both  set  forwards  to  the  sepulchre  ;  which 
was  in  this  manner.  Early  on  that  morning 
whereon  our  Lord  was  to  return  from  tlie  grave, 
Mary  Magdalene,*  and  some  other  devout  and 
pious  women,  brought  spices  and  ointments,  with 
a  design  to  embalm  the  body  of  our  crucified 
Lord.  Coming  to  tlie  sepulchre  at  sun-rising,  and 
finding  the  door  open,  they  entered  in,  where  they 
were  suddenly  saluted  by  an  angel,  who  told  them 
that  Jesus  was  risen,  and  bade  them  go  and  ac- 
quaint his  apostles,  and  particularly  Peter,  that  he 
was  returned  from  the  dead  ;  and  that  he  would 
go  before  them  into  Galilee,  where  they  should 
meet  with  him.  Hereupon  they  re'urned  back, 
and  acfuiainted  the  apostles  with  what  had  passed, 
who  beheld  the  story  as  the  product  of  a  weak 
and  heated  fancy.  But  Peter  and  Joim  presently 
hastened  towards  the  garden  :t  Joim,  being  the 
younger  and  nimbler,  outran  his  companion,  and 
came^first  thither  :  where  he  only  look-ed,  but  en- 
tered not  in,  either  out  of  fear  in  himself,  or  a 
o-reat  reverence  to  our  Saviour.  Peter,  though 
behind  in  space  was  before  in  zeal,  and  being  elder 
and  more  considerate,  came  and  resolutely  enter- 
ed in,  where  they  found  nothing  but  the  linen 
cloths  lying  together  in  one  place,  and  the  napkin 
that  was  about  his  head  wrapped  together  in 
another  ;  which  being  disposed  with  so  mucli  care 
and  order,  showed   (what  was  falsely  suggested 


Mark  xvi.  1.        +  Luke  xxi v.  l"2  •  John  xx.  2. 


34 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


by  the  Jews)  that  our  Saviour's  body  was  not  taken 
away  by  tljievee,  wlio  are  wont  more  to  consult 
tlieii-  escape  than  iiow  to  leave  things  orderly  dis- 
posed  behind  them. 

•J.  The  same  day  about  noon  we  may  suppose 
it  was,  that  our  Lord  himself  appeared  alone  to 
Peter;  being  assured  of  the  thing,  though  not  so 
precisely  of  the  time.  That  he  did  so  St.  Paul 
expressly  tells  us  ;*  and  so  did  the  apostles  to  the 
two  disciples  that  came  from  Emmaus,  "The 
Lord  IS  risen,  and  hath  appeared  to  Simon  ;''t 
which  probably  intimates,  that  it  was  before  his 
appearing  to  those  two  disciples.  And  indeed  we 
cannot  but  think  that  our  Lord  would  hasten  the 
manifestation  of  himself  to  him,  as  compassion- 
ating his  case,  being  overwhelmed  with  sorrow 
for  the  late  shameful  denial  of  his  master ;  and 
was  therefore  willing  in  the  first  place  to  honor 
him  witli  his  presence,  at  once  to  confirm  him 
in  the  article  of  his  resurrection,  and  to  let  him 
see  that  he  was  restored  to  the  place  which 
before  he  had  in  his  grace  and  favor.  St.  Paul 
mentioning  his  several  appearances  after  his  re- 
surrection, seems  to  make  this  the  first  of  them, 
that  "he  was  seen  of  Cephas."  Not  that  it  was 
simply  the  first,  for  ho  first  appeared  to  the  wo- 
men. But,  as  Chrysostom  observes,  it  was  the 
first  that  was  made  to  men.  He  was  first  seen 
by  him  who  most  desired  to  see  him.  He  also 
adds  several  probable  conjectures,  why  our  Lord 
first  discovered  himself  to  Peter :  as,  that  it  re- 
quired a  more  than  ordinary  firmness  and  resolu- 
tion of  mind  to  be  able  to  bear  such  a  sight ;  for 
they  who  beheld  him  after  others  had  seen  him, 
and  had  heard  their  frequent  testimonies  and  re- 
ports, liad  had  their  faith  greatly  prepared  and  en- 
couraged to  entertain  it ;  but  he  who  was  to  be  ho- 
nored with  the  first  appearance  had  need  of  a  big- 
ger and  more  undaunted  faith,  lest  he  sliould  be 
overborne,  with  such  a  strange  and  unwonted  sight. 
That  Peter  was  the  first  that  had  made  a  signal 
confession  of  his  master,  and  therefore  it  was  fit 
and  reasonable  that  he  should  first  see  him  alive 
after  his  resurrection.  That  Peter  had  lately  de- 
nied his  Lord,  the  grief  whereof  lay  hard  upon 
him  ;  that  therefore  our  Saviour  was  willing  to  ad- 
minister some  consolation  to  him,  and,  as  soon  as 
might  be,  to  let  him  see  that  he  had  not  cast  him 
oft',  like  the  kind  Samaritan,  he  made  haste  to  help 
him,  and  to  pour  oil  into  his  wounded  conscience. 
3.  Some  time  after  this,  the  apostles  began  to 
resolve  upon  their  journey  into  Gallilee,  as  he  him- 
self had  commanded  them.  If  it  be  inquired  why 
they  went  no  sooner,  seeing  this  was  the  first  mes- 
sage and  intimation  they  had  received  from  him, 
St.  Ambrose's  resolution  seems  very  rational,  that 
our  Lord  indeed  had  commanded  them  to  go 
thither,  but  that  their  fears  for  some  time  kept 
them  at  home  ;  not  being  as  yet  fully  satisfied  in 
the  truth  of  his  resurrection,  tOl  our  Lord,  by  often 
appearing  to  them,  had  confirmed  their  minds,  and 
put  the  case  beyond  all  dispute.  They  went,  as 
we  may  suppose,  in  several  companies,  lest  going 
all  in  one  body  they  should  awaken  the  power  and 
malice  of  their  enemies,  and  alarm  the  care  and 
vigilancy  of  the  state,  which,  by  reason  of  the 
noise  that  our  Saviour's  trial  and  execution  had 


1  Cor.  XV.  5. 


t  Ltike  xxiv.  34. 


made  up  and  down  the  country,  was  yet  full  of 
jealousies  and  fears.  We  find  Peter,  Thomas, 
Nathanael,  and  the  two  sons  of  Zebedee,  and  two 
more  of  the  disciples,  arrived  at  some  town  about 
the  sea  of  Tiberias  ;  where  the  providence  of  God 
guiding  the  instance  of  their  employment,  Peter, 
accompanied  with  the  rest,  returns  to  his  old  trade 
of  fishing.*  They  labored  all  night,  but  caught 
nothing.  Early  in  the  morning,  a  grave  person, 
probably  in  the  habit  of  a  traveller,  presents  him- 
self upon  the  shore,  and  calling  to  them,  asked 
them  whether  they  had  any  meat.  When  they 
told  him  no,  he  advised  them  to  cast  the  net  on 
the  right  side  of  the  ship,  that  so  the  miracle  might 
not  seem  to  bo  the  effect  of  chance,  and  they 
should  not  fail  to  speed.  They  did  so,  and  the  net 
presently  inclosed  so  great  a  draught  that  they 
were  scarce  able  to  drag  it  ashore.  St.  John, 
amazed  with  the  strangeness  of  tiie  matter,  told 
Peter  that  surely  this  must  be  the  Lord,  whom 
the  winds,  and  the  sea,  and  all  the  inhabitants  of 
that  watery  region  were  so  ready  to  obey.  Peter's 
zeal  presently  took  fire,  notwithstanding  the  cold- 
ness of  the  season,  and  impatient  of  the  least  mo- 
ment's being  kept  from  the  company  of  his  dear 
Lord  and  master,  without  any  consideration  of  the 
danger  to  which  he  exposed  himself,  he  girt  his 
fisher's  coat  about  him,  and  throwing  himself  into 
the  sea,  swam  to  shore,  not  being  able  to  stay  till 
the  ship  could  arrive,  which  came  presently  after. 
Landing,  they  found  a  fire  ready  made,  and  fish 
laid  upon  it,  either  immediately  created  by  his 
divine  power,  or  which  came  to  the  shore  of  its 
own  accord,  and  oflfered  itself  to  his  hand  ;  which 
notwithstanding,  he  commands  them  to  bring  of 
the  fish  which  they  had  lately  caught,  and  prepare 
it  for  their  dinner,  he  himself  dining  with  them  ; 
both  that  he  might  give  them  an  instance  of  mu- 
tual love  and  fellowship,  and  also  assure  them  of 
the  truth  of  his  human  nature,  since  his  return 
from  the  dead. 

4.  Dinner  being  ended,  our  Lord  more  particu- 
larly addressed  himself  to  Peter,  urging  him  to  the 
utmost  diligence  in  his  care  of  souls  :  and  because 
he  knew  that  nothing  but  a  mighty  love  to  himself 
could  carry  him  through  the  troubles  and  hazards 
of  so  dangerous  and  difficult  an  employment ;  an 
employment  attended  with  all  the  impediments 
which  either  the  perverseness  of  men,  or  the  ma- 
lice and  subtilty  of  the  devil  could  cast  in  the  way 
to  hinder  it ;  therefore  he  first  inquired  of  him, 
whether  he  loved  him  more  than  the  rest  of  the 
apostles,  herein  mildly  reproving  his  former  over- 
confident resolution,  that  "  though  all  the  rest 
should  deny  him,  yet  would  not  he  deny  him." 
Peter  modestly  replied,  not  censuring  others,  much 
less  preferring  himself  before  them,  that  our  Lord 
knew  the  integrity  of  his  affection  towards  him. 
This  question  he  puts  three  several  times  to  Peter 
who  as  often  returned  the  same  answer  :  it  being 
but  just  and  reasonable,  that  he  who  by  a  three- 
fold denial  had  given  so  much  cause  to  question, 
should  now  by  a  threefold  confession  give  more 
than  ordinary  assurance  of  his  sincere  afTection 
to  his  master.  Peter  was  a  little  troubled  at  this 
frequent  questioning  of  his  love,  and  therefore 
more  expressly  appeals  to  our  Lord's  omnisciency 


'  John  xxi.  3. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


that  he  who  knew  all  things  must  needs  know  that 
he  loved  him.  To  each  of  these  confessions  our 
Lord  added  this  signal  trial  of  his  affection  ;  then, 
"  Feed  my  sheep ;"  that  is,  faithfully  instruct  and 
teach  them,  carefully  rule  and  guide  them  ;  per- 
suade, not  compel  them  ;  feed,  not  fleece  nor  kill 
them.  And  so  it  is  plain  St.  Peter  himself  under- 
stood it.  by  the  charge  which  he  gives  to  the  guides 
and  rulers  of  the  church,  that  "  they  should  feed 
the  flock  of  God,  taking  the  oversight  thereof,  not 
by  constraint,  but  willingly  ;  not  for  filthy  lucre, 
but  of  a  ready  mind  ;  neither  as  being  lords  over 
God's  heritage,  but  as  examples  to  the  flock."* — 
But  that  by  feeding  Christ's  sheep  and  lambs, 
here  commanded  to  St.  Peter,  should  be  meant  a 
universal  and  uncontrollable  monarchy  and  domi- 
nion over  the  wliole  Christian  church,  and  that 
over  the  apostles  themselves  and  their  successors 
in  ordinary,  and  this  power  and  supermacy  solely 
invested  in  St.  Peter,  and  those  who  were  to  suc- 
ceed him  in  the  see  of  Rome,  is  so  wild  an  infer- 
ence, and  such  a  melting  down  words  to  run  into 
any  sliape,  as  could  never  with  any  face  have  been 
offered,  or  been  possible  to  have  been  imposed 
upon  the  belief  of  mankind,  if  men  had  not  first 
subdued  their  reason  to  their  interest,  and  capti- 
vated both  to  an  implicit  faith  and  a  blind  obedi- 
ence. For  granting  that  our  Lord  here  addressed 
his  speech  only  unto  Peter,  yet  the  very  same 
power,  in  equivalent  terms,  is  elsewhere  indifier- 
ently  granted  to  ail  the  apostles,  and  in  some  mea- 
sure to  the  ordinary  pastors  and  governors  of  the 
church  :  as  when  our  Lord  told  them,  that  "  all 
power"  was  given  him  "  in  heaven  and  in  earth," 
by  virtue  whereof  they  should  "  go  teach  and  bap- 
tize all  nations,"  and  "  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature:"  that  they  should  "feed  God's  flock, 
rule  well,"  inspect  and  "watch  over"  those  over 
whom  they  had  the  authority  and  rule.f  Words 
of  as  large  and  more  express  signification  than 
tliose  which  were  here  spoken  to  St.  Peter. 

5.  Our  Lord  having  thus  engaged  Peter  to  a 
cheerful  compliance  with  the  dangers  that  might 
attend  the  discharge  and  execution  of  his  office, 
now  particularly  intimates  to  him  what  that  fate 
was  that  should  attend  him  ;  telling  him,  that 
though  when  he  was  young  he  girt  himself,  lived 
at  his  own  pleasure,  and  went  whither  he  pleased ; 
yet  when  he  was  old  he  should  stretch  forth  his 
hands,  and  another  should  gu-d  and  bind  him,  and 
lead  him  whether  he  had  no  mind  to  go  ;  intimat- 
ing, as  the  evangelist  tells  us,  "  by  what  death  he 
should  glorify  God  ;"  that  is,  by  crucifixion,  the 
martyrdom  which  he  afterwards  underwent.  And 
then,  rising  up,  commanded  him  to  follow  him ; 
by  this  bodily  attendance  mystically  implying  his 
conformity  to  the  death  of  Christ,  that  he  should 
follow  him  in  dying  for  the  truth  and  testimony  of 
the  gospel.  It  was  not  long  after  that  our  Lord 
appeared  to  them,  to  take  his  last  farewell  of  them  ; 
when  leading  them  out  unto  Bethany,  a  little  vil- 
lage upon  the  mount  of  Olives,  he  briefly  told  them, 
that  they  were  the  persons  whom  he  had  chosen 
to  be  the  witnesses  both  of  his  death  and  resur- 
rection il  a  testimony  which  they  should  bear  to 
him  in  all  parts  of  the  world ;  in  order  to  which 


*  1  Pet.  v.  2,  3. 
t  Luke  xxiv.  50. 


t  Acts  i.  8. 


he  would,  after  his  ascension,  pour  out  his  Spirit 
upon  them  in  larger  measures  than  they  had  hi- 
therto  received,  that  they  might  be  the  better  forti, 
fied  to  grapple  with  that  violent  rage  and  fury 
wherewith  both  men  and  devils  would  endeavor 
to  oppose  them  ;  and  that  in  the  mean  time  they 
should  return  to  Jerusalem,  and  stay  till  these  mi- 
raculous powers  were  from  on  liigh  conferred  upon 
them.  His  discourse  being  ended,  laying  his 
hands  upon  them,  he  gave  them  his  solemn  bless- 
ing ;  which  done,  he  was  immediately  taken  from 
them,  and  being  attended  with  a  glorious  guard 
and  train  of  angels,  was  received  up  into  heaven. 
Antiquity  tells  us,  that  in  the  place  where  he  last 
trod  upon  the  rock,  the  impression  of  Iiis  feet  did 
remain,  which  could  never  afterwards  be  filled  up 
or  impaired  ;  over  which  Helena,  mother  of  the 
great  Constantino,  afterwards  built  a  little  chapel, 
called  the  Chapel  of  the  Ascension  ;  in  the  floor 
whereof,  npon  a  whitish  kind  of  stone,  modern  tra- 
vellers tell  us,  that  the  impression  of  his  foot  is 
showed  at  this  day  ;  but  it  is  that  of  his  right  foot 
only,  the  other  being  taken  away  by  the  Turks, 
and,  as  it  is  said,  kept  in  the  temple  at  Jerusalem. 
Our  Lord  being  thus  taken  from  them,  the  apos- 
tles were  filled  with  a  greater  sense  of  his  glory 
and  majesty  than  while  lie  was  wont  familiarly  to 
converse  with  them  ;  and  having  performed  their 
solemn  adorations  to  him,  returned  back  to  Jeru- 
salem, waiting  for  the  promise  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
which  was  shortly  after  conferred  upon  them. — 
"  They  worshipped  him,  and  returned  to  Jerusa- 
lem with  great  joy."*  They  who  lately  were 
overwhelmed  with  sorrow  at  the  very  mention  of 
their  Lord's  departure  from  them,  entertained  it; 
now  with  joy  and  triumph  ;  being  fully  satisfied 
of  his  glorious  advancement  at  God's  right  hand, 
and  of  that  particular  care  and  providence  which 
they  were  sure  he  would  exercise  towards  them, 
in  pursuance  of  those  great  trusts  he  had  com- 
mitted to  them. 


SECTION  vir. 

Of  St.  Peter's  Acts,  from  our  Lord's  Ascension 
till  the  Dispersion  of  the  Church. 

The  holy  Jesus  being  gone  to  heaven,  the  apos- 
tles began  to  act  according  to  the  power  and  com- 
mission he  had  left  with  them.  In  order  where- 
unto,  the  first  thing  they  did  after  his  ascension 
was  to  fill  up  the  vacancy  in  their  college,  lately 
made  by  the  unhappy  fall  and  apostacy  of  Judas. 
To  which  end,  no  sooner  were  they  returned  to 
Jerusalem,  but  they  went  tu  vnepuov,  "  into  an  up- 
per room."  Where  tliis  wepwov  was,  whether  in 
the  house  of  St.  John,  or  of  Mary,  John-Mark's 
mother,  or  in  some  of  the  out-rooms  belonging  to 
the  temple,  (for  the  temple  had  over  the  cloisters 
several  chambers  for  the  service  of  the  priests  and 
levites,  and  as  repositories  where  the  consecrated 
vessels  and  utensils  of  the  temple  were  laid  up ; 
though  it  be  not  probable  that  the  Jews,  and  es- 
pecially the  priests,  would  suffer  tlie  apostles  and 
their  company  to  be  so  near  the  temple,)  I  stand 

♦  Luke  xxiv.  52. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


36 


not  to  inquire.  It  is  certain  that  the  Jews  usually 
had  their  vncpu>a,  private  oratories,  m  the  upper 
parts  of  their  houses,  for  the  more  private  exer- 
cises of  their  devotions.     Thus  Daniel  had  his 
upper  chamber,*  (ra  vircpu>a   the   Seventy   render 
it,)  whither  he  was  wont  to  retire  to  pray  to  his 
God :  and  Benjamin  the  Jew  tells  us,  that  in  his 
time   (Ann.  Christ.  1172)  the  Jews   at  Babylon 
were   wont   to   pray  both   in  their  synagogues, 
"  and  in  that  ancient  upper  chamber  of  Daniel, 
which  the  prophet  himself  built."  Such  an  uTrtpuov, 
or  upper  chamber,  was  that  wherein  St.  Paul 
preached  at  Troas  ;t  and  such  probably  this  where 
the  apostles  were  now  met  together ;  and  in  all 
likelihood  the  same  where  our  Lord  had  lately 
kept  the  passover,  where  the  apostles  and  the 
church  were  assembled  on  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
and  which  was  then  the  usual  place  of  their  reli- 
gious assemblies,  as  we  have  elsewhere  observed 
more  at  large.     Here  tlie  church  being  met,  to 
the  number  of  about  a  hundred  and  twenty,  Pe- 
ter, as  president  of  the  assembly,  began  to  speak  ; 
and,  applying  himself  to  the  whole  congregation, 
proposed  to  them  the  choice  of  a  new  apostle. 
And  it  is  the  remark  which  St.  Chrysostom  makes 
upon  this  passage,  that  Peter  herein  would  do 
nothing  without  the  common  consent  and  appro- 
bation, assuming  no  peculiar  supereminent  power 
and  authority  to  himself.     He  put  them  in  mind 
that  Judas,  one  of  our  Lord's  apostles,  being  be- 
trayed by  his  own  covetous  and  insatiable  mind, 
had  lately  fallen  from  the  honor  of  his  place  and 
ministry  :J  that  this  was  no  more  than  what  the 
prophet  had  long  since  foretold  should  come  to 
pass ;  and   that   the   rule    and   oversight  in  the 
church,  which  had  been  committed  to  him,  should 
be  devolved  upon  another  ;  that  therefore  it  was 
highly  necessary  that  one  should  be  substituted 
in  his  room,  and  especially  such  a  one  as  had  been 
familiarly  conversant  with  our  Saviour,  from  first 
to  last,  that  so  he  might  be  a  competent  witness 
both  of  his  doctrine  and  miracles,   his   life   and 
death,  but  especially  of  his  resurrection  from  the 
dead.     For  seeing  no  evidence  is  so  valid  and  sa- 
tisfactory as  the  testimony  of  an  eye-witness,  the 
apostles  all  along  mainly  insisted  on  this,  that  they 
delivered  no  other  things  concerning  our  Saviour 
to  the  world  than  what  they  themselves  had  seen 
and  heard.     And  seeing  this  rising  from  the  dead 
was  a  principle  hkely  to  meet  with  a  great  deal 
of  opposition,  and  which  would  hardliest  gain  be- 
lief and  entertainment  with  the  minds  of  men, 
therefore  they  principally  urged  this  at  every  turn, 
that  "they  were  eye-witnesses  of  his  resurrec- 
tion," that  they  had  seen,  felt,  eaten,  and  fami- 
liarly conversed  with  him  after  his  return  from  the 
grave.     That  therefore  sucli  an  apostle  might  be 
chosen,  two  candidates  were  proposed,   Joseph, 
called   Barsabas,    and    Matthias.      And   having 
prayed  that   the   divine   Providence   would   im- 
mediately guide  and  direct  the  choice,  they  cast 
lots,  and  the  lot  fell  upon  Matthias,  who  was  ac- 
cordingly admitted  into  the  number  of  the  twelve 
apostles. 

2.  Fifty  days  since  the  last  passover  being  now 
run  out,  made  way  for  the  feast  of  Pentecost  ;t  at 
what  time  the  great  promise  of  the  Holy  Ghost 


was  fully  made  good  unto  them.     The  Christian 
assembly  being  met  together  for  the  public  services 
of  their  worship,  on  a  sudden  a  sound  like  that  of 
a  mighty  wind  rushed  in  upon  them  ;  representing 
the  powerful  efficacy  of  that  divine  Spirit  that  was 
now  to  be  communicated  to  them  :  after  which 
there  appeared  little  flames  of  fire,  which,  in  the 
fashion  of  cloven  tongues,  not  only  descended,  but 
sat  upon  each  of  them ;  probably  to  note  their 
perpetual  enjoyment  of  this  gift  upon   all  occa- 
sions, that  when  necessary  they  should  never  be 
without  it :  not   like   the   prophetic  gifts  of  old, 
which  were  conferred  but  sparingly,  and  only  at 
some  particular  times  and  seasons.     As  the  "  se- 
venty elders  prophesied  and  ceased  not  ;"*  but  it 
was  only  at  such  times  "  as  the  Spirit  came  down 
and  rested  upon  them."     Hereupon  they  were  all 
immediately  filled  with  the  Holy  GJiost,  which 
enabled  them  in  an  instant  to  speak  several  lan- 
guages which  they  had  never  learned,  and  proba- 
bly never  heard  of,  together  with  other  miraculous 
gifts   and  powers.     Thus  as  the  confounding  of 
languages  became  a  curse  to  the  old  world,  sepa- 
rating men  from  all  mutual  offices  of  kindness  and 
commerce,  rendering  one  part  of  mankind  barba- 
rians to  another ;  so  here,  the  multiplying  of  lan- 
guages became  a  blessing,  being  intended  as  the 
means  to  bring  men  of  all  nations  "  into  the  unity 
of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of 
God ;"  into  the   fellowship  of  that  religion  that 
would  banish  discords,  cement   diflferences,  and 
unite   men's  hearts  in  the  bond  of  peace.     The 
report  of  so  sudden  and  strange  an  action  pre- 
sently spread  itself  into  all  corners  of  the  city,  and 
there  being  at  that  time  at  Jerusalem  multitudes 
of  Jewish  proselytes,  "  devout  men  out  of  every 
nation  under  heaven,  Parthians,  Modes,  Elamites, 
(or  Persians,)  the  dwellers  in  Mesopotamia  and 
Juda>a,  Cappadocia,  Pontus,  and  Asia  Minor,  from 
Phrygia  and  Pamphylia,  from  Egypt  and  the  parts 
of  Libya  and   Cyrene,   from  Rome,  from  Crete, 
from  Arabia,  Jews  and  proselytes,  (probably  drawn 
thither   by  the   general   report  and  expectation 
which  had  spread  itself  over  all  the  eastern  parts, 
and  in  a  manner  over  all  places  of  the  Roman 
empire,  of  the  Jewish  Messiah   that  about  this 
time  should  be  born  at  Jerusalem,)  they  no  sooner 
heard  of  it,  but  universally  flocked  to  this  Chris- 
tian assembly  ;  where  they  were  amazed  to  hear 
these  Galileans  speaking  to  them  in  their  own  na- 
tive languages,  so  various,  so  vastly  different  from 
one  another.     And  it  could  not  but  exceedingly 
increase  the  wonder,  to  reflect  upon  the  meanness 
and  inconsiderableness  of  the  persons,  neither  as- 
sisted by  natural  parts,  nor  polished  by  education, 
nor  improved  by  use  and  custom ;  which  three 
things  philosophers  require  to  render  a  man  ac- 
curate and  extraordinary  in  any  art  or  discipline, 

ipvaii  ytip  avcv  naOtjaeus  tv0\ov  fiadijoig  6t^a  ^virtias 
tWinCi'    aoKriaii   ;y;upif   nynpoiv   aTt\ti,  sayS    Plutarch : 

"  Natural  disposition  without  instruction  is  blind  ; 
instruction  without  a  genius  and  disposition  is  de- 
fective ;  and  exercise  without  both  is  lame  and 
imperfect."  Whereas  these  disciples  had  not  one 
of  these  to  set  them  off;  their  parts  were  mean, 
below  the  rate  of  the  common  people  ;  the  Gali- 
leans being  generally  accounted  the  rudest  and 


Dan.  vi.20.  tActsxx.8.   tAnsi.  15.  llActsii.l. 


*  Numb.  xi.  25. 


LIVES    OP    THE  -APOSTLES. 


37 


most  stupid  of  the  whole  Jewish  nation :  their 
eduaction  had  been  no  higher  than  to  catch  fish, 
and  to  mend  nets  ;  nor  had  they  been  used  to 
plead  causes,  or  to  deliver  themselves  before  great 
assemblies  ;  but  spoke  on  a  sudden,  not  premedi- 
tated discourses,  not  idle  stories,  or  wild  roving 
fancies,  but  the  great  and  admirable  works  of 
God,  and  the  mysteries  of  the  gospel,  beyond  hu- 
man apprehensions  to  find  out ;  and  this  delivered 
in  almost  all  the  languages  of  the  then  known 
world.  Men  were  severally  affected  with  it,  ac- 
cording to  tlieir  different  tempers  and  apprehen- 
sions. Some  admiring,  and  not  knowing  what  to 
think  of  it ;  others  deriding  it,  said  that  it  was 
nothing  else  but  the  wild  raving  effect  of  drunk- 
enness and  intemperance.  At  so  wild  a  rate  are 
men  of  profane  minds  wont  to  talk,  when  they 
take  upon  them  to  pass  then-  censure  in  the  things 
of  God. 

3.  Hereupon  the  apostles  rose  up,  and  Peter,  in 
the  name  of  the  rest,  took  this  occasion  of  dis- 
coursing to  them.  He  told  them  that  this  scan- 
dalous slander  proceeded  from  the  spirit  of  mahce 
and  falsehood  ;  that  their  censure  was  as  unchari- 
table as  it  was  unreasonable  ;  that  "  they  that 
are  drunken  are  drunk  in  the  night ;"  that  it  was 
against  nature  and  custom  for  men  to  bo  in  drink 
so  soon,  too  early  for  such  a  suspicion  to  take 
place,  it  being  now  but  about  nine  of  the  clock,  the 
hour  for  morning  prayer,  till  when  men  even  of 
ordinary  sobriety  and  devotion,  on  festival  days 
were  wont  to  fast.  Thattliese  extraordinary  and 
miraculous  passages  were  but  the  accomplishment 
of  an  ancient  prophecy,  the  fulfilling  of  what  God 
had  e.xpressly  foretold  should  come  to  pass  in  the 
times  of  the  Messiah  ;  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
liad  evidently  approved  himself  to  be  the  Messiah 
sent  from  God  by  many  unquestionable  miracles, 
of  wiiichthey  themselves  had  been  eye-witnesses  ; 
and  though,  by  God's  permission,  who  had  de- 
termined by  this  means  to  bring  about  the  salva- 
tion of  mankind,  they  had  wickedly  crucified  and 
slain  him,  yet  that  God  had  raised  him  from  the 
dead  :  that  it  was  not  possible  he  should  be  holden 
always  under  the  dominion  of  the  grave ;  nor  was 
it  consistent  with  the  justice  and  goodness  of  God, 
and  especially  with  those  divine  predictions  whicb 
had  e.xpressly  foretold  he  should  rise  again  from 
the  dead  ;  David  having  more  particularly  fore- 
told that  his  "  flesh  should  rest  in  hope ;"  that 
"God  would  not  leave  his  soul  in  hell,  neither 
suffer  his  Holy  One  to  see  corruption;"  but 
"would  make  known  to  him  the  ways  of  hfe;" 
that  this  prophecy  could  not  be  meant  concerning 
David  himself,  by  whom  it  was  spoken,  he  having 
many  ages  since  been  turned  to  ashes,  his  body 
resolved  into  rottenness  and  putrefaction,  liis 
tomb  yet  visible  among  tliera,  from  whence  he 
never  did  return ;  that  therefore  it  must  needs  have 
been  prophetically  spoken  concerning  Christ, 
having  never  been  truly  fulfilled  in  any  but  him, 
who  both  died,  and  was  risen  again,  whereof  they 
were  witnesses.  Yea,  that  he  was  not  only  risen 
from  the  dead,  but  had  ascended  into  heaven,  and, 
according  to  David's  prediction,  "sat  down  on 
God's  right  hand,  until  he  made  his  enemies  his 
footstool :"  which  could  not  be  primarily  meant  of 
David,  he  never  having  yet  bodily  ascended  into 
heaven :  that  therefore  the  whole  house  of  Israel 


ought  to  believe,  and  take  notice,  that  this  very 
Jesus,  whom  they  had  crucified,  was  the  person 
whom  God  had  appointed  to  be  the  Messiah  and 
the  Saviour  of  his  church. 

4.  This  discourse,  in  every  part  of  it,  like  so 
many  daggers,  pierced  them  to  the  heart ;  who 
thereupon  cried  out  to  Peter  and  his  brethren  to 
luiow  what  they  sliould  do.  Peter  told  them,  that 
there  was  no  other  way,  than  by  a  hearty  and 
sincere  repentance,  and  a  being  baptized  into  the 
religion  of  this  crucified  Saviour,  to  expiate  their 
guilt,  to  obtain  pardon  of  sin,  and  the  gifts  and 
benefits  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  That  upon  these 
terms  the  promises  of  the  new  covenant,  v.hich 
was  ratified  by  the  death  of  Christ,  did  belong  to 
them  and  their  children,  and  to  all  that  should  ef- 
fectually believe  and  embrace  the  gospel :  farther 
pressing  and  persuading  them,  by  doing  tlius,  to 
save  themselves  from  that  unavoidable  ruin  and 
destruction,  which  this  wicked  and  untoward  ge- 
neration of  obstinate,  unbelieving  Jews  were 
shortly  to  be  exposed  to.  The  effects  of  his 
preaching  were  strange  and  wonderful :  "  as  many 
as  believed  were  baptized  ;"  there  being  "  that 
day  added  to  the  church,"  no  less  than  "  three 
thousand  souls."  A  quick  and  plentiful  harvest ; 
the  late  sufferings  of  our  Saviour,  as  yet  fresii 
bleeding  in  their  memories,  the  present  miracu- 
lous powers  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  appeared 
upon  them,  the  zeal  of  his  auditors,  tiiough  here- 
tofore misplaced  and  misguided  ;  and  above  all, 
the  efficacy  of  divine  grace,  contributing  to  this 
numerous  conversion. 

5.  Though  the  converting  so  vast  a  multitude 
might  justly  challenge  a  place  amongst  the  great- 
est'miracles,  yet  the  apostles  began  now  more 
particularly  to  exercise  their  miraculous  power. 
Peter  and  John,*  going  up  to  the  temple,  about 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  towards  the  con- 
clusion of  one  of  the  solemn  hours  of  prayer,  (for 
the  Jews  divided  tlieir  day  into  four  greater  hours, 
each  quarter  containing  three  lesser  under  it, 
three  of  which  were  public  and  stated  times  of 
prayer,  instituted  (say  they)  by  the  three  great 
patriarchs  of  their  nation;  the  first,  from  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning  till  nine,  called  hence  "the 
third  hour  of  the  day,"  instituted  by  Abraham  ; 
this  was  called  morning  prayer  :  the  second  from 
nine  till  twelve,  called  "  the  sixth  hour,"  and  this 
hour  of  prayer  ordained  by  Isaac  ;  this  was  called 
«  mid-day  prayer  :"  the  third,  from  twelve  to  three 
in  the  afternoon,  called  "the  ninth  hour,"  appointed 
by  Jacob,  called  "  evening  prayer;")  and  at  this 
hour  it  was,  that  these  two  apostles  went  up  to 
the  temple,  where  they  found  a  poor  impotent 
cripple,  who,  though  above  forty  years  old,  had 
been  lame  from  his  birth,  lying  "  at  the  beautiful 
gate  of  the  temple,"  and  asking  an  alms  of  them. 
Peter,  earnestly  looking  on  him,  told  him  he  had 
no  money  to  give  him  ;  but  that  he  would  give 
him  that  whicli  was  a  jrreat  deal  better,  restore 
him  to  his  health  ;  and  lifting  him  up  by  the  hand, 
commanded  him  "  in  the  name  of  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth, to  rise  up  and  walk."  The  word  was  no 
sooner  said,  than  the  thing  was  done :  immedi- 
ately the  nerves  and  sinews  were  enlarged,  and 
the  joints  returned  to  their  proper  use.     The  man, 

♦  Acts  iii.  1. 


38 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


standin'^  up,  went  into  the  temple,  walking,  leap- 
ing, and  praising  God.  The  beholding  so  sudden 
and  extraordinary  a  cure,  begot  great  admiration 
in  the  minds  of  the  people,  whose  curiosity  drew 
them  to  the  apostles  to  see  those  who  had  been 
the  authors  of  it.  Which  Peter  taking  notice  of, 
began  to  discourse  to  them  to  this  effect :  That 
there  was  no  reason  they  should  wonder  at  them, 
as  if  by  their  own  skill  and  art  they  had  wrought 
this  cure,  it  being  entirely  done  in  the  name  of 
their  crucified  master,  by  the  power  of  that  very 
Christ,  that  holy  and  just  person,  whom  they 
themselves  had  denied,  and  delivered  up  to  Pilate, 
and  preferred  a  rebel  and  a  murderer  before  him, 
when  his  judge  was  resolved  to  acquit  him  :  and 
that  though  they  had  put  him  to  death,  yet  that 
they  were  witnesses,  that  God  had  raised  him 
up  again,  and  that  he  was  gone  to  heaven,  where 
he  must  remain  till  the  times  of  the  general  resti- 
tution. That  he  presumed  that  this  in  them,  as 
also  in  their  rulers,  was,  in  a  great  measure,  the 
effect  of  ignorance,  and  the  not  being  thoroughly 
convinced  of  the  greatness  and  divinity  of  his 
person ;  which  yet  God  made  use  of  for  the  bring- 
ing about  his  wise  and  righteous  designs,  the  ac- 
complishing of  what  he  had  foretold  concerning 
Christ's  person  and  sufferings,  by  Moses  and 
Samuel,  and  all  "the  holy  prophets  which  had 
been  since  the  world  began."  That  therefore  it 
was  now  high  time  for  them  to  repent  and  turn  to 
God,  that  theii'  great  wickedness  might  be  expi- 
ated, and  that  v^hen  Christ  should  shortly  come 
in  judgment  upon  the  Jewish  nation,  that  might 
be  a  time  of  comfort  and  refreshing  to  them,  which 
woud  be  one  of  vengeance  and  destruction  to 
other  men  :  that  they  were  the  peculiar  persons 
to  whom  the  blessings  of  the  promises  did  pri- 
marily appertain,  and  unto  whom  God,  in  the  first 
place,  sent  his  Son,  that  he  miglit  derive  his  bless- 
ing upon  them,  by  "  turning  them  away  from  their 
iniquities."  While  Peter  was  thus  discoursing 
to  the  peop]f>  in  one  place,  we  may  suppose  tliat 
.Tohn  was  preaching  to  them  in  another ;  and  the 
success  was  answerable :  the  apostles  cast  out  the 
seed,  and  God  immediately  "gave  the  increase." 
There  being,  by  this  means,  no  fewer  than  five 
thousand  brought  over  to  the  faith  :*  though  it  is 
possible  tiio  whole  body  of  believers  might  be 
comprehended  in  that  number. 

6.  While  the  apostles  were  thus  preaching,  the 
priests  and  Sadduceesf  (who  particularly  appeared 
in  this  business,  as  being  enemies  to  all  tumults, 
or  whatever  might  disturb  their  present  ease  and 
quiet,  the  only  portion  of  happiness  they  expected  ; 
besides  that  they  hated  Christianity,  because  so 
expressly  assorting  the  resurrection,)  being  vexed 
to  hear  this  doctrine  vented  amongst  the  people, 
intimaled  to  the  magistrate,  that  this  concourse 
might  probably  tend  to  an  uproar  and  insurrection  ; 
whereupon  tliey  came  with  the  captain  of  the 
temple,  (commander  of  the  tower  of  Antonia, 
whicli  stood  close  by,  on  the  north  side  of  the 
temple  ;  wherein  was  a  Roman  garrison  to  pre- 
vent or  suppress,  especially  at  festival  times,  popu- 
lar tumults  and  uproars,)  who  seized  on  the  apos- 
ties,  and  put  them  into  prison.  The  next  day  they 
were  convented  before  the  Jewish  Sanhedrim; 


♦  Actsiv.  4. 


t  Verse  1. 


and  being  asked  by  what  power  and  authority 
they  had  done  this,  Peter  resolutely  answered, 
that  as  to  the  cure  done  to  this  impotent  person, 
it  should  be  known  to  tliem  and  all  the  Jews,  that 
it  was  perfectly  wrought  in  the  name  of  that  Je- 
sus of  Nazareth  whom  they  themselves  had  cru- 
cified, and  God  had  raised  from  the  dead;  and 
whom,  though  they  had  thrown  him  by  as  waste 
and  rubbish,  yet  God  had  made  "head  of  the 
corner ;"  and  that  there  was  no  otlier  way  where- 
in they,  or  others,  could  expect  salvation,  but  by 
this  crucified  Saviour.  Great  was  the  boldness 
of  the  apostles,  admired  by  the  Sanhedrim  itself, 
in  this  matter ;  especially  if  we  consider  that  this 
probably  was  the  very  court  that  had  so  lately 
sentenced  and  condemned  their  master ;  and 
being  fleshed  in  such  sanguinary  proceedings,  had 
no  other  way  but  to  go  on  and  to  justify  one  cruelty 
by  another :  that  the  apostles  did  not  say  these 
things  in  corners  and  behind  the  curtain,  but  to 
their  very  faces,  and  that  in  the  open  court  of  ju- 
dicature, and  before  all  the  people.  That  the 
apostles  had  not  been  used  to  plead  in  such  pub- 
lic places,  nor  had  been  polished  with  the  arts  of 
education,  but  were  ignorant,  unlearned  men, 
known  not  to  be  versed  in  the  study  of  the  Jewish 
law. 

7.  The  council  (which  all  this  while  had  be- 
held them  witli  a  kind  of  wonder,  and  now  re- 
membered that  they  had  been  the  companions  and 
attendants  of  the  late  crucified  Jesus)  commanded 
them  to  vuithdraw  ;  and  debated  amongst  them- 
selves what  they  should  do  with  them.  The  mi- 
racle they  could  not  deny,  the  fact  being  so  plain 
and  evident :  and  therefore  resolved  strictly  to 
charge  them  that  they  should  preach  no  more  in 
the  name  of  Jesus.  Being  called  in  again,  they 
acquainted  them  with  the  resolution  of  the  coun- 
cil ;  to  which  Peter  and  John  replied,  that  they 
could  by  no  means  yield  obedience  to  it ;  appeal- 
ing to  themselves,  whether  it  was  not  more  fit 
that  they  should  "  obey  God  rather  than"  them  : 
and  that  they  could  not  but  "  testify  what  they 
had  seen  and  heard."  Nor  did  they  in  this 
answer  make  any  undue  reflection  upon  the 
power  of  the  magistrates,  and  the  obedience  due 
to  them ;  it  being  a  ruled  case,  by  the  first  dic- 
tates of  reason,  and  the  common  vote  and  suf- 
frage of  mankind,  that  parents  and  governors  are 
not  to  be  obeyed  when  their  commands  interfere 
with  the  obligations  under  which  we  stand  to  a 
superior  power.  All  authority  is  originally  de- 
rived from  God,  and  our  duty  to  him  may  not  be 
superseded  by  the  laws  of  any  authority  deriving 
from  him.  And  even  Socrates  himself,  in  a  pa- 
rallel instance,  when  persuaded  to  leave  off  his 
excellent  way  of  institution  and  instructing  youth, 
and  to  comply  with  the  humor  of  his  Athenian 
judgfes  to  save  his  life,  returned  this  answer: 
"That  indeed  he  loved  and  honored  the  Athenians, 
but  yet  resolved  to  obey  God  rather  than  them." 
An  answer  almost  the  same,  both  in  substance 
and  words,  with  that  which  was  here  given  by  our 
apostles.  In  all  other  cases,  where  the  laws  of 
the  magistrate  did  not  interfere  with  the  com- 
mands of  Christ,  none  more  loyal,  none  more 
compliant  than  they.  As,  indeed,  no  religion  in 
the  world  ever  secured  the  interests  of  civil  au- 
thority like  the  religion  of  the  gospel.     It  posi- 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


39 


lively  charges  "  every  sou],"  of  what  rank  or  con- 
dition soever,  "  to  be  subject  to  the  higher  powers," 
as  a  divine  ordinance  and  institution  ;  and  that 
"not  for  wrath  only,  but  for  conscience'  sake:" 
it  "  puts  men  in  mind  to  be  subject  to  principali- 
ties and  powers,  and  obey  magistrates  :  to  submit 
to  every  ordinance  of  man  for  the  Lord's  sake, 
both  to  the  king  as  supreme,  and  unto  governors 
as  unto  them  that  are  sent  by  him  ;  for  so  is  the 
wdl  of  God."  So  far  is  it  from  allowing  us  to 
violate  their  persons,  that  it  suffers  us  not  boldly 
to  censure  their  actions,  "  to  revile  the  gods,  de- 
epise  dominions,  and  speak  evU  of  dignities  ;"  or 
to  vilify  and  injure  them  so  much  as  by  a  disho- 
norable thought ;  commanding  us,  when  we  can- 
not obey,  to  suffer  the  most  rigorous  penalties  im- 
posed upon  us  with  calmness,  and  "  to  possess 
our  souls  with  patience."  Thus  when  these  two 
apostles  were  shortly  after  again  summoned  be- 
fore the  council,  commanded  no  more  to  preach 
the  Christian  doctrine,  and  to  be  scourged  for 
what  they  had  done  already,  tliough  they  could 
not  obey  the  one,  they  cheerfully  submitted  to  the 
other,  without  any  peevish  or  tart  reflections,  but 
went  away  rejoicing.  But  what  the  carriage  of 
Christians  was  in  this  matter,  in  the  first  and  best 
ages  of  the  gospel,  we  have  in  another  place*  suf- 
ficiently discovered  to  the  world.  We  may  not 
withhold  our  obedience,  till  the  magistrate  in- 
vades God's  throne,  and  countermands  his  authori- 
ty ;  and  may  then  appeal  to  the  sense  of  man- 
kind, whether  it  be  not  most  reasonable  that  God's 
authority  should  first  take  place,  as  the  apostles 
here  appealed  to  their  very  judges  themselves. 
Nor  do  we  find  that  the  Sanhedrim  did  except 
against  the  plea.  At  least,  whatever  they  thought, 
yet  not  daring  to  punish  them  for  fear  of  the  peo- 
ple, they  only  threatened  them,  and  let  them  go: 
who  thereupon  presently  returned  to  the  rest  of 
the  apostles  and  believers. 

8.  The  church  exceedingly  multiplied  by  these 
means  :  and  that  so  great  a  company,  most  where- 
of were  poor,  might  be  maintained,  they  generally 
sold  their  estates,  and  brought  the  money  to  the 
af^istles,  to  be  by  them  deposited  in  one  common 
treasury,  and  thence  distributed  according  to  the 
several  exigencies  of  the  church ;  which  gave  oc- 
casion to  this  dreadful  instance  :  Ananias  and  his 
wife  Sapphira,t  having  taken  upon  them  the  pro- 
fession of  the  gospel,  according  to  the  free  and 
generous  spirit  of  those  times,  had  consecrated  and 
devoted  their  estate  to  the  honor  of  God  ;  and  the 
necessities  of  the  church ;  and  accordingly  sold 
their  possessions,  and  turned  them  into  money. 
But  as  they  were  willing  to  gain  the  reputation  of 
charitable  persons,  so  were  they  loath  wholly  to 
cast  themselves  upon  the  Divine  Providence,  by 
letting  go  all  at  once;  and  therefore  privately 
withheld  part  of  what  they  had  devoted,  and 
bringing  the  rest,  laid  it  at  the  apostles'  feet ; 
hoping  herein  they  might  deceive  the  apostles, 
though  immediately  guided  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 
But  Peter,  at  his  first  coming  in,  treated  Ananias 
with  these  sharp  inquiries :  why  he  would  suffer 
Satan  to  fill  his  heart  with  so  big  a  wickedness,  as 
by  keeping  back  of  his  estate,  "  to  think  to  deceive 


*  Primitive  Christianity,  part  iii.  chap.  4. 
tActs  v.  1. 

87  20 


the  Holy  Ghost  V  That  before  it  was  sold  it  was 
wholly  at  his  own  disposure  ;  and  after,  it  was  per- 
fectly in  his  own  power  fully  to  have  performed 
his  vow  :  so  that  it  was  capable  of  no  other  inter- 
pretation, than  tiiat  Iierein  he  had  not  only  abused 
and  injured  men,  but  mocked  God,  and,  what  in 
him  lay,  bed  to,  and  cheated  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
who,  he  knew,  was  privy  to  the  most  secret 
thoughts  and  purposes  of  his  heart.  This  was  no 
sooner  said,  but  suddenly,  to  the  great  terror  and 
amazement  of  all  that  were  present,  Ananias  was 
arrested  with  a  stroke  from  heaven,  and  fell  down 
dead  to  the  ground.  Not  long  after,  his  wife  came 
in,  whom  Peter  entertained  with  the  same  severe 
reproofs  wherewith  he  had  addressed  her  husband ; 
adding,  that  the  like  sad  fate  and  doom  should  im- 
mediately seize  upon  her ;  who  thereupon  dropped 
down  dead ;  thus,  as  she  had  been  co-partner  with 
him  in  the  sin,  becoming  sharer  with  him  in  the 
punishment.  An  instance  of  great  severity,  fill, 
ing  all  that  heard  of  it  with  fear  and  terror,  and 
acting  as  a  seasonable  prevention  of  that  hypo- 
crisy and  dissimulation  wherewith  many  might 
possibly  think  to  have  imposed  upon  the  church. 

9.  This  severe  case  being  extraordinary,  the 
apostles  usually  exerted  their  power  in  such  mira- 
cles as  were  more  useful  and  beneficial  to  the 
world ;  ciuing  all  manner  of  diseases,  and  dispos- 
sessing devils  ;  insomuch  that  they  brought  the 
sick  into  the  streets,  and  laid  them  upon  beds  and 
couches,  that  at  least  Peter's  shadow,  as  he  pass- 
ed by,  might  come  upon  them.*     These  astonish- 
ing miracles  could  not  but  mightily  contribute  to 
the  propagation  of  the  gospel,   and  convince  the 
world  that  the  apostles  were  more  considerable 
persons  than  they  took  them   for;   poverty  and 
meanness  being  no  bar  to  true  worth  and  great- 
ness.    And,   methinks,    Erasmus's   reflection   is 
here  not  unseasonable :  that  no  honor  or  sove- 
reignty, no  power  or  dignity  was  comparable  to 
this  glory  of  the  apostle ;  that  the  things  of  Christ, 
though  in  another  way,  were  more  noble  and  ex- 
cellent than  any  thing  that  this  world  could  af- 
ford.    And  therefore  he  tells  us,  that  when  he  be- 
held the  state  and  magnificence  wherewith  pope 
Julius  ]l.  appeared,  first  at  Bononia  and  then  at 
Rome,  equalling  the  triumphs  of  a  Pompey  or  a 
Caesar,  he  could  not  but  think  how  much  all  thia 
was  below  the  greatness  and  majesty  of  St.  Pe- 
ter ;  who  converted  the  world,  not  by  power  or 
armies,  not  by  engines  or  artifices  of  pomp  and 
grandeur,  but  by  faith  in  the  power  of  Christ,  and 
drew  it  to  the  admiration  of  himself :  and  the  same 
state  (says  he)  would  no  doubt  attend  the  apos- 
tles' successors,  were  they  rnen  of  the  same  tem- 
per and  holiness  of  life.      The  Jewish   rulers, 
alarmed  with  this  news,  and  awakened  with  the 
growing  numbers  of  the  church,  send  to  appre- 
hend the  apostles,  and  cast  them  into  prison.    But 
God,  who  is  never  wanting  to  his  own  cause,  des- 
patched that  night  an  angel  from  heaven  to  open 
the  prison  doors,  commanding  them  to  repair  to 
the  temple,  and  to  the  e.xercise  of  their  ministry; 
which  they  did  early  in  the  morning,  and  there 
taught  the  people.     How  unsuccessful  are  the 
projects  of  the  wisest  statesmen,  when  God  frowns 
upon  them !  how  little  do  any  counsels  against 

♦  Acts  V.  15. 


40 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


heaven  prosper !  In  vain  is  it  to  shut  the  doors 
where  God  is  resolved  to  open  them :  the  firmest 
bars,  the  strongest  chains  cannot  hold,  when  once 
God  has  designed  and  decreed  our  liberty.  The 
officers  returning  the  next  morning,  found  the  pri- 
son shut  and  guarded,  but  the  prisoners  gone : 
wherewitJi  they  acquainted  the  council,  who  much 
wondered  at  it ;  but  being  told  where  the  apostles 
were,  they  sent  to  bring  them,  without  any  noise 
or  violence,  before  the  Sanhedrim ;  where  the 
high-priest  asked  them  how  they  durst  go  on  to 
propagate  that  doctrine,  which  they  had  so  strict- 
ly commanded  them  not  to  preach?  Peter,  in  the 
name  of  the  rest,  told  them  that  they  must  in  this 
case  "obey  God  rather  than  men:"  that  though 
they  had  so  barbarously  and  contumeliously  treat- 
ed the  Lord  Jesus,  yet  that  God  had  raised  him 
up,  and  exalted  him  to  be  "a  Prince  and  a  Sa- 
viour," to  give  both  "  repentance  and  remission  of 
sins  :"  that  they  were  witnesses  of  these  things, 
and  BO  were  those  miraculous  powers  which  the 
Holy  Ghost  conferred  upon  all  true  Christians. 
Vexed  was  the  council  with  this  answer,  and  be- 
gan to  consider  how  to  cut  them  oft'.  But  Ga- 
maliel, a  grave  and  learned  senator,  having  com- 
manded the  apostles  to  withdraw,  bade  the  coun- 
cil take  heed  what  they  did  to  them ;  putting  them 
in  mind,  that  several  persons  had  heretofore  raised 
parties  and  factions,  and  drawn  vast  numbers 
after  them,  but  that  they  had  miscarried,  and  they 
and  their  designs  come  to  nought :  that  therefore 
they  should  do  well  to  let  these  men  alone :  that 
if  their  doctrines  and  designs  were  merely  human, 
they  would,  in  time,  of  themselves  fall  to  the 
ground ;  but  if  they  were  of  God,  it  was  not  aU 
their  power  and  policies  would  be  able  to  defeat 
and  overturn  them;  and  that  they  themselves 
would  herein  appear  to  oppose  the  councils  and 
designs  of  heaven  :  with  this  prudent  and  rational 
advice  they  were  satisfied ;  and  having  command- 
ed the  apostles  to  be  scourged,  and  charged  them 
no  more  to  preach  this  doctrine,  restored  them  to 
their  liberty:  who,  notwithstanding  this  charge 
and  threatening,  returned  home  in  a  kind  of  tri- 
umph, that  theywere  accounted  worthy  to  suffer 
in  so  good  a  cause,  and  to  undergo  shame  and  re- 
proach for  the  sake  of  so  good  a  master.  Nor 
could  all  the  hard  usage  they  met  with  from  men 
discourage  them  in  their  duty  to  God,  or  make 
them  less  zealous  and  diligent  both  publicly  and 
privately  to  preach  Christ  in  every  place. 


SECTION  VIII. 

Of  St.  Peter's  Acts,  from  the  dispersion  of  the 
Church  at  Jerusalem  till  his  contest  with  St. 
Paul  at  Antioch. 

The  church  had  been  hitherto  tossed  with  gentle 
storms ;  but  now  a  more  violent  tempest  overtook 
It,  which  began  in  the  proto-martyr  Stephen,*  and 
was  more  vigorously  carried  on  afterwards ;  by 
occasion  whereof  the  disciples  were  dispersed. 
And  God,  who  always  brings  good  out  of  evil,  here- 
by provided  that  the  gospel  should  not  be  confined 


Acts  viii.  1. 


only  to  Jerusalem.  Hitherto  the  church  had  been 
crowded  up  within  the  city  walls,  and  the  rehgion 
had  crept  up  and  down  in  private  corners  ;  but  the 
professors  of  it,  being  now  dispersed  abroad  by 
the  malice  and  cruelty  of  their  enemies,  carried 
Christianity  along  with  them,  and  propagated  it  into 
the  neighboring  countries ;  accomplishing  here- 
by an  ancient  prophecy,  that  "  out  of  Sion  should 
go  forth  the  law,  and  the  word  of  the  Lord  from 
Jerusalem."*  Thus  God  overrules  the  maHce  of 
men,  and  makes  intended  poison  to  become  food 
or  physic.  That  Divine  Providence  that  governs 
the  world,  more  particularly  superintends  the  af- 
fairs and  interests  of  his  church,  so  that  no  wea- 
pon formed  against  Israel  shall  prosper;  curses 
shall  be  turned  into  blessings,  and  that  become  an 
eminent  means  to  enlarge  and  propagate  the  gos- 
pel, which  they  designed  as  the  only  way  to  sup- 
press and  stifle  it.  Amongst  those  that  were 
scattered,  Philip  the  deacon  was  driven  down  unto 
Samaria,  where  he  preached  the  gospel,  and  con- 
firmed his  preaching  by  many  miraculous  cures, 
and  dispossessing  devils.  In  this  city  there  was 
one  Simon,  who  by  magic  arts  and  diabolical  sor- 
ceries sought  to  advance  himself  into  a  great  fame 
and  reputation  with  the  people,  insomuch  that 
they  generally  beheld  him  as  the  great  power  of 
God ;  for  so  the  ancients  tell  us  he  used  to  style 
himself;  giving  out  himself  to  be  the  first  and 
chiefest  Deity,  the  Father  who  is  God  over  all : 
that  is,  that  he  was  that  which  in  every  nation 
was  accounted  the  supreme  Deity.  This  man, 
hearing  the  sermons,  and  beholding  the  miracles 
that  were  done  by  Philip,  presented  himself 
amongst  the  numbers  of  believers,  and  was  bap- 
tized with  thorn.  The  apostles,  who  yet  remain- 
ed at  Jerusalem,  having  heard  of  the  great  suc- 
cess of  Philip's  ministry  at  Samaria,  thought  good 
to  send  some  of  their  number  to  his  assistance ; 
and  accordingly  deputed  Peter  and  John,  who 
came  thither :  where  having  prayed  for,  and  laid 
theii-  hands  upon  these  new  converts,  they  pre- 
sently received  the  Holy  Ghost.  Simon  the  ma- 
gician observing,  that  by  laying  on  of  the  apostle's 
hands,  miraculous  gifts  were  conferred  upon  men, 
offered  them  a  considerable  sum  of  money  to  in- 
vest him  with  this  power,  that  on  whom  he  laid 
his  hands  they  might  receive  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Peter,  perceiving  his  rotten  and  insincere  inten- 
tions, rejected  his  impious  motion  with  scorn  and 
detestation:  "Thy money  perish  with  thee."  He 
told  him  that  his  heart  was  naught  and  hypocriti- 
cal ;  that  he  could  have  no  share  nor  portion  in 
so  great  a  privilege ;  that  it  more  concerned  him 
to  repent  of  so  great  a  wickedness,  and  sincerely 
seek  to  God,  that  so  the  thought  of  his  heart 
might  be  forgiven  him  ;  for  that  he  perceived  that 
he  had  a  very  vicious  and  corrupt  temper  and  con- 
stitution of  mind,  and  was  as  yet  bound  up  under 
a  very  wretched  and  miserable  state,  displeasing 
to  God,  and  dangerous  to  himself.  The  con- 
science of  the  man  was  a  little  startled  with  this, 
and  he  prayed  the  apostles  to  intercede  with  hea- 
ven, that  God  would  pardon  his  sin,  and  that  nono 
of  these  things  might  fall  upon  him.  But  how 
little  cure  this  wrouglit  upon  him  we  shall  find 
elsewhere,  when  we  shall  again  meet  with  him 


*  Isaiah  ii.  3. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


41 


afterwards.  The  apostles  having  thus  confirmed 
the  church  at  Samaria,  and  preached  up  and 
down  in  the  villages  thereabouts,  returned  back  to 
Jerusalem,  to  join  their  counsel  and  assistance  to 
the  rest  of  the  apostles. 

2.  The  storm,  though  violent,  being  at  Isngth 
blown  over,  the  church  enjoyed  a  time  of  great 
calmness  and  serenity ;  during  which  Peter  went 
out  to  visit  the  churches  lately  planted  in  those 
parts,  by  those  disciples  who  had  been  dispersed 
by  the  persecution  at  Jerusalem.  Coming  down 
to  Lydda,  the  first  thing  he  did  was  to  work  a 
cure  upon  one  ^neas,  who  being  crippled  with 
the  palsy,  had  Iain  bedrid  for  eight  years  together. 
Peter  coming  to  him,  bade  him  in  the  name  of 
Christ  to  arise  ;  and  the  man  was  immediately  re- 
stored to  perfect  health.*  A  miracle  that  was  not 
confined  only  to  his  person,  but  being  known 
abroad,  generally  brought  over  the  inhabitants  of 
that  place.  The  fame  of  this  miracle  having  flown 
to  Joppa,  a  seaport  town  some  six  miles  thence, 
the  Christians  there  presently  sent  for  Peter  on 
this  occasion.  Tabitha,  whose  Greek  name  was 
Dorcas,  a  woman  venerable  for  her  piety  and  dif- 
fusive charity,  was  newly  dead,  to  the  great  la- 
mentation of  all  good  men,  and  much  more  to  the 
loss  of  the  poor  that  had  been  relieved  by  her. 
Peter,  coming  to  the  house,  found  her  dressed  up 
for  her  funeral  solemnity,  and  compassed  about 
with  the  sorrowful  widows,  who  shov/ed  the  coats 
and  garments  wherewith  she  had  clothed  them, 
the  badges  of  her  charitable  hberality.  Peter, 
shuttmg  all  out,  kneeled  down  and  prayed ;  and 
then  turning  him  to  the  body,  commanded  her  to 
arise ;  and  lifting  her  up  by  the  hand,  presented 
her  in  perfect  health  to  her  friends  and  those  that 
were  about  her ;  by  whicli  he  confirmed  many, 
and  converted  more  to  the  faith.  After  which  he 
staid  some  considerable  time  at  Joppa,  lodging  in 
the  house  of  Simon  a  tanner. 

3.  While  he  abode  in  this  city,  retiring  one 
morning  to  the  house-top  to  pray,t  (as  the  Jews 
frequently  did,  having  thence  a  free  and  open 
prespect  towards  Jerusalem  and  the  temple,)  it 
being  now  near  noon,  which  was  the  conclusion 
of  one  of  their  stated  times  of  prayer,  he  found 
iiimsclf  hungry,  and  called  for  meat ;  but  wliile  it 
was  preparing,  he  iiimself  fell  into  a  trance, 
wherein  was  represented  to  him  a  large  sheet  let 
down  from  heaven,  containing  all  sorts  of  crea- 
tures, clean  and  unclean  ;  a  voice  at  the  same 
time  calling  to  him,  tJiat  he  should  rise,  kill  freely, 
and  indifferently  feed  upon  them.  Peter,  tena- 
cious as  yet  of  the  rites  and  institutions  of  the 
Mosaic  law,  rejoined,  that  he  could  not  do  it,  hav- 
ing never  eaten  any  thing  tiiat  was  common  or 
unclean.  To  which  the  voice  replied,  that  wliat 
God  had  cleansed  he  should  not  account  or  call 
common.  Wliich  being  done  thrice,  the  vessel 
was  again  taken  up  into  heaven,  and  the  vision 
presently  disappeared.  By  this  symbolic  repre- 
sentment,  though  Peter  at  present  knew  not  what 
to  make  of  it,  God  was  teaching  him  a  new  les- 
son, and  preparing  him  to  go  upon  an  errand  and 
embassy,  which  the  Spirit  at  the  same  time  ex- 
jiressly  commanded  liim  to  undertake.  While  he 
was  in  this  doubtful  postui-e  of  mind,  three  mcs- 


Acl3  ix.  32-34. 


t  Acts  X.  9. 


]  sengers  knocked  at  the  door,  inquiring  for  him  ; 
from  whom  he  received  this  account :  that  Cor- 
nelius, a  Roman,  captain  of  a  band  of  Italian  sol- 
diers at  Caesarea,  a  person  of  great  piety  and  re- 
ligion, (being  of  the  proselytes  at  the  gate,  who 
though  not  observing  an  exact  conformity  to  the 
rites  of  the  Mosaic  law,  did  yet  maintain  some  ge- 
neral correspondence  with  it,  and  lived  under  the 
obligation  of  the  seven  precepts  of  the  sons  of 
Noah,)  had  by  an  immediate  command  from  God, 
sent  for  him.  The  next  day  Peter,  accompanied 
1  with  some  of  the  brethren,  went  along  with  them ; 
and  the  day  after  they  came  to  Cassarea  :  against 
i  whose  arrival,  Cornelius  had  summoned  his  friends 
j  and  kindred  to  his  house.  Peter  arriving,  Corne- 
lius (who  was  affected  with  a  mighty  reverence  for 
so  great  a  person)  fell  at  his  feet  and  worshipped 
':  him  ;  a  way  of  address  frequent  in  those  eastern 
.  countries  towards  princes  and  great  men,  but  by 
i  the  Greeks  and  Romans  appropriated  as  a  peculiar 
honor  to  the  gods.  Peter,  rejecting  the  honor, 
I  as  due  only  to  God,  entered  into  the  house,  where 
j  he  first  made  his  apology  to  the  company,  that 
I  though  they  could  not  but  know,  that  it  was  not 
lawful  for  a  Jew  to  converse  in  the  duties  of  reli- 
1  gion  with  those  of  another  nation,  yet  that  now 
;  God  had  taught  him  another  lesson.  And  then 
I  proceeded  particularly  to  inquire  the  reason  ol 
I  Cornelius's  sending  for  him.  Whereupon  Corne- 
i  lius  told  him,  that  four  days  since,  being  conver- 
]  sant  in  the  duties  of  fasting  and  pra}-er,  an  angel 
I  had  appeared  to  him,  and  told  liim,  that  his  pray- 
ers and  alms  were  come  up  for  a  memorial  before 
God  ;  that  he  should  send  to  Joppa  for  one  Simon 
Peter,  who  lodged  in  a  tanner's  house  by  the  sea- 
side, who  should  further  make  known  his  mind  to 
him  ;  that  accordingly  he  sent,  and  being  now 
come,  they  were  there  met  to  hear  what  lie  Jiad 
to  say  to  them.  Where  we  see,  that  thougli  God 
sent  an  angel  to  Cornelius  to  acquaint  him  with 
his  Will,  yet  the  angel  was  only  to  direct  him  to 
the  apostle  for  instruction  in  the  faith  ;  which  no 
doubt  was  done,  partly  that  God  might  put  the 
greater  honor  upon  an  institution  that  was  likely 
to  meet  with  contempt  and  scorn  enough  from  the 
world  ;  partly  to  let  us  see  that  we  are  not  to  ex- 
pect extraordinary  and  miraculous  ways  of  teach- 
ing and  information,  where  God  affords  ordinary 
means. 

4.  Hereupon  Peter  began  this  discourse  ;  that 
by  comparing  things  it  was  now  plain  and  evident, 
that  the  partition  wall  was  broken  down  ;  that  God 
had  no  longer  a  particular  kindness  for  nations  and 
persons  ;  that  it  was  not  the  nation,  but  the  reli- 
gion ;  not  the  outward  quality  of  the  man,  but  the 
inward  temper  of  the  mind,  that  recommends  men 
to  God  ;  that  the  devout  and  the  pious,  the  righte- 
ous and  the  good  man,  wlierever  he  be,  is  equally 
dear  to  heaven  ;  that  God  lias  as  much  respect  for 
a  just  and  virtuous  person  in  the  wilds  of  Scythia, 
as  upon  Mount  Sion  :  that  the  reconcihng  and  mak- 
ing peace  between  God  and  man  by  Jesus  Christ; 
was  the  doctrine  published  by  the  prophets  of  old  ; 
and  of  late,  since  the  times  of  John,  preaclied 
through  Galilee  and  Judea :  viz.,  that  God  Iiad 
anointed  and  consecrated  Jesus  of  Nazareth  with 
divine  powers  and  graces,  in  the  exercise  whereof 
lie  constantly  went  about  to  do  good  to  men  :  that 
they  had  seen  all  he  had  done  amongst  the  Jews  ; 


4i 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


whom  tliough  they  had  slain  and  crucified,  yet 
that  God  had  raised  him  agam  the  third  day,  and 
had  openly  showed  liim  to  his  apostles  and  follow- 
ers, whom  he  had  chosen  to  be  his  peculiar  wit- 
nesses, and  whom  to  that  end  he  had  admitted  to 
eat  and  drink  with  him  after  his  resurrection,  com- 
manding them  to  preach  the  gospel  to  mankind, 
and  to  testify,  that  he  was  the  person  whom  God 
had  ordained  to  be  the  great  judge  of  the  world  : 
that  all  the  prophets  with  one  consent  bore  witness 
of  him  ;  that  this  Jesus  is  ho,  in  whose  name  who- 
eoever  believes,  should  certainly  receive  remission 
of  eins.  While  Peter  was  thus  preaching  to  them, 
the  Holy  Ghost  fell  upon  a  great  part  of  his  audi- 
tory, enabling  them  to  speak  several  languages, 
and  therein  to  magnify  the  giver  of  them.  Where- 
at the  Jews  who  came  along  with  Peter  did  suffi- 
ciently wonder,  to  see  that  the  gifts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  should  be  poured  upon  the  Gentiles.  Peter 
seeing  this,  told  the  company,  that  he  knew  no 
reason  why  these  persons  should  not  be  baptized, 
having  received  the  Holy  Ghost  as  well  as  they  ; 
and  accordingly  commanded  them  to  be  baptized  : 
for  whose  further  confirmation  he  staid  some  time 
longer  with  them.  This  act  of  Peter's  made  a 
great  noise  amongst  the  apostles  and  brethren  at 
Jerusalem,*  who,  being  lately  converted  from  their 
Judaism,  were  as  yet  zealous  for  the  religion  of 
their  country  ;  and  therefore  severely  charged 
Peter  at  his  return,  for  his  too  familiar  conversing 
with  the  Gentiles.  See  here  the  powerful  preju- 
dice of  education.  The  Jews  had  for  several 
ages  conceived  a  radicated  and  inveterate  preju- 
dice against  the  Gentiles.  Indeed  the  law  of 
Moses  commanded  them  to  be  peculiarly  kind  to 
their  own  nation  ;  and  the  rites  and  institutions 
of  their  religion,  and  the  peculiar  form  of  their 
commonwealth,  made  tiiem  different  from  the 
fashion  of  other  countries  ;  a  separation  which, 
in  after  times,  they  drew  into  a  narrower  corn- 
pass.  Besides,  they  were  mightily  puffed  up  with 
their  external  privileges,  that  they  were  "the  seed 
of  Abraham,"  the  people  whom  God  had  pecu- 
liarly chosen  for  himself,  above  all  other  nations  in 
the  world ;  and  therefore,  with  a  lofty  scorn, 
proudly  rejected  the  Gentiles  as  dogs  and  repro- 
bates ;  utterly  refusing  to  show  them  any  office 
of  common  kindness  and  converse.  We  find  the 
heathens  frequently  charging  them  with  this  rude- 
ness and  inhumanity.  Juvenal  accuses  them,  that 
they  would  not  show  a  traveller  the  right  way, 
nor  give  him  a  draught  of  water,  if  he  were  not  of 
their  religion.  Tacitus  tells  us,  that  they  had 
adversus  omnes  alios  hostile  odium,  "  a  bitter  lia- 
tred  of  all  other  people."  Hamanf  represented 
them  to  Ahasuerus  as  "  A  people  that  would  never 
kindly  mix  and  correspond  with  any  other ;  as 
different  in  their  manners  as  in  their  laws  and 
religion  from  other  nations."  The  friends  of  An- 
tiochus  (as  the  historian  reports)  charged  them, 
"That  they  alone  of  all  others  were  the  most  un- 
sociable people  under  heaven  ;  that  they  held  no 
converse  or  correspondence  with  any  other,  but 
accounted  them  as  their  mortal  enemies :  that  they 
would  not  eat  nor  drink  with  men  of  another  na- 


♦  Acts  xi.  1. 

t   Ap.  Joseph.  Antiq.  Jud.  lib.  xi.  c.  G; 


tion,  no  nor  so  much  as  wish  well  to  them ;  their 
ancestors  having  leavened  them  with  an  hatred 
of  all  mankind."  This  was  their  humor  :  and 
that  the  Gentiles  herein  did  not  wrong  them,  is 
sufficiently  evident  from  their  ordinary  practice, 
and  is  openly  avowed  by  their  own  writings.  Nay, 
at  their  first  coming  over  to  Christianity,  though 
one  great  design  of  it  was  to  soften  the  manners 
of  men,  and  to  oblige  them  to  a  more  extensive 
and  universal  charity,  yet  could  they  hardly  quit 
this  common  prejudice  ;  quarrelling  with  Peter 
for  no  other  reason,  but  that  he  had  eaten  and 
drunken  with  the  Gentiles  ;  insomuch  that  he  was 
forced  to  apologize  for  himself,  and  to  justiiy  his 
actions  as  immediately  done  by  divine  warrant 
and  authority.  And  then,  no  sooner  had  he  given 
them  a  naked  and  impartial  account  of  the  whole 
transaction,  from  first  to  last,  but  they  presently 
turned  their  displeasure  against  liim  into  thanks 
to  God,  that  had  granted  to  the  Gentiles  also  re- 
pentance unto  life. 

5.  It  was  now  about  the  tnd  of  Caligula's 
reign,  when  Peter,  having  finished  his  visitation 
of  the  new  planted  churches,  was  returned  to  Je- 
rusalem. Not  long  after,  Herod  Agrippa,*  grand- 
child to  Herod  the  Great,  having  attained  the 
kingdom,  the  better  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the 
people,  had  lately  put  St.  James  to  death.  And 
finding  that  this  gratified  the  vulgar,  resolved  to 
send  Peter  the  same  way  after  him.  In  order 
whereunto  he  apprehended  him,  cast  him  into  pri- 
son, and  set  strong  guards  to  watch  him  :  the 
church  in  the  mean  time  being  very  instant  and 
importunate  with  heaven  for  his  life  and  safety. 
The  night  before  his  intended  execution,  God  pur- 
posely sent  an  angel  from  heaven,  who  coming  to 
the  prison,  found  him  fast  asleep  between  two  of 
his  keepers.  So  soft  and  secure  a  pillow  is  a 
good  conscience,  even  in  the  confines  of  death, 
and  the  greatest  danger.  The  angel  raised  him 
up,  knocked  off  his  chains,  bade  him  gird  on  his 
garments  and  follow  him.  He  did  so  ;  and  liaving 
passed  the  first  and  second  watch,  and  entered 
through  the  iron  gate  into  the  city,  (which  open- 
ed to  them  of  its  own  accord,)  after  having  pass- 
ed through  one  street  more,  the  angel  departed 
from  him.  By  this  time  Peter  came  to  himselt; 
and  perceived  that  it  was  no  vision,  but  a  reality 
that  had  happened  to  him.  Whereupon  he  came 
to  Mary's  house,  where  the  church  were  met  to- 
gether at  prayer  for  him.  Knocking  at  the  door, 
the  maid  who  came  to  let  him  in,  perceiving  it  was 
his  voice,  ran  back  to  tell  them  that  Peter  was  at 
the  door  ;  which  they  at  first  looked  upon  as  no- 
thing but  the  effect  of  a  fright  or  fancy  ;  but  she 
still  affirming  it,  they  concluded  that  it  was  his 
angel,  or  some  peculiar  messenger  sent  from  him. 
The  door  being  opened,  they  were  strangely 
amazed  at  the  sight  of  him ;  but  he  briefly  told 
them  the  manner  of  his  deliverance,  and  charging 
them  to  acquaint  the  brethren  with  it,  presently 
withdrew  into  another  place.  It  is  easy  to  ima- 
gine what  a  bustle  and  stir  there  was  the  next 
morning  among  the  keepers  of  the  prison,  with 
whom  Herod  was  so  much  displeased,  that  ho 
commanded  them  to  be  put  to  death. 

6.  Some  time  after  this  it  happened,  that  a  con- 

*  Acts.  xii.  L 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


48 


troversy  arising  between  the  Jewish  and  the  Gen- 
tile converts  about  the  observation  of  the  Mosaic 
law,*  the  minds  of  men  were  exceedingly  disquiet- 
ed and  disturbed  with  it;  the  Jews  zealously  con- 
tending for  circumcision  and  the  observance  of  the 
ceremonial  law,  to  be  joined  with  the  behef  and 
profession  of  the  gospel,  as  equally  necessary  to 
salvation.  To  compose  this  difference,  the  best 
expedient  that  could  be  thought  on,  was  to  call  a 
general  council  of  the  apostles  and  brethren,  to 
meet  together  at  Jerusalem ;  which  was  done  ac- 
cordingly, and  the  case  thoroughly  scanned  and 
canvassed.  At  last  Peter  stood  up,  and  acquaint- 
ed the  synod,  that  God  having  made  choice  of  him 
among  aE  the  apostles,  to  be  the  first  that  preach- 
ed the  gospel  to  tlie  Gentiles,  God  who  was  best 
able  to  judge  of  the  hearts  of  men,  had  borne 
witness  to  them,  that  they  were  accepted  of  him, 
by  giving  them  his  Holy  Spirit,  as  well  as  he  had 
done  to  the  Jews:  having  put  no  difference  between 
the  one  and  the  other.  That  therefore  it  was  a 
tempting  and  provoking  God,  to  put  a  yoke  upon 
tlie  necks  of  the  disciples,  which  neither  they 
themselves  nor  their  fathers  were  able  to  bear; 
then-  being  ground  enough  to  believe,  that  the 
Gentiles  as  well  as  the  Jews  should  be  saved  by 
the  grace  of  tlie  gospel.  After  some  other  of  the 
apostles  had  declared  their  judgments  in  the  case, 
it  was  unanimously  decreed,  that  except  the  tem- 
porary observance  of  some  few  particular  things, 
equally  convenient  both  for  Jew  and  Gentile,  no 
other  burden  should  be  imposed  upon  them  :  and 
so  the  decrees  of  the  council  being  drawn  up  into 
a  synodical  epistle,  were  sent  abroad  to  the  several 
churches,  for  allaying  the  heats  and  controversies 
that  had  been  raised  about  this  matter. 

7.  Peter,  awhile  after  the  celebration  of  the 
council,  left  Jerusalem,  and  came  down  to  Antioch,f 
where  using  tiie  liberty  which  the  gospel  had 
given  him,  he  familiarly  eat  and  conversed  with 
the  Gentile  converts  ;  accounting  them,  now  that 
"  the  partition  wall  was  broken  down,"  no  longer 
"strangers"  and  "foreigners,  but  fellow-citizens 
with  the  saints,  and  of  the  household  of  God :" 
this  he  had  been  taught  by  the  vision  of  the  sheet 
let  down  from  heaven  ;  this  had  been  lately  de- 
creed, and  he  himself  had  promoted  and  sub- 
scribed it  in  the  synod  at  Jerusalem;  this  he 
had  before  practised  towards  Cornehus  and  his 
family,  and  justified  the  action  to  the  satisfaction  ' 
of  his  accusers  ;  and  this  he  had  here  freely  and 
innocently  done  at  Antioch,  till  some  of  the  Jewish 
brethren  coming  thither,  for  fear  of  offending  and 
displeasing  them,  he  withdrew  his  converse  with 
the  Gentiles,  as  if  it  had  been  unlawful  for  him 
to  hold  communion  with  uncircuracised  persons  ; 
when  yet  he  knew,  and  was  fully  satisfied,  that 
our  Lord  had  wholly  removed  all  difference,  and 
broken  down  the  wall  of  separation  between  Jew 
and  Gentile.  In  which  affair,  as  he  himself  acted 
against  the  light  of  his  own  mind  and  judgment, 
condemning  what  he  had  approved,  and  destroy- 
ing what  he  had  before  built  up ;  so  hereby  he 
confirmed  the  Jewish  zealots  in  their  mveterate 
error,  cast  infinite  scruples  into  the  minds  of  the 
Gentiles,  filling  their  consciences  with  fears  and 
dissatisfactions,  reviving  the  old  feuds  and  preju- 


dices between  Jew  and  Gentile  ;  by  which  means 
many  others  were  ensnared ;  yea,  the  whole 
number  of  Jewish  converts  followed  his  example, 
separating  themselves  from  the  company  of  the 
Gentile  Christians.  Yea,  so  far  did  it  spread  that 
Barnabas  himself  was  carried  away  with  the  stream 
and  torrent  of  this  unwarrantable  practice.  St. 
Paul,  who  was  at  this  time  come  to  Antioch,  unto 
whom  Peter  gave  "  the  right  hand  of  fellowship," 
acknowledging  his  apostleship  of  the  circumci- 
sion, observing  these  evil  and  unevangelical  act- 
ings, resolutely  withstood  Peter  to  the  face,  and 
publicly  reproved  him,  as  a  person  worthy  to  be 
blamed  for  his  gross  prevarication  in  this  matter  ; 
severely  expostulating  and  reasoning  with  him, 
that  he  who  was  himself  a  Jew,  and  thereby 
under  a  more  immediate  obligation  to  the  Mosaic 
law,  should  cast  off  that  yoke  himself,  and  yet 
endeavor  to  impose  it  upon  the  Gentiles,  who 
were  not  in  the  least  under  any  obligation  to  it. 
A  smart,  but  an  impartial  charge :  and  indeed  so 
remarkable  was  this  carriage  of  St.  Paul  towards 
our  apostle,  that  though  it  set  things  right  for  the 
present,  yet  it  made  some  noise  abroad  in  the 
world.  Yes,  Porphyry  himself,  that  acute  and 
substile  enemy  of  Christianity,  makes  use  of  it  as 
an  argument  against  them  both  ;  charging  the 
one  with  error  and  falsehood,  and  the  other  with 
rudeness  and  incivility  ;  and  that  the  whole  was 
but  a  compact  of  forgery  and  deceit,  while  the 
princes  of  the  church  did  thus  fall  out  among- 
themselves.  And  so  sensible  were  some  of  this, 
in  the  first  ages  of  Christianity,  that  rather  tlian 
such  a  dishonor  and  disgrace,  as  they  accounted  it, 
should  be  reflected  upon  Peter,  they  tell  us  of  two 
several  Cephas's,  one  tlie  apostle,  the  other  one  of 
the  seventy  disciples  ;  and  that  it  was  the  last  of 
these  tliat  was  guilty  of  this  prevarication,  and 
whom  St.  Paul  so  vigorously  resisted  and  re- 
proved at  Antioch.  But  for  this  plausible  and 
well-meant  evasion  the  champions  of  the  Romish 
church  con  them  no  great  thajiks  at  this  day. 
Nay,  St.  Jerome  long  since  fully  confuted  it  in  liis 
notes  upon  this  place. 


Acts  XV.  1. 


tGal.  ii.  H. 


SECTION  IX. 

Of  St.  Peter's  Acts,  from  the  end  of  the  Sacred 
Story  till,  his  Martyrdom. 

Hitherto,  in  drawing  up  the  life  of  this  great 
apostle,  we  have  had  an  infallible  guide  to  con- 
duct and  lead  us  ;  but  the  sacred  story  breaking 
off  here,  forces  us  to  look  abroad,  and  to  pick  up 
what  memoirs  the  ancients  have  left  us  in  this 
matter ;  which  we  shall  for  the  main  digest  ac- 
cording to  the  order  wherein  Baronius,  and  other 
ecclesiastic  writers  have  disposed  tlie  series  of 
St.  Peter's  life  ;  reserving  what  is  justly  question- 
able, to  a  more  particular  examination  afterward. 
And  that  we  may  present  the  account  more  entire 
and  perfect,  we  must  step  back  a  little  in  point  of 
time,  that  so  we  may  go  forward  with  greater  ad- 
vantage. We  are  to  know,  therefore,  that  during 
the  time  of  peace  and  calmness  wliich  the  church 
enjoyed  after  Saul's  persecution,  when  St.  Peter 
went  down  to  visit  the  churches,  he  is  said  to 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


44 


have  gone  to  Antioch,  where  great  numbers  of  | 
Jews  inhabited,  and  there  to  have  planted  the  ! 
Christian  faith.  That  he  founded  a  church  here  | 
Eusebius  expressly  tells  us  ;  and  by  others  it  is  ] 
said,  that  he  himself  was  the  first  bishop  of  this 
see.  Sure  I  am  that  St.  Chrysostom  reckons  it 
one  of  the  greatest  honors  of  that  city,  that  St. 
Peter  staid  so  long  there,  and  that  the  bishops  of 
it  succeeded  him  in  that  see.  The  care  and  presi-  j 
(lency  of  this  church  he  had  between  six  and 
seven  years.  Not  that  he  staid  there  all  that 
time,  but  that  liaving  ordered  and  disposed  things 
to  the  best  advantage,  he  returned  to  other  affairs 
and  exigencies  of  the  church;  confirming  the 
new  plantation,  bringhig  in  Cornelius  and  his 
family,  and  in  him  the  first  fruits  of  the  Gentiles' 
conversion  to  the  faith  of  Christ.  After  which 
he  returned  unto  Jerusalem,  where  he  was  im- 
prisoned by  Herod,  and  miraculously  delivered 
by  an  angel  sent  from  lieaven. 

"  2.  What  became  of  Peter  after  his  deliverance 
out  of  prison  is  not  certainly  known  ;  probably  he 
might  preach  m  some  parts  a  little  further  distant 
trom  Judffia,  as  we  are  told  lie  did  at  Byzantium, 
and  in  the  countries  thereabout  (though,  I  confess, 
the  evidence  to  me  is  not  convincing.)  After  this, 
he  resolved  upon  a  journey  to  Rome  ;  where  most 
agree  he  arrived  about  the  second  year  of  the  em- 
peror Claudius.  Orosius  teEs  us,  that  commg  to 
Rome,  he  brought  prosperity  along  with  him  to 
that  city  ;  for  besides  several  other  extraordinary 
advantages  which  at  that  time  happened  to  it, 
this  was  not  the  least  observable,  that  CamiUus 
Scribonianus,  governor  of  Dalmatia,  soliciting  the 
army  to  rebel  against  the  emperor,  the  eagles, 
their  military  standard,  remained  so  fast  in  the 
ground  that  no  power  nor  strength  was  able  to 
pluck  them  up.  With  which  unusual  accident 
the  minds  of  the  soldiers  were  surprised  and  start- 
led ;  and  turning  their  swords  against  the  author 
of  the  sedition,  continued  firm  and  loyal  in  their 
obedience.  Whereby  a  dangerous  rebellion  was 
prevented,  likely  enough  otherwise  to  have  broken 
out.  This  he  ascribes  to  St.  Peter's  coming  to 
Rome,  and  the  first  plantation  of  the  Christian 
faith  in  that  city  ;  heaven  beginning  more  particu- 
larly to  smile  upon  that  place  at  his  first  coming 
thither.  It  is  not  to  be  doubted,  but  that  at  his 
first  arrival  he  disposed  himself  amongst  the  Jews 
his  countrymen,  who  ever  since  the  time  of  Au- 
gustus had  dwelt  in  the  region  beyond  Tiber. — 
But  when  afterwards  he  began  to  preach  to  tJie 
Gentiles,  he  was  forced  to  change  liis  lodging, 
and  was  taken  in  by  one  Pudons,  a  senator,  lately 
converted  to  the  faith.  Here  lie  closely  ])Iietl  his 
main  office  and  employment,  to  establisji  Chris- 
tianity ill  that  place.  Here  we  are  told  he  met 
with  Philo  the  Jew,  lately  come  on  his  second  em- 
bassy unto  Rome,  in  the  behalf  of  his  countrymen 
at  Alexandriii,  and  to  have  contracted  o/i  intimate 
friendship  and  acquaintance  with  him.  And  now 
it  was,  says  Baronius,  that  Peter  being  mindful 
of  the  churches  which  he  had  founded  in  Pontus, 
Galatia,  Cappadocia,  Bitliynia,  and  Asia  the  less, 
wrote  his  first  epistle  to  them  :  wiiich  lie  probably 
infers  hence,  that  St.  Mark  being  yet  witli  liim  at 
the  time  of  the  date  of  this  epistle,  it  must  bo 
written  at  least  some  time  this  year  ;  for  that  now 
it  v\as  that  St.  Mark  was  sent  to  preacJi  and  pro- 


pagate the  faith  in  Egypt.  Next  to  the  planting 
religion  at  Rome,  he  took  care  to  propagate  it  in 
the  western  parts.  And  to  that  end,  (if  we  may 
believe  one  of  those  that  pretend  to  be  his  suc- 
cessors,) he  sent  abroad  disciples  into  several 
provinces  ;  that  so  "  their  sound  might  go  into  all 
the  earth,  and  their  words  unto  the  ends  of  the 
world." 

3.  It  happened  that  after  St.  Peter  had  been 
several  years  at  Rome,  Claudius  the  emperor, 
taking  the  advantage  of  some  seditions  and  tu- 
mults raised  by  the  Jews,  by  a  public  edict  banish- 
ed tliera  out  of  Rome  ;  in  the  number  of  whom, 
St.  Peter  (they  say)  departed  thence,  and  return- 
ed back  to  Jerusalem,  where  he  was  present  at 
that  great  apostolical  synod,  of  which  before. — 
After  this  we  are  left  under  great  uncertainties 
how  he  disposed  of  himself  for  many  years.  Con- 
fident we  may  be  that  he  was  not  idle,  but  spent 
his  time  sometimes  in  preaching  in  the  eastern 
parts,  and  sometimes  in  other  parts  of  the  world ; 
as  in  Africa,  Sicily,  Italy,  and  other  places.  And 
here  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  insert  a  claim  in  be- 
half of  our  own  country  :  Eusebius  teUing  us  (as 
Metaphrastes  reports  it)  that  Peter  was  not  only 
in  these  western  parts,  but  particularly  that  he 
was  a  long  time  in  Britain,  where  he  converted 
many  nations  to  the  faith.  But  we  had  better  be 
without  the  honor  of  St.  Peter's  company,  than 
build  the  story  upon  so  sandy  a  foundation  ;  Meta- 
phrastes's  authority  being  of  so  little  value  in  this 
case,  that  it  is  slighted  by  the  more  learned  and 
moderate  writers  of  the  church  of  Rome.  But 
wherever  it  was  that  St.  Peter  employed  his  time, 
towards  the  latter  part  of  Nero's  reign  he  returned 
to  Rome,  where  he  found  the  minds  of  the  people 
strangely  bewitched  and  hardened  against  the 
embracing  of  the  Christian  religion,  by  the  sub- 
tiltios  and  magic  arts  of  Simon  Magus,  whom  (as 
we  have  before  related)  he  had  formerly  baffled 
at  Samaria.  This  Simon  was  born  at  Gitton,  a 
village  of  Samaria,  bred  up  in  the  arts  of  sorcery 
and  divination  ;  and,  by  the  help  of  the  diabolical 
powers,  performed  many  strange  feats  of  wonder 
and  activity ;  insomuch  that  people  generally  look- 
ed upon  him  as  some  great  deity  come  down  from 
heaven.  But  be'ng  discovered  and  confounded 
by  Peter  at  Samaria,  he  left  the  east,  and  fled  to 
Rome  ;  where,  by  witchcraft  and  sorceries,  he 
insinuated  himself  into  the  favor  of  the  people  ; 
and  at  last  became  very  acceptable  to  the  empe- 
rors themselves,  insomuch  tiiat  no  honor  and  vene- 
ration was  too  great  for  him.  Justin  Martyr  as- 
sures us,  that  he  was  honored  as  a  deity,  that  a 
statue  was  erected  to  him  in  the  Insula  Tiberina, 
between  two  bridges,  with  this  mscription : — 
"  siMONi  DEO  SANCTO  ;''  "  To  Simou  the  holy 
god ;"  that  the  Samaritans  generally,  and  very 
many  of  other  nations,  did  own  and  worship  him 
as  the  chief  principal  deicy.  I  know  the  credit  of 
this  inscription  is  shrewdly  shaken  by  some  later 
antiquaries,  who  tell  us,  that  the  good  father,  being 
a  Greek,  might  easily  mistake  in  a  Latin  inscrip- 
tion, or  be  imposed  upon  by  others  ;  and  the  true 
inscription  was  skmoni  sango  dec  fidio,  &c.,  such 
an  inscription  being  in  the  last  age  dug  up  in  the 
Tiberine  island,  and  there  preserved  to  this  day. 
It  is  not  impossible  but  this  might  be  the  founda- 
tion of  the  .story.     But  sure  I  am,  that  it  is  not 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES 


45 


only  reported  by  the  martyr,  who  was  himself  a  | 
Samaritan,  and  lived  but  in  the  next  age,  but  by 
others  almost  of  the  same  time  ;  Irenseus,  Ter- 
tullian,  and  by  others  after  them.  It  further  de- 
serves to  be  considered,  that  Justin  Martyr  was  a 
person  of  great  learning  and  gravity,  inquisitive 
about  matters  of  this  nature,  at  this  time  at  Rome, 
where  he  was  capable  fully  to  satisfy  himself  in 
the  truth  of  things  ;  that  he  presented  this  apology 
to  the  emperor  and  the  senate  of  Rome,  to  whom 
he  would  be  careful  what  he  said  ;  and  who,  as 
they  knew  whether  it  was  true  or  no,  so,  if  false, 
could  not  but  ill  resent  to  be  so  boldly  imposed 
upon  by  so  notorious  a  fable.  But  be  it  as  it  will, 
he  was  highly  in  favor  both  with  the  people  and 
their  emperors  ;  especially  Nero,  who  was  the 
great  patron  of  magicians,  and  all  who  maintained 
secret  ways  of  commerce  with  the  infernal  powers. 
With  him  St.  Peter  thought  fit  in  the  first  place 
to  encounter  and  to  undeceive  the  people,  by  dis- 
covering the  impostures  and  delusions  of  that 
wretched  man. 

4.  That  he  did  so,  is  generally  affirmed  by  the 
ancient  fathers  ;  who  tell  us  of  some  particular 
instances  wherein  he  bafiled  and  confounded  him. 
But  because  the  matter  is  more  entirely  drawn 
up  by  Hegesippus  the  younger,  an  author  con- 
temporary with  St.  Ambrose,  if  not  (which  is  most 
probable)  St.  Ambrose  himself,  we  shall  from  him 
represent  the  summary  of  the  story.  There  was 
at  this  time  at  Rome  an  eminent  young  gentle- 
man, and  a  kinsman  of  the  emperor's,  lately  dead. 
The  fame  which  Peter  had  for  raising  persons  to 
life,  persuaded  his  friends  that  he  might  be  called. 
Others  also  prevailing  that  Simon  the  magician 
might  be  sent  for.  Simon  glad  of  the  occasion  to 
magnify  himself  before  the  people,  propounded  to 
Peter,  that  if  he  raised  the  gentleman  unto  life, 
then  Peter,  who  had  so  injuriously  provoked  the 
great  power  of  God,  (as  he  styled  himself)  should 
lose  his  life  :  but  if  Peter  prevailed,  he  himself 
would  submit  to  the  same  fate  and  sentence. — 
Peter  accepted  the  terms,  and  Simon  began  his 
charms  and  inchantments,  whereat  the  dead  gen- 
tleman seemed  to  move  his  hand.  The  people 
that  stood  by  presently  cried  out  that  he  was  alive, 
and  that  he  talked  with  Simon  ;  and  began  to  fall 
foul  upon  Peter,  for  daring  to  oppose  himself 
against  so  great  a  power.  The  apostle  entreated 
their  patience,  told  them  that  all  this  was  but  a 
phantasm  and  appearance  ;  that  if  Simon  was  but 
taken  from  the  bed-side,  all  this  pageantry  would 
quickly  vanish.  Who  being  accordingly  removed, 
the  body  remained  without  the  least  sign  of  mo- 
tion. Peter,  standing  at  a  good  distance  from  the 
bed,  silently  made  his  address  to  heaven,  and  then 
before  them  all  commanded  the  young  gentleman 
in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  to  arise  ;  who  im- 
mediately did  so,  spoke,  walked,  and  eat,  and  was 
by  Peter  restored  to  his  mother.  The  people  who 
saw  this,  suddenly  changed  their  opinions,  and  fell 
upon  the  magician  with  an  intent  to  stone  him. 
But  Peter  begged  his  life,  and  told  him,  that  it 
would  be  a  sufficient  punishment  to  him  to  live 
and  see,  that  in  despite  of  all  his  power  and  ma- 
lice, the  kingdom  of  Christ  should  increase  and 
flourish.  The  magician  was  inwardly  tormented 
with  this  defeat,  and  vexed  to  see  the  triumph  of 
the  apostles  ;  and  therefore  mustermg  up  all  his 


powers,  summoned  the  people,  told  them  he  was 
offended  at  the  Galileans,  whose  protector  and 
guardian  he  had  been  ;  and  therefore  set  them  a 
day,  when  he  promised  that  they  should  see  him 
fly  up  into  heaven.*  At  the  time  appointed,  he 
went  up  into  the  mount  of  the  capitol,  and  throw- 
ing himself  from  the  top  of  the  rock,  began  his 
flight.  A  sight  wliich  the  people  entertained  with 
great  wonder  and  veneration,  affirming  that  this 
must  be  the  power  of  God,  and  not  of  man.  Peter 
standmg  in  the  crowd,  prayed  to  our  Lord  that  the 
people  might  be  undeceived  ;  and  that  the  vanity 
of  the  impostor  might  be  discovered  in  such  a  way 
that  he  himself  might  be  sensible  of  it.  Imme- 
diately the  wings  which  he  had  made  himself  be- 
gan to  fail  him,  and  he  fell  to  the  ground,  misera- 
bly bruised  and  wounded  with  the  fall :  whence 
being  carried  into  a  neighboring  village,  he  soon 
after  died.  This  is  the  story  ;  for  the  particular 
circumstances  whereof  the  reader  must  rely  upon 
the  credit  of  my  author,  the  thing  in  general  being 
sufficiently  acknowledged  by  most  ancient  writers. 
This  contest  of  Peter's  with  Simon  Magus  is 
placed  by  Eusebius  under  the  reign  of  Claudius  ; 
but  by  the  generality  both  of  ancient  and  later  au- 
thors, it  is  referred  to  the  reign  of  Nero.f 

5.  Such  was  the  end  of  this  miserable  and  un- 
happy man  ;  which  no  sooner  came  to  the  ears  of 
the  emperor,  to  whom  by  wicked  artifices  he  had 
endeared  himself,  but  it  became  an  occasion  of 
hastening  Peter's  ruin.  The  emperor  probably 
had  been  before  displeased  with  Peter,  not  only 
upon  the  account  of  the  general  disagreement,  and 
inconformity  of  his  religion,  but  because  he  had 
so  strictly  pressed  temperance  and  chastity,  and 
reclaimed  so  many  women  in  Rome  from  a  disso- 
lute and  vicious  life  ;  thereby  crossing  that  wan- 
ton and  lascivious  temper  to  which  that  prince 
was  so  immoderate  a  slave  and  vassal.  And  be- 
ing now  by  this  means  robbed  of  his  dear  favorite 
and  companion,  he  resolved  upon  revenge ;  and 
commanded  Peter  (as  also  St.  Paul,  who  was  at 
this  time  at  Rome)  to  be  apprehended  and  cast 
into  the  Mamertine  prison :  where  they  spent 
their  time  in  the  exercises  of  religion,  and  espe- 
cially in  preaching  to  the  prisoners,  and  those 
who  resorted  to  them.  And  here  we  may  sup- 
pose it  was  (if  not  a  little  before)  that  Peter  wrote 
his  second  epistle  to  the  dispersed  Jews,  wherein 
he  endeavors  to  confirm  them  in  the  belief  and 


*  Sulpicius,  an  author  who  wrote  at  the  beginning 
of  the  fifth  century,  states  the  tradition  at  full,  as  a 
matter  of  history;  and  says  that  Simon,  in  attempt- 
ing to  fly,  supported  by  two  demons,  was  cast  down 
by  the  united  prayers  of  Peter  and  Paul.  The  same 
tradition  respecting  his  flying  is  also  reported  by 
other  authors,  particularly  by  Isidore,  bishop  of  Se- 
ville, in  the  sixth  century.— Ed. 

t  The  character  of  Simon,  as  recorded  in  the  Acts, 
and  the  known  inclination  of  the  people  in  this  age 
lor  magical  arts,  would  be  sufficient  to  give  a  high 
degree  of  probability  to  this  tradition.  Many  in- 
stances of  daring  confidence  in  occult  Rcience  are  on 
record  which  admit  of  no  doubt,  and  the  apparent 
infatuation,  therefore,  of  Simon  and  his  deluded  ad- 
mirers mav  be  matter  of  surprise  rather  than  of  in- 
credulity. '  Satan,  moreover,  no  doubt  employed 
him  as  one  of  his  agents  in  the  struggle  in  which  he 
was  engaged. — Ed. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


practice  of  Christianity,  and  to  fortify  them  against 
those  poisonous  and  pernicious  principles  and 
practices,  which  even  then  began  to  break  in 
upon  tJie  Christian  church. 

6.  Nero  returning  from  Achaia,  and  entering 
Rome  with  a  great  deal  of  pomp  and  triumph, 
resolved  now  tlie  apostle  should  fall  as  a  victim 
and  sacrifice  to  his  cruelty  and  revenge.  While 
the  fatal  stroke  was  daily  expected,  the  Christians 
in  Rome  did,  by  daily  prayers  and  importunities, 
solicit  St.  Peter  to  make  an  escape,  and  to  re- 
serve himself  to  the  uses  and  services  of  the 
church.  This  at  first  he  rejected,  as  what  would 
ill  reflect  upon  his  courage  and  constancy,  and 
argue  him  to  be  afraid  of  those  sufferings  for 
Christ  to  which  he  himself  had  so  often  persuaded 
others ;  but  the  prayers  and  tears  of  the  people 
overcame  him,  and  made  him  yield.  Accordingly 
the  next  night,  having  prayed  with,  and  taken  his 
farewell  of  the  brethren,  he  got  over  the  prison 
wall ;  and  coming  to  the  city  gate,  he  is  there 
said  to  iiave  met  with  our  Lord,  who  was  just  en- 
tering mto  the  city.  Peter  asked  him,  "  Lord, 
whither  art  thou  going?"  From  whom  he  pre- 
sently received  this  answer:  "I  am  come  to 
Rome,  to  be  crucified  a  second  time."  By  which 
answer  Peter  apprehended  himself  to  be  reproved, 
and  that  our  Lord  meant  it  of  his  death,  that  he 
was  to  be  crucified  in  his  servant.  Whereupon 
he  went  back  to  the  prison,  and  delivered  himself 
into  the  hands  of  his  keepers,  showing  himself 
most  ready  and  cheerful  to  acquiesce  in  the  will 
of  God.  And  we  are  told,  that  in  the  stone 
whereon  our  Lord  stood  while  he  talked  with  Pe- 
ter, lie  left  the  impression  of  his  feet ;  which  stone 
has  been  ever  since  preserved  as  a  very  sacred 
relic,  and  after  several  translations  was  at  length 
fixed  in  the  church  of  St.  Sebastian  the  martyr, 
where  it  is  kept  and  visited  with  great  expressions 
of  reverence  and  devotion  at  this  day.  Before  his 
suffering  he  was,  no  question,  scourged  ;  accord- 
ing to  the  manner  of  the  Romans,  who  were  wont 
first  to  whip  those  malefactors  who  were  adjudged 
to  the  most  severe  and  capital  punishments.  Hav- 
ing saluted  his  brethren,  and  especially  having 
taken  his  last  farewell  of  St.  Paul,  he  was  brought 
out  of  the  prison,  and  led  to  the  top  of  the  Vati- 
can Mount,  near  to  Tiber,  the  place  designed  for 
liis  execution.  The  death  lie  was  adjudged  to 
was  crucifixion ;  as  of  all  others  accounted  the 
most  shameful,  so  the  most  severe  and  terrible. 
But  he  entreated  the  favor  of  the  officers,  that  he 
might  not  be  crucified  in  the  ordinary  way,*  but 
might  suffer  with  his  head  downwards,  and  his 
feet  up  to  heaven  ;  affirming  that  he  was  unwor- 

*Orig.  lib.  iii.  in  Genes,  apud  Euseb.  Hist.  Eccles. 
lib.  iii.  c.  1.  p.  71.  Hieron  de  Script.  Eccl.  in  Petr. 
p.  2G2.     Heges.  p.  279. 

Prima  Pelrum  rapuit  sententia  legibus  Ncronis, 

Pendere  jussum  praiminente  ligno. 
lUetamen  verilus  celsae  decusoemulando  mortis 

Ambire  tanii  gloriam  Magistri : 
Exigit  utpedibusmersum  caput  imprimanlsupinis, 

duospectet  im\mi  slipiiem  cerebro. 
Fiariturergo  man  us  subter,  sola  versus  in  cacumen 

Hoc  mente  major,  quo  minor  figura. 
Jloverat  ex  humili  ca-lum  citius  solere  adiri, 

Dejecitora,  spiritum  daiurus. 

rrudent.  Perislepli.  Hymn.  x.i.  in  pas:.  Tet. ot  Paul.      I 


I  thy  to  suffer  in  the  same  posture  wherein  his  Lord 
j  had  suffered  before  him.  Happy  man  (as  Chry- 
I  sostom  glosses)  to  bo  set  in  the  readiest  posture 
I  of  traveling  from  earth  to  heaven.  His  body  be- 
ing taken  from  the  cross,  is  said  to  have  been  em- 
j  balmed  by  Marcellinus  the  presbyter,  after  the 
Jewish  manner,  and  was  then  buried  in  the  Vati- 
can, near  the  triumphal  way.  Over  his  grave  a 
small  church  was  soon  after  erected  ;  which  being 
destroyed  by  Heliogabalus,  his  body  was  removed 
to  the  cemetry  in  the  Appian-way,  two  miles  from 
Rome ;  where  it  remained  till  the  time  of  pope 
Cornelius,  who  reconveyed  it  to  the  Vatican, 
where  it  rested  somewhat  obscurely  till  the  reign 
of  Constantine  ;  who,  out  of  the  mighty  reverence 
which  he  had  for  the  Christian  religion,  caused 
many  churches  to  be  built  at  Rome,  but  especially 
rebuilt  and  enlarged  the  Vatican  to  the  honor  of 
St.  Peter.  In  the  doing  whereof  himself  is  said 
to  have  been  the  first  that  began  to  dijj  the  foun- 
dation, and  to  have  carried  thence  twelve  baskets 
of  rubbish  with  his  own  hands ;  in  honor,  as  it 
should  seem,  of  the  twelve  apostles.  He  infinite- 
ly enriched  the  church  with  gifts  and  ornaments, 
which  in  every  age  increased  in  splendor  and 
riches,  till  it  is  become  one  of  the  wonders  of  the 
world  at  this  day ;  of  whose  glories,  statelincss, 
and  beauty,  and  those  many  venerable  monu- 
ments of  antiquity  that  are  in  it,  they  who  desire 
to  know  more,  may  be  plentifully  satisfied  by 
Onuphrius.  Only  one  amongst  the  rest  must  not 
be  forgotten  ;  there  being  kept  that  very  wooden 
chair  wherein  St.  Peter  sat  when  he  was  at  Rome, 
by  the  only  touching  whereof  many  miracles  are 
said  to  be  performed.  But  surely  Baronius's  wis- 
dom and  gravity  were  from  home,  when  speaking 
of  this  chair ;  and  fearing  that  heretics  would  im- 
agine that  it  might  be  rotten  in  so  long  a  time,  he 
tells  us,  that  it  is  no  wonder  that  this  chair  should 
be  preserved  so  long,  when  Eusebius  affirms,  that 
the  wooden  chair  of  St.  James,  bishop  of  Jerusa- 
lem, was  extant  in  the  time  of  Constantine.*  But 
the  cardinal,  it  seems,  forgot  to  consider,  that 
there  is  some  difference  between  three  and  six- 
teen hundred  years.  But  of  this  enough.  St. 
Peter  was  crucified,  according  to  the  common 
computation,  in  the  year  of  Christ  69,f  and  the 
thirteenth  (or,  as  Eusebius,  the  fourteenth)  of 
Nero ;  how  truly  may  be  inquired  afterwards. 


SECTION  X. 

The  character  of  his  Person  and  Temper ;  and  an 
account  of  his  Writings. 

Having  run  through  the  current  history  of  St. 
Peter's  life,  it  may  not  be  amiss  in  the  next  place 
to  survey  a  little  his  person  and  temper.  His 
body  (if  we  may  believe  the  description  given  of 
him  by  Nicephorus|)  was  somewhat  slender,  of  a 
middle  size,  but  rather  inclining  to  tallness ;  his 
complexion  very  pale,  and  almost  white  ;  the  hair 


*Ad.  An.45,  n.  11. 

t  Or  the  year  65,  which  is  the  date  argued  for  by 
many  eminent  scholars. — En. 
t  Hist.  Eccles.  lib.  ii.  c.  37.  p.  195. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


47 


of  his  head  and  beard  curled  and  thick,  but  withal 
short :  though  St.  Jerome  tells,  out  of  Clemens's 
periods,  that  he  was  bald  ;  which  probably  might 
be  in  his  declining  age.  His  eyes  black,  but 
specked  with  red ;  which  Baronius  will  have  to 
proceed  from  his  frequent  weeping :  his  eyebrows 
thin,  or  none  at  all ;  his  nose  long,  but  rather 
broad  and  flat  than  sharp.  Such  was  the  case 
and  outside.  Let  us  next  look  inwards,  and  view 
the  jewel  that  was  within.  Take  him  as  a  man, 
and  there  seems  to  have  been  a  natural  eagerness 
predominant  in  his  temper,  which  as  a  whetstone 
sharpened  his  soul  for  all  bold  and  generous  un- 
dertakings. It  was  this,  in  a  great  measure,  that 
made  him  so  forward  to  speak,  and  to  return  an- 
swers, sometimes  before  he  had  well  considered 
them.  It  was  this  made  him  expose  his  person 
to  the  most  imminent  dangers,  promise  those  great 
things  in  behalf  of  his  master,  and  resolutely  draw 
his  sword  in  his  quarrel  against  a  whole  band  of 
soldiers,  and  wound  the  high-priest's  servant :  and 
possibly  he  had  attempted  greater  matters,  had 
not  our  Lord  restrained  and  taken  him  oiFby  that 
seasonable  check  that  he  gave  him. 

2.  This  temper  he  owed  in  a  great  measure  to 
the  genius  and  nature  of  his  country,  of  which 
Josephus  gives  this  true  character :  That  it 
naturally  bred  in  men  a  certain  fierceness  and 
animosity,  whereby  they  were  fearlessly  carried 
out  upon  any  action,  and  in  all  things  showed  a 
great  strength  and  courage  both  of  mind  and 
body.  The  Galileans  (says  he)  being  fighters 
from  their  childhood  ;  the  men  being  as  seldom 
overtaken  with  cowardice  as  their  country  with 
want  of  men.  And  yet,  notwithstanding  this,  his 
fervor  and  fierceness  had  its  intervals  ;  there 
being  some  times  when  the  paroxysms  of  his  heat 
and  courage  did  intermit,  and  the  man  was  sur- 
prised and  betrayed  by  his  own  fears.  Witness 
his  passionate  crying  out  when  he  was  upon  the 
sea,  in  danger  of  his  life,  and  his  fearful  deserting 
his  master  in  the  garden  ;  but  especially  his  car- 
riage in  the  high-priest's  hall,  when  the  confi- 
dent charge  of  a  sorry  maid  made  him  sink  so  far 
beneath  himself;  and,  notwithstanding  his  great 
and  resolute  promises,  so  shamefully  deny  his 
master,  and  that  with  curses  and  imprecations. 
But  he  was  in  danger,  and  passion  prevailed  over 
his  understanding,  and  fear  betrayed  the  succors 
which  reason  offered;  and  being  intent  upon 
nothing  but  the  present  safety  of  his  life,  he  heed- 
ed not  what  he  did,  when  he  disowned  his  master 
to  save  himself.  So  dangei'ous  is  it  to  be  left  to 
ourselves,  and  to  have  our  natural  passions  let 
loose  upon  us. 

3.  Consider  him  as  a  disciple  and  a  Christian, 
and  we  shall  find  him  exemplary  in  the   great  i 
instances  of  religion,  singular  in  his  humility  and 
lowliness    of   mind.      With   what   a   passionate  | 
earnestness,  upon  the  conviction  of  a  miracle,  did  j 
he  beg  of  our  Saviour  to  depart  from  him ;  ac- 
counting himself  not  worthy  that  the  Son  of  God 
should  come  near  so  vile  a  sinner  ]     When  our 
Lord,  by  that  wonderful  condescension,  stooped  to 
wash  his  apostles'  feet,  he  could  by  no  means  be 
persuaded  to  admit  it ;  not  thinking  it  fit  that  so 
great  a  person  should  submit  himself  to  so  servile  j 
a;i  office  towards  so  mean  a  person  as  himself; 
nor  could  he  be  induced  to  accept  it,  till  our  Lord  | 

88  C2n 


was  in  a  manner  forced  to  threaten  him  into  obe- 
dience. When  Cornelius,  heightened  in  his  ap- 
prehensions  of  him  by  an  imuiediate  command 
from  God  concerning  him,  would  have  entertained 
him  with  expressions  of  more  than  ordinary  honor 
and  veneration,  so  far  was  he  from  complyino- 
with  It,  that  he  plainly  told  him,  lie  was  no  other 
than  such  a  man  as  himself.  With  how  much 
candor  and  modesty  does  he  treat  the  inferior 
rulers  and  ministers  of  the  church  !  He,  upon 
whom  antiquity  heaps  so  many  honorable  titles, 
styling  himself  no  other  than  their  fellow-presbyter. 
Admirable  his  love  to,  and  zeal  for  his  master, 
which  he  thought  he  could  never  express  at  too 
high  a  rate:  for  his  sake  venturing  on  tlie  great- 
est dangers,  and  exposing  himself  to  the  most  im- 
minent hazards  of  life.  It  was  in  his  quarrel  that 
he  drew  his  sword  against  a  band  of  soldiers,  and 
an  armed  multitude  ;  and  it  was  love  to  his  mas. 
ter  that  drew  him  into  that  imprudent  advice, 
that  he  should  seek  to  save  himself,  and  avoid 
those  sufferings  that  were  coming  upon  him ;  that 
made  him  promise  and  engage  so  deep  to  suffer 
and  die  with  him.  Great  was  his  forwardness 
in  owning  Christ  to  be  the  Messiah  and  Son  of 
God  ;  which  drew  from  our  Lord  that  honorable 
encomium,  "  Blessed  art  thou,  Simon  Bar-.Tonah." 
But  greater  his  courage  and  constancy  in  confess- 
ing Christ  before  his  most  inveterate  enemies, 
especially  after  he  had  recovered  himself  of  his 
fall.  With  how  much  plainness  did  he  tell  the 
Jews,  at  every  turn,  to  their  very  faces,  that  they 
were  the  murderers  and  crucifiers  of  the  Lord  of 
glory !  Nay,  with  what  an  undaunted  courage, 
with  what  an  heroic  greatness  of  mind  did  he  tell 
that  very  Sanhedrim  tiiat  had  sentenced  and  con- 
demned him,  that  they  were  guilty  of  liis  murder ; 
and  that  they  could  never  be  saved  any  other  way 
tlian  by  this  very  Jesus  whom  they  had  crucified 
and  put  to  death. 

4.  Lastly,  let  us  reflect  upon  him  as  an  apostle, 
as  a  pastor  and  guide  of  souls.  And  so  we  find 
him  faithful  and  diligent  in  his  office  ;  with  an  in- 
finite zeal  endeavoring  to  instruct  the  ignorant, 
reduce  the  erroneous,  to  strengthen  the  weak,  and 
confirm  the  strong,  to  reclaim  the  vicious,  and 
"  turn  souls  to  righteousness."  We  find  him 
taking  all  opportunities  of  preaching  to  the  people, 
converting  many  thousands  at  once.  How  many 
voyages  and  travels  did  he  undergo  ?  With  how 
unconquerable  a  patience  did  lie  endure  all  con- 
flicts and  trials,  and  surmount  all  difficulties  and 
oppositions,  that  he  might  plant  and  propagate  the 
Christian  faith  ;  not  thinking  much  to  lay  down 
his  own  life  to  promote  and  further  it !  Nor  did 
he  only  do  his  duty  himself,  but  as  one  of  the 
prime  superintendents  of  the  church,  and  as  one 
that  was  sensible  of  the  value  and  wortli  of  souls, 
he  was  careful  to  put  others  in  mind  of  theirs ; 
earnestly  pressing  and  persuading  the  pastors  and 
governors  of  it,  "  to  feed  the  flock  of  GoJ  ;*  to 
take  upon  them  the  rule  and  inspection  of  it," 
"freely  and  willingly  ;"  not  out  of  a  sinister  end, 
merely,  of  gaining  advantages  to  themselves,  but 
out  of  a  sincere  design  of  doing  good  to  souls ; 
that  they  would  treat  them  mildly  and  gently,  and 
be  themselves  examples  of  piety  and  religion  to 

•  1  pet,  V.  3,  4. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


48 


them,  as  the  best  wav  to  make  their  ministry  suc- 
cessful and  effectual.  And  because  he  could  not 
be  ahvays  present  to  teach  and  warn  men,  he 
ceased  not  by  letters  "  to  stir  up  their  minds"  to 
the  remembrance  and  practice  of  what  they  had 
been  taught.  A  course,  he  tells  them,  which  he 
was  resolved  to  hold  as  long  as  he  lived  ;  as 
"  thinking  it  meet  while  he  was  in  this  tabernacle 
to  stir  them  up,  by  putting  them  in  mind  of  these 
things  ;"*  that  so  they  might  be  able  after  his  de-  j 
cease  to  have  them  always  in  remembrance.  And  \ 
this  may  lead  us  to  the  consideration  of  those 
writings  which  he  left  behind  hira  for  the  benefit 
of  the  church. 

5.  Now  the  writings  that  entitle  themselves  to 
this  apostle,  were  either  genuine  or  supposititious. 
The  genuine  writings  are  his  two  epistles,  which 
make  up  part  of  the  sacred  canon.  For  the  first  j 
of  them,  no  certain  account  can  be  had  when  it  j 
was  written  :  though  Baronius  and  most  writers  ! 
commonly  assign  it  to  the  year  of  Christ  44.f  [ 
But  this  cannot  be,  Peter  not  being  at  Rome,  \ 
(from  whence  it  is  supposed  to  have  been  written)  I 
at  that  time,  as  we  shall  see  anon.  He  wrote  it 
to  the  Jewish  converts  dispersed  through  Pontus, 
Galatia,  and  the  countries  thereabouts,  chiefly 
upon  the  occasion  of  that  persecution  which  had 
been  raised  at  Jerusalem.  And,  accordingly,  the 
main  design  of  it  is,  to  confirm  and  comfort  them 
under  their  present  sufferings  and  persecutions, 
and  to  direct  and  instruct  them  how  to  carry 
themselves  in  the  several  states  and  relations, 
both  of  the  civil  and  the  Christian  life.  For  the 
place  whence  it  was  written,  it  is  expressly  dated 
from  Babylon :  but  what  or  where  this  Babylon 
is,  is  not  so  easy  to  determine.  Some  think  it 
was  Babylon  in  Egypt,  and  probably  Alexandria  ; 
and  that  there  Peter  preached  the  gospel.  Others 
will  have  it  to  have  been  Babylon  the  ancient  me- 
tropolis of  Assyria,  and  where  great  numbers  of 
Jews  dwelt  ever  since  the  times  of  their  captivi- 
ties. But  we  need  not  send  Peter  on  so  long  an 
errand,  if  we  embrace  the  notion  of  a  learned 
man,  who  by  Babylon  will  figuratively  understand 
Jerusalem ;  no  longer  now  the  holy  city,  but  a 
kind  of  spiritual  Babylon,  in  which  the  church  of 
God  did  at  this  time  groan  under  great  servitude 
and  captivity.  And  this  notion  of  the  word  he 
endeavors  to  make  good,  by  calling  in  to  his  as- 
sistance two  of  the  ancient  fathers,  who  so  un- 
derstand that  of  the  prophet,  "  We  have  healed 
BabylDii,  but  she  was  not  healed."  Whero  the 
prophet,  say  they,  by  Babylon  means  Jerusalem, 
as  differing  nothing  from  the  wickedness  of  the 
nations,  nor  conforming  itself  to  the  law  of 
God.  But  generally  the  writers  of  the  Romish 
church,  and  the  more  moderate  of  the  reformed 
party,  acquiescin^r  herein  in  the  judgment  of  anti- 
quity, by  Rahylnn  understand  Rome.  And  so  it 
is  plain  St.  Joim  r;ills  it  in  his  «  Revelation,"| 
either  from  its  conformity  in  power  and  greatness 

*  2  Pel.  i.  12,  13,  15. 

tMost  later  critics  have  assigned  the  year  64  as 
the  more  probable  dale  of  this  epistle.  Baronius 
seems  to  have  been  led  into  the  error  of  giving  it  so 
early  a  date  hy  his  desire  to  strengthen  his  general 
argument  respecting  the  apostle's  residence  at 
Rome.— Ed. 

tChap.  xviii.  2,  10,21. 


to  that  ancient  city,  or  from  that  great  idolatry 
which  at  this  time  reigned  in  Rome.  And  so  we 
may  suppose  St.  Peter  to  have  written  it  from 
Rome,  not  long  after  his  coming  thither,  though 
the  precise  time  be  not  exactly  known. 

6.  As  for  the  second  epistle,  it  was  not  ac- 
counted of  old  of  equal  value  and  authority  with 
the  first ;  and,  therefore,  for  some  ages,  not  taken 
into  the  sacred  canon,  as  is  expressly  affirmed  by 
Eusebius,  and  many  of  the  ancients  before  him. 
The  ancient  Syriac  church  did  not  receive  it ;  and 
accordingly  it  is  not  to  be  found  in  their  ancient 
copies  of  the  New  Testament.  Yea,  those  of 
that  church  at  this  day  do  not  own  it  as  canoni- 
cal, but  only  read  it  privately,  as  we  do  the  apo- 
cryphal books.  The  greatest  exception  that  I 
can  find  against  it,  is  the  difference  of  its  style 
from  the  other  epistle  ;  whence  it  was  presumed, 
that  they  were  not  both  written  by  the  same 
hand.  But  St.  Jerome,  who  tells  us  the  objec- 
tion, does  elsewhere  himself  return  the  answer, 
that  the  difference  in  the  style  and  manner  of 
writing  might  very  well  arise  from  hence,  that 
St.  Peter,  according  to  his  different  circumstances, 
and  the  necessity  of  affairs,  was  forced  to  use  se- 
veral emanuenses  and  interpreters ;  sometimes 
St.  Mark,  and  after  his  departure  some  other  per- 
son,  which  might  justly  occasion  a  difference  in 
the  style  and  character  of  these  epistles.  Not  to 
say,  that  the  same  person  may  vastly  alter  and 
vary  his  style,  according  to  the  times  when,  or 
the  persons  to  whom,  or  the  subjects  about  which 
he  writes,  or  the  temper  and  disposition  he  is  in 
at  the  time  of  writing,  or  the  care  that  is  used  in 
doing  it.  Who  sees  not  the  vast  difference  of 
Jeremiah's  writing  in  his  prophecy,  and  in  his 
book  of  Lamentations  ?  between  St.  John's,  in 
his  Gospel,  his  Epistles,  and  Apocalypse  ■?  How 
oft  does  St.  Paul  alter  his  style  in  several  of  his 
epistles ;  in  some  more  lofty  and  elegant ;  in 
others  more  rough  and  harsh  1  Besides  hundreds 
of  instances  that  might  be  given,  both  in  ecclesi- 
astical and  foreign  writers,  too  obvious  to  need  in- 
sisting on  in  this  place.  The  learned  Grotius 
will  have  this  epistle  to  have  been  written  by 
Symeon,  St.  James's  immediate  successor  in  the 
bishopric  of  Jerusalem,  and  that  the  word  (Peter) 
was  inserted  into  the  title  by  another  hand.  But, 
as  a  judicious  person  of  our  own  observes,  these 
were  bvit  his  posthuine  annotations,  published  by 
others,  and  no  doubt  never  intended  as  the  deli- 
berate result  of  that  great  man's  judgment ;  es- 
pecially since  he  himself  tacitly  acknowledges,  that 
all  copies  extant  at  this  day  read  the  title  and  in- 
scription as  it  is  in  our  books.  And,  indeed,  there 
is  a  concurrence  of  circumstances  to  prove  St. 
Peter  to  be  the  author  of  it.  It  bears  his  name 
in  the  front  and  title,  yea,  somewhat  more  ex- 
pressly than  the  former,  which  has  only  one ;  this 
both  his  names.  There  is  a  passage  in  it  which 
cannot  well  relate  to  any  but  him  :  when  he  tells 
us  he  was  present  with  Christ  in  the  holy  mount ; 
when  he  "  received  from  God  the  Father  honor 
and  glory  :"  where  he  "  heard  the  voice  which 
came  from  heaven,  from  the  excellent  glory,  This 
is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased."* 
This  evidently  refers  to  Christ's  transfiguration, 


♦2Pet.i.  16,17, 18. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


49 


where  none  were  present  but  Peter  and  the  two 
sons  of  Zebedee,  neither  of  which  was  ever 
thought  to  be  the  author  of  this  epistle.  Besides 
that  there  is  an  admirable  consent  and  agreement 
in  many  passages  between  these  two  epistles,  as 
it  were  easy  to  show  in  particular  instances. 
Add  to  this,  that  St.  Jude,  speaking  of  the  "  scof- 
fers" who  should  come  "in  the  last  time,  walking 
after  their  own  ungodly  lusts,"*  cites  this  as  that 
which  had  been  "  before  spoken  by  the  apostles 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;"  wherein  he  plainly 
quotes  the  words  of  this  second  epistle  of  Peter, 
£iffirming,  that  "there  should  come  in  the  last  days 
scoffers,  walking  after  their  own  lusts. "f  And  that 
this  does  agree  to  Peter,  ^vill  further  appear  by 
this,  that  he  tells  us  of  these  scoffers  that  should 
come  in  the  last  days ;  that  is,  before  the  destruc- 
tion of  Jerusalem  ;  (as  that  phrase  is  often  used  in 
the  New  Testament;)  that  they  should  say, 
"  Where  is  the  promise  of  his  coming  ]"  Which 
clearly  respects  their  making  light  of  those  threat- 
enings  of  our  Lord,  whereby  he  had  foretold  that 
he  would  shortly  come  in  judgment  for  the  de- 
struction of  Jerusalem  and  the  Jewish  nation. 
This  he  now  puts  them  in  mind  of,  as  what  proba- 
bly he  had  before  told  them  of  viva  voce,  when  he 
was  amongst  them  :  for  so  we  find  he  did  else- 
where. Lactantius  assuring  us,  "  That  amongst 
many  strange  and  wonderful  things  which  Peter 
and  Paul  preached  at  Rome,  and  left  upon  record, 
this  was  one  :  that  within  a  short  time  God  would 
send  a  prince  who  should  destroy  the  Jews,  and 
lay  their  cities  level  with  the  ground,  straitly  be- 
siege them,  destroy  them  with  famine,  so  that 
they  should  feed  upon  one  another:  that  their 
wives  and  daughters  should  be  ravished,  and  their 
children's  brains  dashed  out  before  their  faces  : 
that  all  things  should  be  laid  waste  by  fire  and 
sword,  and  themselves  perpetually  banished  from 
their  own  country  ;  and  this  for  their  insolent  and 
merciless  usage  of  the  innocent  and  dear  Son  of 
God."  All  which,  as  he  observes,  came  to  pass 
soon  after  their  death,  when  Vespasian  came  upon 
the  Jews,  and  extinguished  both  their  name  and 
nation.  And  what  Peter  here  foretold  at  Rome, 
we  need  not  question  but  he  had  done  before  to 
those  Jews  to  whom  he  wrote  this  epistle.  Where- 
in he  especially  antidotes  them  against  those  cor- 
rupt and  poisonous  principles,  wherewith  many, 
and  especially  the  followers  of  Simon  Magus,  be- 
gan to  infect  the  church  of  Christ.  And  this  but 
a  little  time  before  his  death,  as  appears  from 
that  passage  in  it,  where  he  tells  them,  "  Tliat 
he  knew  he  must  shortly  put  off  his  earthly  taber- 
nacle."! 

7.  Besides  these  divine  epistles,  there  were  other 
supposititious  writings  which,  in  the  first  ages  were 
fathered  upon  St.  Peter.  Such  was  the  book  called 
his  Acts,   mentioned   by   Origen,  Eusebius,  and 


*Judel7,  18.  t  2  Pet.  iii.  2,  3. 

t  The  caution  with  which  St.  Peter's  Second 
Epistle  was  received  into  the  sacred  canon,  afTords 
^  most  valuable  proof  of  the  care  employed  by  the 
church  in  the  examination  of  writings  purporting 
to  be  inspired.  It  was  not  probable  that  the  ge- 
nuineness and  authenticity  of  the  apostle's  epistles 
could  be  every  where  known  at  the  same  period. — 
Ed. 


others  ;  but  rejected  by  them.  Such  was  his  gos- 
pel, which  probably  at  first  was  nothing  else  but 
the  gospel  written  bv  St.  Mark,  dictated  to  him 
(as  IS  generally  thought)  by  St.  Peter  ;  and  there- 
fore,  as  St.  Jerome  tells  us,  said  to  be  his.  Though 
m  the  next  age  there  appeared  a  book  under  that 
title,  mentioned  by  Serapion,  bishop  of  Antioch, 
and  by  him  at  first  suffered  to  be  read  in  the 
church  ;  but  afterwards,  upon  a  more  careful  peru- 
sal of  it,  he  rejected  it  as  apocryphal,  as  it  was  by 
others  after  him.  Another  was  the  book  styled 
his  Preaching,  mentioned  and  quoted  by  Clemens 
Alexandrinus,  and  by  Origen,  but  not  acknow- 
ledged by  them  to  be  genuine  ;  nay,  e.-^pressly 
said  to  have  been  forged  by  heretics,  by  an  an- 
cient author  contemporary  with  St.  Cyprian. 
The  next  was  his  Apocalypse,  or  Revelation  ;  re- 
jected,  as  Sozomen  tells  us,  by  the  ancients  as 
spurious,  but  yet  read  in  some  churches  in  Pales- 
tine in  his  time.  The  last  was  the  book  called 
his  Judgment,  which  probably  was  the  same  with 
that  called  Hermes,  or  Pastor,  a  book  of  good  use 
and  esteem  in  the  first  times  of  Christianity,  and 
which,  as  Eusebius  tells  us,  was  not  only  fre- 
quently cited  by  the  ancients,  but  also  publicly 
read  in  churches. 

8.  We  shall  conclude  this  section  by  considering 
Peter  with  respect  tc  his  several  relations  :  that  he 
was  married  is  unquestionable,  the  sacred  history 
mentioning  his  wife's  mother  :  his  wife  (might  we 
believe  Metaphrastes)  being  the  daughter  of  Aris- 
tobulus,  brother  to  Barnabas  the  apostle.  And 
though  St.  Jerome  would  persuade  us  that  he  left 
her  behind  him,  together  with  his  nets,  when  he 
forsook  all  to  follow  Christ ;  yet  we  know  that  fa- 
ther too  well  to  be  over-confident  upon  his  word  in 
a  case  of  marriage  or  single  life,  wherein  he  is  not 
over-scrupulous  sometimes  to  strain  a  point,  to 
make  his  opinion  more  fair  and  plausible.  The 
best  is,  we  have  an  infallible  authority  which 
plainly  intimates  the  contrary,  the  testimony  of 
St.  Paul,  who  tells  us  of  Cephas,  that  "  he  led 
about  a  wife,  a  sister,"  along  with  him  ;  who  for 
the  most  part  mutually  cohabited  and  lived  toge- 
ther, for  aught  that  can  be  proved  to  the  contrary. 
Clemens  Alexandrinus  gives  us  this  account, 
though  he  tells  us  not  the  time  or  place ;  that 
Peter,  seeing  his  wife  going  towards  martyrdom, 
exceedingly  rejoiced  that  she  was  called  to  so 
great  an  honor,  and  that  she  was  now  returning 
liome ;  encouraging  and  earnestly  exhorting  her, 
and  calling  her  by  her  name,  bade  her  be  mindful 
of  our  Lord.  Such,  says  he,  was  the  wedlock  or 
that  blessed  couple,  and  the  perfect  disposition  and 
agreement  in  those  things  that  were  dearest  to 
them  By  her  he  is  said  to  have  had  a  daughter, 
called  Petronilla,  (Metaphrastes*  adds  a  son,)  how 
truly  I  know  not.  This  only  is  certain  that  Cle- 
mens of  Alexandria,  reckons  Peter  for  one  of  the 
apostles  that  was  married  and  had  children.  And 
surely  he  who  was  so  good  a  man,  and  so  good  an 
apostle,  was  as  good  in  the  relation  both  of  an 
husband  and  a  father, 

*  Metaphrastes  was  one  of  the  principal  Greek 
writers  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  but  his  Lives 
of  the  Saints  are  too  filled  with  fable  to  posses.s  any 
authority  with  ecclesiastica]  historians. 


60 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


SECTION  XI. 

An  Inquiry  into  St.  Peter's  going  to  Rome. 

Ix  is  not  my  purpose  to  swim  against  the  stream 
and  current  of  antiquity,  in  denying  St.  Peter  to 
have  been  at  Rome  ;  an  assertion  easilier  per- 
plexed and  entangled  than  confuted  and  disproved : 
we  may  grant  the  main,  without  doing  any  great 
service  to  that  church ;  there  being  evidence 
enough  to  every  impartial  and  considering  man, 
to  spoil  that  smooth  and  plausible  scheme  of  times, 
which  Baronius  and  the  writers  of  that  church 
have  drawn  with  so  much  care  and  diligence. — 
And  in  order  to  this  we  shall  first  inquire,  whether 
that  account  which  Bellarmine  and  Baronius  give 
us  of  Peter's  being  at  Rome,  be  tolerably  recon- 
cileaole  with  the  history  of  the  apostles'  acts,  re- 
corded  by  St.  Luke  ;  which  will  be  best  done  by 
briefly  presenting  St.  Peter's  acts  in  their  just 
series  and  order  of  time,  and  then  see  what  coun- 
tenance and  foundation  their  account  can  receive 
from  hence.* 

2.  After  our  Lord's  ascension,  we  find  Peter,  for 
the  first  year  at  least,  staying  with  the  rest  of  the 
apostles  at  Jerusalem.  In  the  next  year  he  was 
sent,  together  with  St.  John,  by  the  command  of 
the  apostles,  to  Samaria,  to  preach  the  gospel  to 
that  city,  and  the  parts  about  it.  About  three 
years  after,  St.  Paul  meets  him  at  Jerusalem,  with 
whom  he  staid  some  time.  In  the  two  following 
years  he  visited  the  late  planted  churches,  preach- 
ed at  Lydda  and  Joppa,  where  having  "  tarried 
many  days,"  he  thence  removed  to  Csesarea, 
where  he  preached  to,  and  baptized  Cornelius  and 
his  family.  Whence,  after  some  time,  he  return- 
ed to  Jerusalem,  where  he  probably  staid,  till  cast 
into  prison  by  Herod,  and  delivered  by  the  angel. 
After  which  we  hear  no  more  of  him,'till  three  or 
four  years  after  we  find  him  in  the  council  at  Je- 
rusalem. After  which  he  had  the  contest  with 
St.  Paul  at  Antioch.  And  thence  forward  the 
sacred  story  is  altogether  silent  in  this  matter. — 
So  that  in  all  this  time  we  find  not  the  least  foot- 
step of  any  intimation  that  he  went  to  Rome. — 
This  Baroniusf  well  foresaw  ;  and  therefore  once 
and  again  inserts  this  caution,  that  St.  Luke  did 
not  design  to  record  all  the  apostles'  acts,  and 
that  he  has  omitted  many  things  which  were  done 
by  Peter  :  which  surely  no  man  ever  intended  to 
deny.  But  then,  that  ho  should  omit  a  matter  of 
such  vast  moment  and  importance  to  the  whole 

•  The  united  learning,  candor,  and  honesiy  of  our 
author  are  here  conspicuously  displayed  :  Jew  pas- 
sages in  history  are  more  strongly  confirmed  than 
that  which  relates  the  apostle's  residence  at  Rome. 
In  the  summary  of  the  opposite  arguments,  given  hy 
Basnage,  Liv.  vii.  c.  3,  (Histoire  de  I'Eglise,)  this 
must  be  apparent  to  every  candid  inquirer  ;  and  in 
all  subjects  of  this  kind,  ii  should  always  be  observed 
as  a  principle,  that  no  circumstance  in  history  cnn 
by  any  possibility  be  rendered  doubtful  by  the  dis- 
puted inferences  drawn  therefrom.  However  erro- 
neous the  use  made  of  facts,  never  let  the  facts  on 
that  account  be  disallowed.  The  Roman  Catholic 
•writers,  however,  have  endangered  the  apparent 
truth  of  history,  by  forcing  what  is  supported  on 
sufficient  evidence  into  assertions  to  which  the  his- 
torical evidence  does  not  extend.— Ed. 

t  Ad.  Ann.  39,  num.  12,  ad.  Ann.  34,  num.  285. 


Christian  world  ;  that  not  one  syllable  should  be 
said  of  a  church  planted  by  Peter  at  Rome  ;  a 
church  that  was  to  be  paramount,  the  seat  of  all 
spiritual  power  and  infallibility,  and  to  which  all 
other  churches  were  to  veil  and  do  homage  ;  nay, 
that  he  should  not  so  much  as  mention  that  ever 
he  was  there,  and  yet  all  this  said  to  be  done 
within  the  time  he  designed  to  write  of,  is  by  no 
means  reasonable  to  suppose.  Especially  con- 
sidering that  St.  Luke  records  many  of  his  jour- 
neys and  travels,  and  his  preaching  at  several 
places,  of  far  less  consequence  and  concernment. 
Nor  let  this  be  thought  the  worse  of,  because  a 
negative  argument,  since  it  carries  so  much  ra- 
tional evidence  along  with  it,  that  any  man  who 
is  not  plainly  biassed  by  interest  will  be  satisfied 
with  it. 

3.  But  let  us  proceed  a  little  further  to  inquire, 
whether  we  can  meet  any  probable  footsteps  after- 
wards. About  the  year  53,  towards  the  end  of 
Claudius's  reign,  St.  Paul  is  thought  to  liave  writ 
his  epistle  to  the  church  of  Rome,  wherein  he 
spends  the  greatest  part  of  one  chapter  in  saluting 
particular  persons  that  were  there  ;  amongst 
whom  it  might  reasonably  have  been  expected, 
that  St.  Peter  should  have  had  the  first  place. — 
And  supposing  with  Baronius,*  that  Peter  at  this 
time  might  be  absent  from  the  city,  preaching  the 
gospel  in  some  parts  of  the  west,  yet  we  are  not 
sure  that  St.  Paul  knew  of  this  ;  and  if  he  did,  it 
is  strange  that  in  so  large  an  epistle,  wherein  he 
had  occasion  enough,  there  should  be  neitlier  di- 
rect nor  indirect  mention  of  him,  or  of  any  church 
there  founded  by  him.  Nay,  St.  Paul  himself 
intimates,  what  an  earnest  desire  he  had  to  come 
thither,  that  he  might  "  impart  unto  them  some 
spiritual  gifts,  to  the  end  they  might  be  established 
in  the  faith  ;"f  for  which  there  could  have  been 
no  such  apparent  cause,  had  Peter  been  there  so 
lately  and  so  long  before  him.  Well,  St.  Paul 
himself,  not  many  years  after,  is  sent  to  Rome, 
ann.  Chr.  56,  or  as  Eusebius,  57;  (though  Baro- 
nius makes  it  two  years  after  ;)  about  the  second 
year  of  Nero  :  when  he  comes  thither,  does  he  go 
to  sojourn  with  Peter,  as  it  is  likely  he  would,  had 
he  been  there?  No,  but  dwelt  by  himself  in  his 
own  hired  house.  No  sooner  was  he  come,  but 
he  called  the  chiefof  the  Jews  together,  acquaint- 
ed thein  with  the  cause  and  end  of  his  coming, 
explains  the  doctrine  of  Christianity  ;  which  when 
they  rejected,  he  tells  them,  that  "  henceforth  the 
salvation  of  God  was  sent  unto  the  Gentiles,"  who 
would  hear  it,  to  whom  he  would  now  address 
himself.J  Which  seems  to  intimate,  that  however 
some  few  of  the  Gentiles  might  liave  been  brought 
over,  yet  that  no  such  harvest  Jiad  been  made  be- 
fore his  coming,  as  might  reasonably  have  been 
expected  from  St.  Peter's  having  been  so  many 
years  amongst  them.  Within  the  two  first  years 
after  St.  Paul's  coming  to  Rome,  he  wrote  epistles 
to  several  churches,  to  the  Colosians,  Ephesians, 
Philippians,  and  one  to  Philemon  ;  in  none  where- 
of is  there  the  least  mention  of  St.  Peter,  or  from 
whence  the  least  probability  can  be  derived  that 
he  had  been  there.  In  that  to  the  Colossians,  he 
tells  them,  that  of  the  Jews  at  Rome  he  had  had 


♦  Ad.  Ann.  58,  n.  51. 
tActs  xxviii.  17. 


t  Rom.  i.  10,  11,  12. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


51 


"no  other  fellow-workers  unto  the  kingdom  of 
God,  which  had  been  a  comfort  unto  him,  save 
only  Aristarchus,  Marcus,  and  Jesus,  who  was 
called  Justus  :"*  which  evidently  excludes  St. 
Peter.  And  in  that  to  Timothy,  which  Baronius 
confesses  to  have  been  written  a  little  before  his 
martyrdom,  (though  probably  it  was  written  at  the 
same  time  with  the  rest  above  mentioned,)  he 
tells  him,  that  "  at  his  first  answer  at  Rome,  no 
man  stood  with  him,  but  that  all  men  forsook  him  ;"f 
which  we  can  hardly  believe  St.  Peter  would  have 
done,  had  he  then  been  there.  He  further  tells 
him,  that  "  only  Luke  was  with  him  ;"  that  Crc- 
scens  was  gone  to  this  place,  Titus  to  that,  and 
Tychicus  left  at  another.  Strange,  that  if  Peter 
was  at  tliis  time  gone  from  Rome,  St.  Paul  should 
take  no  notice  of  it  as  well  as  the  rest !  Was  he 
so  inconsiderable  a  person  as  not  to  be  worth  the 
remembering]  or  his  errand  of  so  small  import- 
ance as  not  to  deserve  a  place  in  St.  Paul's  ac- 
count, as  well  as  that  of  Crescens  to  Galatia,  or 
of  Titus  to  Dalmatia  1  Surely  the  true  reason  was, 
that  St.  Peter  as  yet  had  not  been  at  Rome,  and 
so  there  could  be  no  foundation  for  it. 

4.  It  were  no  hard  matter  further  to  demon- 
strate the  inconsistency  of  that  account  which 
Bellarmine  and  Baronius  give  us,  of  Peter's  being 
at  Rome  from  the  time  of  the  apostolical  synod  at 
Jerusalem.  For  if  St.  Paul  went  up  to  that  coun- 
cil fourteen  years  after  his  own  conversion,  as  he 
plainly  intimates,|  and  that  he  himself  was  con- 
verted in  the  year  35,  somewhat  less  than  two 
years  after  the  death  of  Christ,  then  it  plainly  ap- 
pears that  this  council  was  holden  in  the  year  48, 
in  the  si.xth  year  of  Claudius,  if  not  somewhat 
Booner  ;  for  St.  Paul's  Sia  lti:aTeccap(j)v  erwv  does  not 
necessarily  imply  that  fourteen  years  were  com- 
pletely past ;  Sta  signifying  circa,  as  well  as  post ; 
but  that  it  was  near  about  that  time.  This  being 
granted,  (and  if  it  be  not,  it  is  easy  to  make  it 
good)  then  three  things  amongst  others  will  follow 
from  it.  First,  that  whereas,  according  to  Bellar- 
mine and  Baronius,  St.  Peter  after  his  first  coming 
to  Rome,  (which  they  place  in  the  year  44,  and 
the  second  of  Claudius,)  was  seven  years  before 
he  returned  thence  to  the  council  at  Jerusalem  ; 
they  are  strangely  out  in  their  story,  there  being 
but  three,  or  at  most  four  years  between  his  going 
thither  and  the  celebration  of  that  council.  Se- 
condly ;  that  when  they  tell  us,  that  St.  Peter's 
leaving  Rome  to  come  to  the  council,  was  upon  the 
occasion  of  the  decree  of  Claudius,  banishing  all 
Jews  out  of  the  city,  this  can  no  waj^s  be  ;  for 
Orosius  does  not  only  affirm  but  prove  it  from 
Josephus,  that  Claudius's  decree  was  published  in 
the  ninth  year  of  his  reign,  or  anno  Chr.  51 ;  three 
years  at  least  after  the  celebration  of  the  council. 
Thirdly  ;  that  when  Baronius  tells  us,||  that  the 
reason  why  Peter  went  to  Rome  after  the  break- 
ing up  of  the  synod,  was  because  Claudius  was 
now  dead,  he  not  daring  to  go  before  for  fear  of 
the  decree  ;  this  can  be  no  reason  at  all,  the  coun- 
cil being  ended  at  least  three  years  before  that 
decree  took  place ;  so  that  he  might  safely  have 
gone  thither  without  the  least  danger  from  it.  It 
might  further  be  showed  (if  it  were  necessary) 


•  Aclsiv.  10,  IL 
t  Gal.  ii  1. 


I  1  Tim.  iv.  16. 

II  Ad.  Ann.  58,  n,  51. 


that  the  account  which  even  they  themselves  give 
us  is  not  very  consistent  with  itself.  So  fatally 
does  a  bad  cause  draw  men,  whether  they  will  or 
no,  into  errors  and  mistakes. 

5.  The  truth  is,  the  learned  men  of  that  church 
are  not  well  agreed  among  themselves,  to  give  in 
their  verdict  in  this  case.  And  indeed  how  should 
they,  when  the  thing  itself  affords  no  solid  foun- 
dation  for  it  1  Onuphrius,  a  man  of  great  learn- 
ing and  industry  in  all  matters  of  antiquity,  and 
who  (as  the  writer  of  Baronius's  life  informs  us) 
designed  before  Baronius  to  write  the  history  of 
the  church,  goes  away  by  himself,  in  assigning 
the  time  of  St.  Peter's  founding  his  see  both  at 
Antioch  and  Rome.  For  finding,  by  the  account 
of  the  sacred  story,  that  Peter  did  not  leave  Ju- 
daea for  the  first  ten  years  after  our  Lord's  ascen- 
sion, and  consequently  could  not  in  that  time  erect 
his  see  at  Antioch,  he  affirms  that  he  went  first 
to  Rome,  whence  returning  to  the  council  at  Je- 
rusalem, he  thence  went  to  Antioch,  where  he  re- 
mained seven  years,  till  the  death  of  Claudius  ; 
and  having  spent  almost  the  whole  reign  of  Nero 
in  several  parts  of  Europe,  returned  in  the  last  of 
Nero's  reign  to  Rome,  and  there  died.  An  opi- 
nion for  which  he  is  sufficiently  chastised  by  Ba- 
ronius and  others  of  that  party.  And  here  I  can- 
not but  remark  the  ingenuity  (for  the  learning 
sufficiently  commends  itself)  of  Monsieur  Valois, 
who  freely  confesses  the  mistake  of  Baronius,  Pe- 
tavius,  &c.  in  making  Peter  go  to  Rome  in  the 
year  44,  the  second  year  of  Claudius,  whereas  it 
is  plain,  says  he,  from  the  history  of  the  Acts,  that 
Peter  went  not  out  of  Judeea  and  Syria,  till  the 
death  of  Herod,  the  fourth  of  Claudius,  two  whole 
years  after.  Consonant  to  which,  as  he  observes, 
is  what  Apollonius,  a  writer  of  the  second  centu- 
ry, reports  from  a  tradition  current  in  his  time, 
that  the  apostles  did  not  depart  asunder  till  the 
twelfth  year  after  Christ's  ascension,  our  Lord 
himself  having  so  commanded  them.  In  confir- 
mation whereof,  let  me  add  a  passage  that  I  meet 
with  in  Clemens  of  Alexandria,  where  from  St. 
Peter  he  records  this  speech  of  our  Saviour  to  his 
apostles,  spoken,  probably  either  a  little  before  his 
death  or  after  his  resurrection :  "  If  any  Israel- 
ite shall  repent,  and  believe  in  God  through  my 
name,  his  sins  shall  be  forgiven  him  after  twelve 
years.  Go  ye  into  the  world,  lest  any  should  say, 
We  have  not  heard."  This  passage,  as  ordina- 
rily pointed  in  all  editions  that  I  have  seen,  is 
scarce  capable  of  any  tolerable  sense;  for  what  is 
the  meaning  of  a  penitent  Israelite's  being  par- 
doned "  after  twelve  years  1"  It  is  therefore  pro- 
bable, yea,  certain  with  me,  that  the  stop  ought 
to  be  after  ojuapnai,  and  fitra  iuisKa  £Ti7  joined  to  the 
following  clause,  and  then  the  sense  will  run  clear 
and  smooth  :  "  If  any  Jew  shall  repent  and  believe 
the  gospel,  he  shall  be  pardoned  :  but  after  twelve 
years,  go  ye  into  all  the  work! ;  that  none  may 
pretend  that  they  have  not  heard  the  sound  of  the 
gospel."  The  apostles  were  first  to  preach  the 
gospel  to  the  Jews  for  some  considerable  time, 
twelve  years  after  Christ's  ascension,  in  and  about 
Judeea,  and  then  to  betake  themselves  to  the  pro- 
vinces of  tlie  Gentile  world,  to  make  known  to 
them  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation ;  exactly  an- 
swerable to  the  tradition  mentioned  by  AppoUo- 
nius.     Besides,  the  Chronicon  Alexandrinum  tells 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


52 

„s  that  Peter  came  not  to  Rome  till  the  seventh 
year  of  Claudius,  anno  Christi,  49.  So  little  cer- 
tainty can  there  be  of  any  matter  wherem  there 
is  no  truth.  Nay,  the  same  excellent  man,  before 
mentioned,  does  not  stick  elsewhere  to  profess,  he 
wonders  at  Baronius,  that  he  should  make  Peter 
come  from  Rome,  banished  thence  by  Claudius's 
edict,  to  the  synod  at  Jerusalem  the  same  year, 
viz.  the  ninth  of  Claudius  ;  a  thing  absolutely  in- 
consistent with  that  story  of  the  apostle's  acts  re- 
corded by  St.  Luke,  wherein  there  is  the  space  of 
no  less  than  three  years,  from  the  time  of  that 
synod  to  the  decree  of  Claudius.  It  being  evi- 
dent, what  he  observes,  that  after  the  celebration 
of  the  council,  St.  Paul  went  back  to  Antioch  ; 
afterwards  into  Syria  and  Cilicia,  to  preach  the 
gospel ;  thence  into  Phrygia,  Galatia,  and  Mysia ; 
from  whence  he  went  into  Macedonia,  and  first 
preached  at  Philippi,  then  at  Thessalonica  and 
Beroea,  afterwards  stayed  some  considerable  time 
at  Athens,  and  last  of  all  went  to  Corinth,  where 
he  met  with  Aquila  and  Priscilla,  lately  come  from 
Italy,  banished  Rome,  with  the  rest  of  the  Jews, 
by  the  decree  of  Claudius  ;  all  which,  by  an  easy 
and  reasonable  computation,  can  make  up  no  less 
than  three  years  at  least. 

6.  That  which  caused  Baronius  to  split  upon  so 
many  rocks,  was  not  so  much  want  of  seeing  them, 
which  a  man  of  his  parts  and  industry  could  not 
but  in  a  great  measure  see,  as  the  unhappy  ne- 
cessity of  defending  those  unsound  principles 
which  he  had  undertaken  to  maintain.  For  being 
to  make  good  Peter's  five-and-twenty  year's  pre- 
sidency over  the  church  of  Rome,  he  was  forced 
to  confound  times,  and  dislocate  stories,  that  he 
might  bring  all  his  ends  together.  What  foun- 
dation this  story  of  Peter's  being  five-and-twenty 
years  bisiiop  of  Rome  has  in  antiquity,  I  find  not ; 
unless  it  sprang  from  hence,  that  Eusebius  places 
Peter's  coming  to  Rome  in  the  second  year  of  Clau- 
dius, and  his  martyrdom  in  the  fourteenth  of 
Nero ;  between  which  there  is  just  the  space  of 
five-and-twenty  years ;  whence  those  that  came 
after  concluded  that  he  sat  bishop  there  all  that 
time.  It  cannot  be  denied  but  that  in  St.  Jerome's 
translation  it  is  expressly  said,  that  he  continued 
five-and-twenty  years  bishop  of  that  city :  but  then 
it  is  as  evident  that  this  was  his  own  addition, 
who  probably  set  things  down  as  the  report  went 
in  his  time,  no  such  thing  being  to  be  found  in  the 
Greek  copy  of  Eusebius.  Nor  indeed  does  he 
ever  there  or  elsewhere  positively  affirm  St.  Peter 
to  have  been  bishop  of  Rome,  but  only  that  he 
preached  tiie  gospel  there ;  and  expressly  affirms, 
that  he  and  St.  Paul  being  dead,  Linus  was  the 
first  bishop  of  Rome.*  To  which  I  may  add,  that 
when  the  ancients  speak  of  the  bishops  of  Rome, 
and  the  first  originals  of  that  church,  they  equally 
attribute  the  founding  and  the  episcopacy  and  go- 
vernment of  it  to  Peter  and  Paul,  making  the  one 


as  much  concerned  in  it  as  the  other.  Thus  Epi- 
phanius,  reckoning  up  the  bishops  of  that  see, 
places  Peter  and  Paul  in  the  front,  as  the  first 
bishops  of  Rome  :  "  Peter  and  Paul,  apostles,  be- 
came the  first  bishops  of  Rome  ;  then  Linus,"  &c. 
And  again,  a  little  after  :  "The  succession  of  the 
bishops  of  Rome  was  in  tliis  manner  ;  Peter  and 
Paul,  Linus,  Cletus,"  &ic.  And  Hegesippus, 
speaking  of  their  coming  to  Rome,  equally  says  of 
them,  that  they  were  Doctores  Christianorum, 
sublimes operibus,  clari magis/erio :  "The  instruc- 
tors of  the  Christians,  admirable  for  miracles,  and 
renowned  for  their  authority."  However,  grant- 
ing not  only  that  he  was  there,  but  that  he  was 
bishop,  and  that  for  five-and-twenty  years  toge- 
ther, yet  what  would  this  make  for  the  unhmited 
sovereignty  and  universality  of  that  church,  un- 
less a  better  evidence  than  "feed  my  sheep"  could 
be  produced  for  its  uncontrolable  supremacy  and 
dominion  over  the  whole  Christian  world  1 

7.  The  sum  is  this :  granting  what  none  that 
has  any  reverence  for  antiquity  will  deny,  that  St. 
Peter  was  at  Rome;  he  probably  came  thither 
some  few  years  before  his  death,  joined  with  and 
assisted  St.  Paul  in  preaching  of  the  gospel,  and 
then  both  sealed  the  testimony  of  it  with  their 
blood.  The  date  of  his  death  is  difierently  as- 
signed by  the  ancients.  Eusebius  places  it  in 
the  year  69,  in  the  fourteenth  of  Nero ;  Epipha- 
nius  in  the  twelfth.  That  which  seems  to  me 
most  probable  is,  that  it  was  in  the  tenth,  or  the 
year  65 ;  which  I  thus  compute.  Nero's  burning 
of  Rome  is  placed  by  Tacitus,  under  the  consul- 
ship of  C.  Lecanius  and  M.  Licinius,  about  the 
month  of  July,  that  is,  anno  Chr.  64.  This  act 
procured  him  the  infinite  hatred  and  clamours  of 
the  people,  which  having  in  vain  endeavored  se- 
veral ways  to  remove  and  pacify,  he  at  last  re- 
solved upon  this  project,  to  drive  the  odium  upon 
the  Christians ;  whom  therefore,  both  to  appease 
the  gods  and  please  the  people,  he  condemned  as 
guilty  of  the  fact,  and  caused  to  be  executed  with 
all  manner  of  acute  and  exquisite  tortures.  This 
persecution  we  may  suppose  began  about  the  end 
of  that,  or  the  beginning  of  the  following  year.— 
And  under  this  persecution,  I  doubt  not,  it  was 
that  St.  Peter  suffered,  and  changed  earth  for 
heaven. 


AN  APPENDIX 


*  Hist.  Eccles.  lib.  iii.  c.  2,  p.  71. 

The  words  of  Eusebius  are,  that  Clemens  was  the 
third  amons  the  bishops  from  Peter  and  Paul— 
Linus  having  been  the  first,  and  Anencletus  the 
second.  On  this  passage  the  learned  editor, Valesius 
observes,  that  it  is  not  to  he  supposed  that  Paul  was 
more  honorable  than   Peter  because  named  first; 


TO   THE   PRECEDING   SECTION, 

Containing  a  vindication  of  St.  Peter's  being 
at  Rome. 

Finding  the  truth  of  what  is  supposed  and  grant- 
ed in  the  foregoing  section,  to  wit,  St.  Peter's 
going  to  and  sutfering  at  Rome,  not  only  doubted 
of  heretofore  in  the  beginning  of  the  Reformation, 
while  the  paths  of  antiquity  were  less  frequented 


placed  on  the  right  hand,  and  Peter  on  the  left;  and 
thai  though  Eusebius  indeed  does  not  here  number 
the  apostles  in  the  order  of  bishops,  he,  in  his 
Chronicon,  ascribes  the  Roman  episcopacy  to  Peter 
that  in   the  sjeals  of  the  Roman  church  he  was  I  alone. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


53 


and  beaten  out;  but  now  again,  lately,  in  this 
broad  day-light  of  ecclesiastical  knowledge,  not 
only  called  in  question,  but  exploded  as  most  vain 
and  fabulous,  and  that  especially  by  a  foreign  pro- 
fessor of  name  and  note,*  it  may  not  be  amiss, 
having  the  opportunity  of  this  impression,  to  make 
some  few  remarks  for  the  better  clearing  of  this 
matter. 

2.  And  first,  I  observe  that  this  matter  of  fact 
is  attested  by  witnesses  of  the  most  remote  an- 
tiquity, persons  of  great  eminency  and  authority, 
and  who  lived  near  enough  to  those  times  to  know 
the  truth  and  certainty  of  those  things  which  they 
reported.  And  perhaps  there  is  scarce  any  one 
piece  of  ancient  church  history  for  which  there  is 
more  clear,  full,  and  constant  evidence,  than  there 
is  for  this.  Not  to  insist  on  that  passage  of  Ig- 
natius, in  his  epistle  to  ihe  Romans,  which  seems 
yet  to  look  this  way,  it  is  expressly  asserted  by 
Papias,  bishop  of  Hierapolis  or  Phrygia,  who  (as 
IreniEus  tells  us)  was  scholar  to  St.  John,  and  fel- 
low-pupil with  St.  Polycarp ;  and  though  we 
should,  with  Eusebius,  suppose  it  was  not  St. 
John  the  apostle,  whose  scholar  he  was,  but  an- 
other sirnamed  the  Elder,  that  lived  at  Ephesus, 
yet  will  this  set  him  very  little  lower  in  point  of 
time.  Now,  Papias  says  not  only  that  St.  Peter 
was  at  Rome,  and  preached  the  Christian  faith 
there,  but  that  he  wrote  thence  his  first  epistle, 
and  by  his  authority  confirmed  the  gospel,  which 
St.  Mark,  his  disciple  and  follower,  at  the  request 
of  the  Romans,  had  drawn  up.  And  that  we  may 
see  that  he  did  not  carelessly  take  up  these  things 
as  common  hearsays,  it  was  his  custom,  wherever 
he  met  with  any  that  had  conversed  with  the 
apostles,  to  pick  up  what  memoirs  he  could  meet 
with  concerning  them;  and  particularly  to  inquire 
what  Andrew,  what  Peter,  what  Philip,  what 
Thomas  or  James,  or  the  rest  of  the  disciples  of 
our  Lord,  had  either  said  or  done.  Which  suffi- 
ciently shows  what  care  he  took  to  derive  the 
most  accurate  notices  of  these  matters. 

3.  Ne.xt  Papias  comes  Irenjeus,  a  man,  as  St. 
Jerome  styles  him,  of  the  apostolic  times  ;  and 
was,  he  tells  us,  Papias's  own  scholar ;  however, 
it  is  certain,  from  his  own  account  that  he  was 
disciple  to  St.  Polycarp,  a  man  famous  for  his 
learning,  gravity,  and  piety,  throughout  the  whole 
Christian  world.  About  the  year  179  he  was 
made  bishop  of  the  metropolitan  church  of  Lyons, 
in  France  ;  a  Uttle  before  wliich  he  had  been  des- 
patched upon  a  message  to  Rome,  and  had  con- 
versed with  the  great  men  there.  Now,  his  tes- 
timony in  this  case  is  uncontrollable  ;  for  he  says, 
that  Peter  and  Paul  preached  the  gospel  at  Rome, 
and  founded  a  church  there  ;  and  elsewhere,  that 
the  great  and  most  ancient  church  of  Rome  was 
founded  and  constituted  by  the  two  glorious  apos- 
tles, Peter  and  Paul ;  and  that  these  blessed  apostles, 
having  founded  this  church,  delivered  the  episco- 
pal care  of  it  over  unto  Linus.     Contemporary 

*  Spanheim,  the  author  alluded  to,  is  a  writer  of 
great  learning  and  ability,  but  he  expresses  his 
opinions  with  the  spirit  of  a  controversialist ;  and 
not  only  disputes  facts  which  contradict  his  views, 
but  too  frequently  ascribes  the  actions  and  senti- 
ments of  those  to  whom  he  is  opposed  to  false  mo- 
tives.—Ed. 


with  Irenseus,  or  rather  a  little  before  him,  was 
Dionysius,  bishop  of  Corinth,  a  man  of  singular 
eminency  and  authority  in  those  times  ;  who,  in  an 
epistle  which  he  wrote  to  the  church  of  Rome, 
compares  the  plantation  of  Christianity  which 
Peter  and  Paul  had  made  both  at  Rome  and  Co- 
rinth ;  and  says  further,  that  after  they  had  sown 
the  seeds  of  the  evangelical  doctrine  at  Corinth, 
they  went  together  into  Italy,  where  they  taught 
the  faith,  and  sufi'ered  martyrdom. 

4.  Towards  the  latter  end  of  the  second  cen- 
tury flourished  Clemens  of  Ale.xandria,  presbyter 
of  that  church,  and  regent  of  the  catechetic 
school  there,  who  in  his  book  of  Institutions,  gives 
the  very  same  testimony  which  we  quoted  from 
Papias  before;  they  being  both  brought  in  by 
Eusebius  as  joint  evidence  in  this  matter.  Ter- 
tullian,  who  lived  much  about  the  same  tl^ne  at 
Carthage,  that  Clemens  did  at  Alexandria,  and 
had  been,  as  is  probable,  more  than  once  at  Rome, 
affirms  most  expressly,  more  than  once  and  again, 
that  the  church  of  Rome  was  happy  in  having  its 
doctrine  sealed  with  apostolic  blood  ;  and  that 
Peter  was  crucified  in  that  place,  or,  as  he  ex- 
presses it,  passioni  Dominiat  adctquaius ;  that 
Peter  baptized  in  Tiber,  as  John  the  Baptist  had 
done  in  Jordan  and  elsewhere  ;  that  when  Nero 
first  dyed  the  yet  tender  faith  of  Rome  with  the 
blood  of  its  professors,  then  it  was  that  Peter  was 
girt  by  another,  and  bound  to  the  cross. 

5.  Next  to  Tertullian  succeeds  Caius,  an  ec 
clesiastical  person,  as  Eusebius  calls  him,  flourish- 
ing in  the  year  204,  in  the  time  of  pope  Zephyrin  ; 
who,  in  a  book  which  he  wrote  against  Proclus, 
one  of  the  heads  of  the  Cataphrygian  sect,  speak- 
ing  concerning  the  places  where  the  bodies  of  St. 
Peter  and  St.  Paul  were  buried,  has  these  words  : 
"  I  am  able  to  show  the  very  tombs  of  the  apostles, 
for  whether  you  go  into  the  Vatican  or  into  the 
Via  Ostiensis,  you  wiU  meet  with  the  sepulchres 
of  those  that  founded  that  church,"  meaning  the 
church  of  Rome.  The  last  witness  whom  I  shall 
produce  in  this  case  is  Origen,  a  man  justly  re- 
verenced for  his  great  learning  and  piety;  and 
who  took  a  journey  to  Rome  v/hile  pope  Zephyrin 
yet  lived,  on  purpose,  as  himself  tells  us,  to  beliold 
that  church  so  venerable  for  its  antiquity ;  and 
therefore  cannot  but  be  supposed  very  inquisitive 
to  satisfy  himself  in  all,  especially  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal antiquities  of  that  place.  Now  he  expressly 
says  of  Peter,  that  after  he  had  preached  to  the 
dispersed  Jews  of  the  eastern  parts,  he  came  at 
last  to  Rome,  where,  according  to  his  own  request, 
he  was  crucified  with  his  head  downwards.  Lower 
than  Origen  I  need  not  descend  ;  it  being  granted 
by  those  who  oppose  this  story,  that  in  the  time  of 
Origen,  the  report  of  St.  Peter's  going  to,  and 
suffering  martyrdom  at  Rome,  was  commonly  re- 
ceived  in  the  Christian  church.  And  now  I  would 
fain  know,  what  one  passage  of  those  ancient 
times  can  be  proved  either  by  more,  or  by  more 
considerable  evidence  than  this  is :  and,  indeed, 
considering  how  small  a  portion  of  the  writings  of 
those  first  ages  of  the  church  have  been  trans- 
mitted to  us,  there  is  much  greater  cause  rather 
to  wonder  that  we  should  have  so  many  witnesses 
in  this  case,  than  that  we  liave  no  more. 

6.  Secondly;  I  observe  that  the  arguments 
brought  to  shake  the  credit  of  tfiis  story,  and  the 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


exceptions  made  to  these  ancient  testimonies,  are 
ve^Sveak  and  trifling,  and  altogether  unbe- 
coming  the  learning  and  gravity  of  those  that 
make  them.  For  arguments  against  it,  what  can 
be  more  weak  and  inconcluding  than  to  assert  the 
fabulousness  of  tliis  story,  because  no  mention  is 
made  of  it  by  St.  Luke,  in  the  apostolical  history; 
no  footsteps  of  it  to  be  found  in  any  of  St.  Paul's 
epistles  written  from  Rome :  as  if  he  might  not 
come  thither  time  enough  after  the  accounts  of 
the  sacred  story  do  expire.  That  St.  Peter  was 
never  at  Rome,  because  Clemens  Romanus  says 
nothing  of  it  in  his  epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  when 
yet  he  mentions  St.  Paul's  coming  to  the  bounds 
of  the  west ;  and  what  yet  is  more  absurd,  be- 
cause no  notice  is  taken  of  it  by  the  Roman  his- 
torians who  wrote  the  acts  of  that  age ;  especially 
Tacitus,  Suetonius,  and  Dio :  as  if  these  great 
vvriters  had  had  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  fill  their 
commentaries  with  accounts  concerning  Christians, 
whom  it  is  plain  they  despised  and  scorned,  and 
looked  upon  as  a  contemptible,  execrable  sort  of 
men  ;  and  therefore  very  little  beside  the  bare 
mention  of  them,  and  that  too  but  rarely,  is  to  be 
met  with  in  any  of  their  writings ;  much  less  can 
it  be  expected  that  they  should  give  an  account 
of  the  accidents  and  circumstances  of  particular 
Christians :  besides  that,  this  whole  way  of  reason- 
ing is  negative,  and  purely  depends  upon  the 
silence  of  some  few  authors,  which  can  signify 
nothing  where  there  is  such  a  current  and  uncon- 
trollable tradition,  and  so  many  positive  authorities 
to  the  contrary.  And  yet  these  are  the  best,  and 
almost  only  arguments  that  are  offered  in  this 
matter. 

7.  And  of  no  greater  force  or  weight  are  the 
exceptions  made  to  the  testimonies  of  tlie  an- 
cients, whicii  we  have  produced,  as  will  appear  by 
a  summary  enumeration  of  the  most  material  of 
them.  Against  Papias's  evidence,  it  is  excepted, 
that  he  was  as  Eusubius  characters  him  "  a  man  of 
a  very  weak  andundiscerning  judgment,"  and  that 
he  derived  several  things  strange  and  unheard  of 
from  mere  tradition.  But  all  this  is  said  of  him 
by  Eusebius,  only  upon  the  account  of  some 
doctrinal  principles  and  opinions,  and  some  rash 
and  absurd  expositions  of  our  Saviour's  doctrine, 
carelessly  taken  up  from  others,  and  handed  down 
without  due  examination  ;  particularly  his  millen- 
nary  of  Cliiiiastic  notions  :  but  what  is  this  to  in- 
validate his  testimony  in  the  case  before  us,  a 
matter  of  a  quite  different  nature  from  those 
mentioned  by  Eusebius?  May  not  a  man  be  mis- 
taken in  abstruse  speculations,  and  yet  be  fit 
enough  to  judge  in  ordinary  cases  1  As  if  none 
but  a  man  of  acute  parts  and  a  subtile  apprehen- 
sion, one  able  to  pierce  into  the  reasons,  consis- 
tency, and  consequences  of  doctrinal  conclusions, 
were  capable  to  deliver  down  matters  of  fact, 
things  fresh  in  memory,  done  within  much  less 
than  a  hundred  years ;  in  themselves  highly  pro- 
bable, and  wherein  no  interest  could  be  served, 
either  for  liim  to  deceive  others,  or  for  other  to 
deceive  him. 

8.  Against  Irena^us  it  is  put  in  bar,  that  he  gave 
not  this  testimony  till  after  his  return  from  Rome  ; 
that  is,  about  a  hundred  and  forty  yeafs  after  St. 
Peter's  first  pretended  coming  thither ;  which  is 
no  great  abatement  in  a  testimony  of  so  remote 


antiquity,  when  they  had  so  many  evidences  and 
opportunities  of  satisfying  themselves  in  the  truth 
of  things,  which  to  us  are  utterly  lost.  That  be- 
fore his  time  many  frivolous  traditions  began  to 
take  place,  and  that  he  himself  is  sometimes  mis- 
taken ;  the  proper  inference  from  which,  if  pur- 
sued to  its  just  issue,  must  be  this,  either  that  he 
is  always  mistaken,  or  at  least  that  he  is  so  in 
this.  .         ,  ^    .    ,     . 

9.  The  authority  of  Dionysius  of  Corinth  is 
thrown  off  with  this,  that  it  is  of  no  greater  value 
than  that  of  Irenseus :  that  churches  then  began 
to  emulate  each  other,  by  pretending  to  be  of  apos- 
tolical foundation  ;  and  that  Dionysius  herein  con- 
sulted the  honor  of  his  own  clmrch,  by  deriving 
upon  it  the  authority  of  those  two  great  apostles 
Peter  and  Paul;  and  in  that  respect  setting  it  on 
the  same  level  with  Rome  :  which  yet  is  a  mere 
suggestion  of  his  own,  and  so  far  as  it  respects 
Dionysius,  is  said  without  any  just  warrant  from 
antiquity.  Besides,  his  testimony  itself  is  called  m 
question,  for  affirming  that  Peter  and  Paul  went 
together  from  Corinth  into  Italy,  and  there  taught 
and  suffered  martyrdom  at  the  same  time.  Against 
their  coming  together  to  Corinth,  and  thence  pass- 
ino-  into  Italy,  nothing  is  brought ;  but  that  the  ac- 
count  St.  Luke  gives  of  the  travels  and  preach- 
ings of  these  apostles  is  not  consistent  with  St. 
Peter's  coming  to  Rome  under  Claudius  ;  which 
let  them  look  to  whose  interest  it  is  that  it  should 
be  so ;  I  mean  them  of  the  church  of  Rome. 
And  for  his  saying  that  they  suffered  martyrdom 
Kara  rov  avTov  Katpov,  at  the  same  time  ;  it  does  not 
necessarily  imply  their  suffering  the  same  day  and 
year,  but  admits  of  some  considerable  distance  of 
time  :  it  being  elsewhere  granted  by  our  author, 
that  this  phrase,  Kara  tctov  tov  ;^povov,  is  often 
used  by  .losephus  in  a  lax  sense,  as  including  what 
happened  within  the  compaSs  of  some  years. 

10.  To  enervate  the  testimony  of  Clemens 
Alexandrinus,  it  is  said,  (with  how  little  pretence 
of  reason  let  any  man  judge,)  that  Eusebius  quotes 
it  out  of  a  book  of  Clemens,  that  is  now  lost ;  and 
that  he  tells  us  not  whence  St.  Clemens  derived 
the  report :  that  abundance  of  apocryphal  writings 
were  extant  in  his  time  ;  and  that  he  himself  in- 
serts a  great  many  frivolous  traditions  into  his 
writings.  Which  if  it  were  granted  would  do  no 
service  in  this  cause ;  unless  it  were  asserted,  that 
all  things  he  says  are  doubtful  or  fabulousj  because 
some  few  are  so. 

11.  Much  after  the  same  rate  it  is  argued  against 
Tertullian,  that  he  was  a  man  of  great  credulity  ; 
that  he  sets  down  some  passages  concerning  St. 
John  which  are  not  related  by  other  writers  of 
those  times  ;  that  he  was  mistaken  in  our  Sa- 
viour's age  at  the  time  of  his  passion  ;  that  he 
was  imposed  upon  in  the  account  he  says  Tiberius 
tjie  emperor  sent  to  the  senate  concerning  Clirist ; 
which,  forsooth,  must  needs  be  false,  because  no 
mention  is  made  of  it  by  Suetonius,  Tacitus,  or 
Dio. 

12.  Tlie  exceptions  to  Caius  are  no  whit  strong- 
er tlian  the  former,  viz. ;  that  he  flourished  but  in 
the  beginning  of  the  third  century,  when  many 
false  reports  were  set  on  foot ;  and  that  it  is  not 
reasonable  to  believe,  that  in  those  times  of  per- 
secution the  tombs  of  the  apostles  should  be  un- 
defaced,  and  had  in  such  public  honor  and  venera- 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


55 


tion.  As  if  the  places  where  the  apostles  were 
buried  could  not  be  familiarly  known  to  Christians, 
without  being  commonly  shown  to  their  heathen 
persecutors,  or  without  erecting  pompous  and 
stately  monuments  over  their  graves,  to  provoke 
the  rage  and  malice  of  their  enemies  to  fall  foul 
upon  them. 

13.  Against  Origen,  nothing  is  pretended,  but 
what  is  notoriously  vain  and  frivolous  ;  as,  that 
perhaps  his  reports  concerning  the  travels  of  the 
apostles  are  not  sufficiently  certain  :  that  in  some 
other  cases  he  produces  testimonies  out  of  apo- 
cryphal writings  ;  and  that  many  things  are  report- 
ed concerning  himself  which  are  at  best  obscure 
and  ambiguous  ;  and  that  Baronius  and  Valesius 
cannot  agree  about  the  time  of  his  journey  to 
Rome.  I  have  but  lightly  touched  upon  most  of 
these  exceptions,  because  the  very  mention  of 
them  is  enough  to  supersede  a  studied  and  operose 
confutation  ;  and,  indeed,  tiiey  are  generally  such 
as  may  with  equal  force  be  levelled  almost  against 
any  ancient  history. 

14.  Thirdly ;  I  observe  how  far  zeal,  even  for 
the  best  cause,  may  sometimes  transport  learned 
men  to  secure  it  by  undue  and  imprudent  methods ; 
and  such  as  one  would  think  were  made  use  of 
rather  to  show  the  acumen  and  subtdty  of  the 
author  than  any  strength  or  cogency  in  the  argu- 
ments.* Plain  it  is,  that  they  who  set  themselves 
to  undermine  this  story,  design  therein  to  serve 
the  interests  of  the  Protestant  cause,  against  the 
vain  and  imjust  pretences  of  the  see  of  Rome,  and 
utterly  to  subvert  the  very  foundations  of  that  title 
whereby  they  lay  claim  to  St.  Peter's  power. 
This  indeed,  could  it  be  fairly  made  good,  and  with- 
out offering  violence  to  the  authority  of  those  an- 
cient and  venerable  sages  of  the  Christian  church, 
would  give  a  mortal  blow  to  the  Romish  cause, 
and  free  us  from  several  of  their  groundless  and 
sophistical  allegations.  But  when  this  cannot  be 
done  without  calling  in  question  the  first  and  most 
early  records  of  the  church,  and  throwing  off  the 
authority  of  the  ancients,  non  tali  auxilio — truth 
needs  no  such  weapons  to  defend  itself,  but  is  able 
to  stand  up,  and  triumph  in  its  own  strength,  with- 
out calling  in  such  indirect  artifices  to  support  it. 
We  can  safely  grant  the  main  of  the  story,  that 
St.  Peter  did  go  to  Rome,  and  came  thither 
tv  Tt\u,  (as  Origen  expressly  says  he  did)  about 
the  latter  end  of  his  life,  and  there  suffered  mar- 
tyrdom for  the  faith  of  Christ ;  and  yet  is  this  no 
disadvantage  to  ourselves  ;  nay,  it  is  that  which 
utterly  confounds  all  their  accounts  of  things,  and 
proves  tlieir  pretended  story  of  St.  Peter's  being 
twenty-five  years  bishop  of  that  see,  to  be  not 
only  vain,  but  false,  as  has  been  sufficiently  shown 
in  the  foregoing  section.  But  to  deny  that  St. 
Peter  ever  was  at  Rome,  contrary  to  the  whole 
stream  and  current  of  antiquity,  and  the  unani- 
mous consent  of  the  most  early  writers,  and  that 
merely  upon  little  surmises,  and  trifling  cavils ; 
and  in  order  thereunto  to  treat  the  reverend 
fathers,  whose  memories  have  ever  been  dear  and 

*  The  observation  of  Lord  Bacon  (Advancement 
of  Learning,  p.  1,)  may  be  aptly  applied  to  more 
than  one  class  of  disputants:  "  It  is  good  to  ask  the 
question  which  Job  asked  of  his  friends,  '  Will  you 
he  for  God,  as  one  man  will  do  for  another  V  "—Ed.  I 
89  (21) 


sacred  in  the  Christian  church,  with  rude  reflec- 
tions and  spiteful  insinuations,  is  a  course,  I  con- 
fess, not  over  ingenuous,  and  might  give  too  much 
occasion  to  our  adversaries  of  the  church  of  Rome, 
to  charge  us  (as  they  sometimes  do,  falsely  enough) 
with  a  neglect  of  antiquity,  and  contempt  of  the 
fathers  ;  but  that  it  is  notoriously  known,  that  all 
the  great  names  of  the  Protestant  party,  men  most 
celebrated  for  learning  and  piety,  have  always  paid 
a  most  just  deference  and  veneration  to  antiquity  ; 
and  upon  that  account  have  freely  allowed  this 
story  of  St.  Peter's  going  to  Rome,  as  our  author, 
who  opposes  it,  is  forced  to  grant. 

15.  Fourthly;  it  deserves  to  be  considered, 
whether  the  needless  questioning  a  story  so  well 
attested,  may  not  in  time  open  too  wide  a  gap  to 
shake  the  credit  of  all  history.  For  if  things  done 
at  so  remote  a  distance  of  time,  and  which  have  all 
the  evidence  that  can  be  desired  to  make  them 
good,  may  be  doubted  of  or  denied,  merely  for  the 
sake  of  some  few  weak  and  insignificant  excep- 
tions which  may  be  made  against  them,  what  is 
there  that  can  be  secure  ?  There  are  few  pas- 
sages of  ancient  history,  against  which  a  man  of 
wit  and  parts  may  not  start  some  objections,  either 
from  the  writers  of  them,  or  from  the  account  of 
the  things  themselves  ;  and  shall  they  therefore 
be  presently  discarded,  or  condemned  to  the  num- 
ber of  the  false  or  fabulous?  If  this  liberty  be  in- 
dulged, farewell  church  history  ;  nay,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  whether  the  sacred  story  will  be  able  long 
to  maintain  its  divine  authority.  We  live  in  an 
age  of  great  scepticism  and  infidelity,  wherein 
men  have,  in  a  great  measure,  put  off*  the  rever- 
ence due  to  sacred  things  ;  and  witty  men  seem 
much  delighted  to  hunt  out  objections,  bestow 
their  censures,  expose  the  credit  of  former  ages, 
and  to  believe  little  but  what  themselves  either 
see  or  hear.  And  therefore  it  will  become  wise 
and  good  men  to  be  very  tender  how  they  loosen, 
much  more  remove  the  old  landmarks  which  the 
fathers  have  set,  lest  we  run  ourselyes  before  we 
be  aware  into  a  labyrinth  and  confusion,  from 
whence  it  wiU  not  be  easy  to  get  out.* 

*  The  value  of  these  observations  will  be  ac- 
knowledged bv  every  candid  inquirer  after  truth  : 
nor  can  it  be  doubted  but  that,  next  to  the  generat- 
ing of  angry  feeling,  the  greatest  evil  which  results 
from  the  existence  of  religious  disputes,  is  the  habit 
of  scepticism  they  foster,  so  that  doubt  is  engendered 
with  regard  to  one  class  of  truths  by  the  very  pro- 
cess employed  to  subdue  it  in  respect  to  another. 
This,  however,  is  a  consequence  of  the  disingenu- 
ousness  with  which  inquiries  are  pursued  when  un- 
dertaken in  the  spirit  of  partizanship,  and  is  not  a 
necessary  attendant  upon  controversy,  as  the  natu- 
ral fruit  of  difference  of  opinion  among  men  of  ac- 
tive and  inquisitive  intellects.  To  question  the  re- 
ality of  a  fact  which  cannot  be  distinctly  disproved 
is  to  place  the  system  contended  for  in  peril ;  for  the 
moment  it  is  allowed  that  the  disputed  circumstance 
is  of  such  value  to  the  opposite  argument,  that  not 
to  dispute  it  is  to  leave  the  adversary  in  possession 
of  the  field,  one  of  these  things  must  of  necessity 
follow — either  the  testimony  of  history  is  invalidat- 
ed by  bold  attacks  on  evidence  sufficiently  probable 
for  conviction  in  all  ordinary  cases;  or  the  victory 
remains  on  the  side  of  those  who  have  the  fact,  so 
confessedly  important,  for  the  support  of  their  opi- 
nions.— En. 


56 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


ST.    PAUL. 


SECTION  L 


Of  St.  Paul,  from  his  Birth  till  his  Conversion. 

Though  St.  Paul  was  none  of  the  twelve  apostles, 
yet  had  he  the  honor  of  being  an  apostle  extraor- 
(Unary,  and  to  be  immediately  called  in  a  way  pe- 
culiar to  himself.  He  justly  deserves  a  place  next 
St.  Peter  ;  for  as  "  in  their  lives  they  were  plea- 
sant and  lovely,"  so  "  in  their  death  they  were  not 
divided  :"  esp'ecially  if  it  be  true,  that  they  both 
suffered,  not  only  for  the  same  cause,  but  at  the 
same  time,  as  well  as  place.  St.  Paul  was  born 
at  Tarsus,  the  metropolis  of  Cilicia  ;  a  city  infi- 
nitely rich  and  populous :  and  what  contributed 
more  to  the  fame  and  honor  of  it,  an  academy 
furnished  with  schools  of  learning,  where  the 
scholars  so  closely  plied  their  studies,  that,  as 
Strabo  informs  us,  they  excelled  in  all  arts  of  po- 
lite learning  and  philosophy  those  of  other  places  ; 
yea,  even  of  Alexandria  and  Athens  itself;  and 
that  even  Rome  was  beholden  to  it  for  many  of 
its  best  professors.  It  was  a  Roman  municipium, 
or  free  corporation,  invested  with  many  franchises 
and  privileges  by  Julius  Caesar  and  Augustus, 
who  granted  to  the  inhabitants  of  it  the  honors 
and  immunities  of  citizens  of  Rome.  In  which 
respect  St.  Paul  owned  and  asserted  it  as  the  pri- 
vilege of  his  birthright,  that  he  was  a  Roman,  and 
thereby  free  from  being  bound  or  beaten.*  True 
it  is,  that  St.  Jerome  (followed  herein  by  one  who 
himself  travelled  in  those  parts)  makes  him  born 
at  Gischalis,  a  well-fortified  town  m  Judea,  which 
being  besieged  and  taken  by  the  Roman  army, 
his  parents  fled  away  with  him  and  dwelt  at  Tar- 
sus. But  besides  that  this  contradicts  St.  Paul, 
who  expressly  affirms  that  he  was  born  at  Tarsus, 
there  needs  no  more  to  confute  this  opinion,  than 
that  St.  Jerome  elsewhere  slights  it  as  a  fabulous 
report. 

His  parents  were  Jews,  and  that  of  the  an- 
cient stock,  not  entering  in  by  the  gate  of  proselyt- 
ism,  but  originally  descended  from  that  nation  ; 
which  surely  he  means  when  he  says,  that  he 
was  "  an  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews  ;"  either  be- 
cause both  hie  parents  were  Jews,  or  rather  that 
all  his  ancestors  had  been  so.  They  belonged  to 
the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  whose  founder  was  the 
youngest  son  of  the  old  patriarch  Jacob,  who  thus 
prophesied  of  him  :  "Benjamin  shall  raven  as  a 
wolf ;  in  the  morning  he  shall  devour  the  prey, 
and  at  night  he  shall  divide  the  spoil-"t  This 
prophetical  character  Tertullian,  and  others  after 
him,  will  have  to  be  accomplished  in  our  apostle. 
As  a  "  ravening  wolf  in  the  morning  devouring 
the  prey  ;"  that  is,  as  a  persecutor  of  the  churches 
in  the  first  part  of  his  life,  destroying  the  flock  of 
God  :  "  in  the  evening  dividing  "the  spoil ;"  that 
is,  in  his  declining  and  reduced  age,  as  doctor 
of  the  nations,  feeding  and  distributing  to  Christ's 
Bheep. 

3.  We  find  him  described  by  two  names  in 
Scripture,  one  Hebrew  and  the  other  Latin  ;  pro- 
bably referring  both  to  the  Jewish  and  Roman 


Acts  xxii.  25,  26. 


capacity  and  relation.  The  one  Saul,  a  name  fre- 
quent and  common  in  the  tribe  of  Benjamin  ever 
since  the  first  king  of  Israel,  who  was  of  that 
name,  was  chosen  out  of  that  tribe  ;  in  memory 
whereof  they  were  wont  to  give  their  children  this 
name  at  their  circumcision  :  his  other  was  Paul, 
assumed  by  him,  as  some  think,  at  his  conversion, 
to  denote  his  humility  ;  as  others,  in  memory  of 
his  converting  Sergius  Paulus,  the  Roman  gover- 
nor ;  in  imitation  of  the  generals  and  emperors  of 
Rome,  who  were  wont  from  the  places  and  na- 
tions that  they  conquered  to  assume  the  name,  as 
an  additional  honor  and  title  to  themselves :  as 
Scipio  Africanus,  Csesar  Germanicus,  Parthicus, 
Sarmaticus,  &c.  But  this  seems  no  way  consist- 
ent with  the  great  humility  of  this  apostle.  More 
probable  therefore  it  is,  what  Origen  thinks,  that 
he  had  a  double  name  given  him  at  his  circum- 
cision ;  Saul,  relating  to  his  Jewish  original,  and 
Paul,  referring  to  the  Roman  corporation  where 
he  was  born  :  and  this  the  Scripture  seems  to  fa- 
vor when  it  says,  "  Saul,  who  is  also  called  Paul." 
And  this,  perhaps,  may  be  the  reason  why  St. 
Luke,  so  long  as  he  speaks  of  him  as  conversant 
among  the  Jews  in  Syria,  styles  him  Saul ;  but 
afterwards,  when  he  left  those  parts  and  went 
among  the  Gentiles,  he  gives  him  the  name  of 
Paul,  as  a  name  more  frequent  and  familiarly 
known  to  them :  and,  for  the  same  reason,  no 
doubt,  he  constantly  calls  himself  by  that  name  in 
all  his  epistles  written  to  the  Gentile  churches. 
Or,  if  it  was  taken  up  by  him  afterwards,  it  was 
probably  done  at  his  conversion,  according  to  the 
custom  and  manner  of  the  Hebrews,  who  used 
many  times,  upon  solemn  and  eminent  occa- 
sions, especially  upon  their  entermg  upon  a  more 
strict  and  religious  course  of  life,  to  change 
their  names,  and  assume  one  which  they  had  not 
before. 

4.  In  his  youth  he  was  brought  up  in  the  schools 
of  Tarsus,  fully  instructed  in  all  the  liberal  arts 
and  sciences,  whereby  ho  became  admirably  ac- 
quainted with  foreign  and  external  authors.  To- 
gether with  which,  he  was  brought  up  to  a  parti- 
cular trade  and  course  of  life  ;  according  to  the 
great  maxim  and  principle  of  the  Jews,  that  "  He 
who  teaches  not  his  son  a  trade,  teaches  him  to 
be  a  thief."  They  thought  it  not  only  fit,  but  a 
necessary  part  of  education,  for  their  wisest  and 
most  learned  rabbins  to  be  brought  up  to  a  manual 
trade,  whereby,  if  occasion  was,  they  might  be 
able  to  mamtain  themselves.  Hence,  as  Drusius 
observes,  nothing  more  common  in  their  writings, 
than  to  have  them  denominated  from  their  call- 
ings. Rabbi  Jose,  the  tanner.  Rabbi  Jochanan,  the 
shoemaker.  Rabbi  Juda,  the  baker,  &c.  A  cus- 
tom taken  up  by  the  Christians,  especially  the 
monks  and  ascetics  of  the  primitive  times,  who, 
together  with  their  strict  profession,  and  almost 
incredible  exercises  of  devotion,  each  took  upon 
him  a  particular  trade,  whereat  he  daily  wrought, 
I  and  by  his  own  hand-labor  maintained  himself, 
i  And  this  course  of  hfe  the  Jews  were  very  care- 
I  ful  should  be  free  from  all  suspicion  of  scandal, 
(as  they  call  it,)  a  clean,  that  is,  honest  trade  ;  , 
being  wont  to  say,  "That  he  was  happy  that  had 
j  his  parents  employed  in  an  honest  and  commend- 
able calling  ;"  as  he  was  miserable,  who  saw  them 
I  conversant  in  any  sordid  and  dishonest  course  of 


t  Gen.  xlix.  27. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


57 


life.  The  trade  our  apostle  was  put  to,  was  that 
of  tent-making  ;*  whereat  he  wrought,  for  some 
particular  reasons,  even  after  his  calling  to  the 
apostolate.  An  honest  but  mean  course  of  life  ; 
and,  as  Chrysostom  observes,  an  argument  that  his 
parents  were  not  of  the  nobler  and  better  rank ; 
however,  it  was  a  useful  and  gainful  trade,  espe- 
cially in  those  warlilce  countries,  where  armies 
had  such  frequent  use  of  tents. 

5x  Having  run  through  the  whole  circle  of  the 
sciences,  and  laid  the  sure  foundations  of  human 
learning  at  Tarsus,  he  was  by  his  parents  sent  to 
Jerusalem,  to  be  perfected  in  the  study  of  the  law, 
and  put  under  the  tutorage  of  Rabban  Gamaliel. 
This  Gamaliel  was  the  son  of  Rabban  Symeon 
(probably  presumed  to  be  the  same  Symeon  that 
came  into  the  temple,  and  took  Christ  into  his 
armsf)  president  of  the  court  of  the  Sanhedrim : 
he  was  a  doctor  of  the  law,  a  person  of  great  wis- 
dom and  prudence,  and  head  at  that  time  of  one 
of  the  families  of  the  schools  at  Jerusalem.  A 
man  of  chief  eminency  and  authority  in  the  Jewish 
Sanhedrim,  and  president  of  it  at  that  very  time 
when  our  blessed  Saviour  was  brought  before  it. 
He  hved  to  a  great  age,  and  was  buried  by  Onke- 
los  the  proselyte,  author  of  the  Chaldee  para- 
phrase, (one  who  infinitely  loved  and  honored 
him,)  at  his  own  vast  expense  and  charge.  He 
it  was  that  made  that  wise  and  excellent  speech 
in  the  Sanhedrim,  in  favor  of  the  apostles  and 
their  religion.  Nay,  he  himself  is  said  (though  1 
know  not  why)  to  have  been  a  Christian ;  and  his 
sitting  among  the  senators  to  have  been  connived 
at  by  the  apostles,  that  he  might  be  the  better 
friend  to  their  affairs.  Chrysippus,  presbyter  of 
the  church  of  Jerusalem,  adds,  that  he  was  bro- 
ther's son  to  Nicodemus,  together  with  whom  he 
and  his  son  Abib  were  baptized  by  Peter  and 
John.  This  account  he  derives  from  Lucian,  a 
presbyter  also  of  that  church,  under  John,  patri- 
arch of  Jerusalem ;  who  in  an  epistle  of  his  still 
extant,  teUs  us,  that  he  had  this,  together  with 
some  other  things,  communicated  to  him  in  a  vi- 
sion by  Gamaliel  himself ;  which,  if  true,  no  bet- 
ter evidence  could  be  desired  in  this  matter.  At 
the  feet  of  this  Gamaliel,  St.  Paul  tells  us,  he  was 
brought  up ;  alluding  to  the  custom  of  the  Jewish 
masters,  who  were  wont  to  sit,  while  their  disciples 
and  scholars  stood  at  their  feet.  Which  honorary 
custom  continued  until  the  death  of  this  Gamaliel, 
and  was  then  left  off.  Their  own  Talmud  telling 
us,  "  That  since  our  old  Rabban  Gamaliel  died, 
the  honor  of  the  law  was  perished,  purity  and 
Pharisaism  were  destroyed."  Which  the  gloss 
thus  explains  :  "That  whilst  he  lived,  men  were 
sound,  and  studied  the  law  standing ;  but  he  being 
dead,  weakness  crept  into  the  world,  and  they 
were  forced  to  sit." 

6.  Under  the  tuition  of  this  great  master,}:  St. 
Paul  was  educated  in  the  knowledge  of  the  law, 
wherein  he  made  such  quick  and  vast  improve- 
ments, that  he  soon  outstripped  his  fellow-disci- 
ples. Amongst  the  various  sects  at  that  time  in 
the  Jewish  church,  he  was  especially  educated  in 
the  principles  and  institutions  of  the  Pharisees  ;  of 

♦Acts  xviii.  3. 

t  Acts  xxii.  3.  and  iv.  34. 

tGal.  i.  14. 


which  sect  was  both  his  father  and  his  master ; 
whereof  he  became  a  most  earnest  and  zealous 
professor;  this  being,  as  himself  tells  us,  the 
strictest  sect  of  their  religion.  For  the  under- 
standing whereof,  it  may  not  be  amiss  a  little  to 
inquire  into  the  temper  and  manner  of  this  sect. 
Josephus,*  though  himself  a  Pharisee,  gives  this 
character  of  them;  "That  they  were  a  crafty  and 
subtile  generation  of  men ;  and  so  perverse,  even 
to  princes  themselves,  that  they  would  not  fear, 
many  times,  openly  to  affront  and  oppose  them." 
And  so  far  had  they  insinuated  themselves  into 
the  affections  and  estimations  of  the  populacy, 
that  their  good  or  ill  word  was  enough  to  make  or 
blast  any  one  with  the  people  ;  who  would  impli- 
citly believe  them,  let  their  report  be  never  so 
false  or  malicious.f  And  therefore  Alexander 
Jannajus,  when  he  lay  a-dying,  wisely  advised  his 
queen  by  all  means  to  comply  with  them,  and  to 
seem  to  govern  by  their  counsel  and  direction  ; 
affirming  that  this  had  been  the  greatest  cause  of 
his  fatal  miscarriage,  and  that  which  had  derived 
the  odium  of  the  nation  upon  him ;  that  he  had 
offended  this  sort  of  men.  Certain  it  is,  that  they 
were  infinitely  proud  and  insolent,  surly  and  ill- 
natured  ;  that  they  hated  all  mankind  but  them- 
selves, and  censured  whoever  would  not  be  of 
their  way,  as  a  villain  and  reprobate;  greatly 
zealous  to  gather  proselytes  to  their  party,  not  to 
make  them  more  religious,  but  more  fierce  and 
cruel,  more  carping  and  censorious,  more  heady 
and  high-minded  ;  in  short, — "  twofold  more  the 
children  of  the  devil  than  they  were  before."  All 
religion  and  kindness  was  confined  within  the 
bounds  of  their  own  party ;  and  the  first  princi- 
ples wherewith  they  inspired  their  new  converts 
were,  that  none  but  they  were  the  godly  party, 
and  that  all  other  persons  were  slaves  and  sons  of 
the  earth ;  and  therefore  especially  endeavored  to 
inspire  them  with  a  mighty  zeal  and  fierceness 
against  all  that  differed  from  them ;  so  that  if  any 
one  did  but  speak  a  good  word  of  our  Saviour,  he 
should  be  presently  excommunicated  and  cast  out, 
persecuted  and  devoted  to  the  death.  To  this 
end  they  were  wont  not  only  to  separate,  but  dis- 
criminate themselves  from  the  herd  and  commu- 
nity, by  some  peculiar  notes  and  badges  of  dis- 
tinction ;  such  as  their  long  robes,  broad  phylac- 
teries, and  the  large  fringes  and  borders  of  their 
garments,  whereby  they  made  themselves  known 
from  the  rest  of  men.  These  dogged  and  ill-na- 
tured principles,  together  with  their  seditious,  un- 
natural, unjust,  unmerciful,  and  uncharitable  be- 
havior, which  otherwise  would  have  made  them 
stink  above  ground  in  the  nostrils  of  men,  they 
sought  to  palliate  and  varnish  over  with  a  more 
than  ordinary  pretence  and  profession  of  religion  ; 
but  were  especially  active  and  diligent  in  what 
cost  them  little,  the  outward  instances  of  religion ; 
such  duties  especially  as  did  more  immediately 
refer  to  God ;  as  frequent  fasting  and  praying, — 
which  they  did  very  often  and  very  long,  with  de- 
mure and  mortified  looks,  in  a  whining  and  an  af- 
fected tone,  and  this  in  almost  every  corner  of  the 
streets ;  and  indeed  so  contrived  the  scheme  of 
their  religion,  that  what  they  did  might  appear 


*  Antiq.  Jud.  b.  xvii.  cap.  3,  p.  585. 
+  Antiq.  Jud.  lib.  xiii.  c.  23,  p.  463. 


58 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


above  ground,  where  they  might  be  seen  of  men 
to  the  best  advantage. 

7.  Though  this  seems  to  have  been  tlie  general 
temper  and  disposition  of  the  party,  yet  doubtless 
there  were  some  amongst  them  of  better  and 
honester  principles  than  the  rest.  In  which  num- 
ber we  have  just  reason  to  reckon  oiu:  apostle ; — 
who  yet  was  deeply  leavened  with  the  active  and 
fiery  genius  of  the  sect ;  not  able  to  brook  any 
opposite  party  in  religion,  especially  if  late  and 
novel.  Insomuch,  that  when  the  Jews  were  re- 
solved to  do  execution  upon  Stephen,  he  stood  by 
and  kept  the  clothes  of  them  that  did  it.  Whe- 
ther he  was  any  further  engaged  in  the  death  of 
this  innocent  and  good  man  we  do  not  find.  How- 
ever, this  was  enough  loudly  to  proclaim  his  ap- 
probation and  consent.  And  therefore,  elsewhere 
we  find  him  indicting  himself  for  this  fact,  and 
pleading  guilty.  "  When  the  blood  of  thy  martyr 
Stephen  was  shed,  I  also  was  standing  by,  and 
consenting  unto  his  death,  and  kept  the  raiment 
of  them  that  slew  him."*  God  chiefly  inspects 
the  heart,  and  if  the  vote  be  passed  there,  writes 
the  man  guilty,  though  he  stir  no  further.  It  is 
easy  to  murder  another  by  a  silent  wish,  or  a 
passionate  desire.  In  all  moral  actions  God  values 
the  will  for  the  deed,  and  reckons  the  man  a 
companion  in  the  sin,  who,  though  possibly  he 
may  never  actually  join  in  it,  does  yet  inwardly 
applaud  and  like  it.  The  storm  thus  begun  in- 
creased apace;  and  a  violent  persecution  began 
to  arise,  which  miserably  afflicted  and  dispersed 
the  Christians  at  Jerusalem.  In  which  our  apos- 
tle was  a  prime  agent  and  minister,  raging  about 
in  all  parts  with  a  mad  and  ungovernable  zeal, 
searching  out  the  saints,  beating  them  in  the 
synagogues,  compelling  many  to  blaspheme,  im- 
prisoning others,  and  procuring  them  to  be  put  to 
death.  Indeed,  he  was  a  kind  of  inquisitor  hare- 
ticcz  pravitalis  to  the  high-priest,  by  whom  he 
was  employed  to  hunt  and  find  out  these  upstart 
heretics,!  who  preached  against  the  law  of  Moses 
and  the  traditions  of  the  fathers.  Accordingly, 
having  made  strange  havoc  at  Jerusalem,  he  ad- 
dressed himself  to  the  Sanhedrim,  and  there  took 
out  a  warrant  and  commission  to  go  down  and 
ransack  the  synagogues  at  Damascus. J  How 
eternally  insatiable  is  fury  and  a  misguided  zeal  ! 
— How  restless  and  unwearied  in  its  designs  of 
cruelty  !  It  had  already  sufficiently  harassed  the 
poor  Christians  at  Jerusalem  ;  but  not  content  to 
have  vexed  them  there,  and  to  have  driven  them 
thence,  it  persecuted  them  unto  "  strange  cities  ;" 
following  them  even  to  Damascus  itself,  whither 
many  of  these  persecuted  Christians  had  fled  for 


♦  Acts  xxii.  20.  t  Chap.  ix.  1. 

t  Damascus  is  distant  from  Jerusalem  about  one 
hundred  and  thirty  miles,  and  was  once  the  capital 
of  Syria.  It  was  still,  when  St.  Paul  visited  it,  one 
of  the  wealthiest  and  most  splendid  cities  of  the 
east;  and,  like  the  rest  of  the  country,  was  under 
the  dominion  of  the  Romans.  Had  the  object  of 
Saul  been  otherwise  than  of  a  purely  religious  na- 
ture, he  must  have  referred  to  the  heathen  governor 
for  the  desired  remedy  ;  l>ut  the  Romans,  with  their 
accustomed  policy,  had  left  the  conquered  people  to 
arrange  their  religious  affairs  according  to  their 
own  wishes;  and  though  the  authority  of  the  Sau- 


shelter;  resolving  to  bring  up  those  whom  he 
found  there  to  Jerusalem,  in  order  to  their  punish- 
ment and  execution.  For  the  Jewish  Sanhedrim 
had  not  only  power  of  seizing  and  scourging  of- 
fenders against  their  law,  within  the  bounds  of 
their  own  country,  but,  by  the  connivance  and 
favor  of  the  Romans,  might  send  into  other  coun- 
tries, where  there  were  any  synagogues  that  ac- 
knowledged a  dependence  in  religious  matters 
upon  the  council  at  Jerusalem,  to  apprehend  them, 
as  here  they  sent  Paul  to  Damascus  to  fetch  up 
what  Christians  he  could  find,  to  be  arraigned  and 
sentenced  at  Jerusalem. 

8.  But  God,  who  had  designed  him  for  work  of 
another  nature,  and  "  separated  him  from  his  mo- 
ther's womb  to  the  preaching  of  the  gospel."* 
stopped  him  in  his  journey.  For  while  he  was, 
together  with  his  company,  travelling  on  the  road, 
not  far  from  Damascus,  on  a  sudden  a  gleam  oit 
hght,  beyond  the  splendor  and  brightness  of  the 
sun,  was  darted  from  heaven  upon  them ;  whereat, 
being  strangely  amazed  and  confounded,  they  all 
fell  to  the  ground,  a  voice  calling  to  nim,  "  Saul, 
Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  me  V  To  which  he 
replied,  "  Lord,  who  art  thou  V  Who  told  him, 
that  "  he  was  Jesus  whom  he  persecuted  ;"  that 
what  was  done  to  the  members  was  done  to  the 
head  ;  that  it  was  hard  for  him  "  to  kick  against 
the  pricks ;"  that  he  now  appeared  to  him  to  make 
choice  of  him  for  a  "  minister"  and  a  "  witness" 
of  what  he  had  now  seen  and  should  after  hear ; 
that  he  would  stand  by  him,  and  preserve  him, 
and  make  him  a  great  instrument  in  the  conver- 
sion of  the  Gentile  world.  This  said,  he  asked 
our  Lord  "  what  he  would  have  him  to  do  ;"  who 
bade  him  go  into  the  city,  where  he  should  receive 
his  answer.  St.  Paul's  companions,  who  had  been 
present  at  this  transaction,!  heard  the  voice,  but 
saw  not  him  that  spoke  to  him  ;  though  elsewhere 
the  apostle  himself  affirms,  that  they  "  saw  the 
light,  but  heard  not  the  voice"  of  him  that  spake  : 
that  is,  they  heard  a  confused  sound,  but  not  a 
distinct  and  articulate  voice  ;  or,  more  probably, 
being  ignorant  of  the  Hebrew  language,  wherein 
our  Lord  spake  to  St.  Paul,  they  heard  the  words, 
but  knew  not  the  sense  and  meaning  of  them. 

9.  St.  Paul  by  this  time  was  gotten  up,  but 
though  he  found  his  feet,  yet  he  had  lost  his  eyes, 
being  stricken  blind  with  tlie  extraordinary  bright- 
ness of  the  hght ;  and  was  accordingly  led  by  his 
companions  into  Damascus.  In  which  condition 
he  there  remained,  fasting  three  days  together- 
At  this  time  we  may  probably  suppose  it  was,  that 
he  had  that  vision  and  ecstacy,  wherein  he  was 
taken  up  into  the  "  third  heaven,"|  where  he  saw 


hedrim  could  not  properly  be  regarded  as  CTitending 
to  Damascus,  the  stretch  of  power  was  allowed, 
since  the  price  of  conciliating  so  strong  a  party  as 
the  Pharisees  would,  in  this  instance,  be  only  the 
sacrifice  of  some  unknown  and,  perhaps,  seditious 
individuals.  It  has  been  remarked  on  this  subject, 
that  the  power  of  the  Sanhedrim  and  the  high-priest, 
like  the  authority  of  the  pope  by  the  Papists,  was 
acknowledged  by  the  Jews  of  all  countries;  but  of 
course  it  could  only  be  exercised  by  the  sufferance 
of  the  civil  magistrate. — Ed. 


♦  Gal.  i.  15. 
t2Cor.  xii.  1. 


t  Acts  xxii.  9. 


LIVES    OP   THE    APOSTLES. 


59 


and  heard  things  great  and  unutterable,  and  was 
fully  instructed  in  the  mysteries  of  the  gospel ; 
and  hence  expressly  affirms,  that  he  was  not 
"  taught  the  gospel  which  he  preached  by  man, 
but  by  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ."*  There 
was,  at  this  time,  at  Damascus  one  Ananias,  a 
verj^  devout  and  religious  man,  (one  of  the  seventy 
disciples,  as  the  ancients  inform  us,  and  probably 
the  first  planter  of  the  Christian  church  in  this 
city,)  and  though  a  Christian,  yet  of  great  reputa- 
tion amongst  all  the  Jews.  To  him  our  Lord  ap- 
peared, commanding  him  to  go  into  such  a  street, 
and  to  such  a  house,  and  there  "  inquire  for  one 
Saul  of  Tarsus,"  who  was  now  at  prayer,  and  had 
seen  him  in  a  vision  coming  to  him,  to  lay  his 
hands  upon  him,  that  he  might  receive  his  sight. 
Ananias  startled  at  the  name  of  the  man,  having 
heard  of  his  bloody  temper  and  practices,  and  upon 
what  errand  he  was  now  come  down  to  the  city. 
But  our  Lord,  to  take  off  his  fears,  told  him,  that 
he  mistook  the  man,  that  he  had  now  taken  him 
to  be  a  chosen  vessel,  to  preach  the  gospel  both 
to  Jews  and  Gentiles,  and  before  the  greatest  po- 
tentates upon  earth,  acquainting  him  with  what 
great  things  he  should  both  do  and  suffer  for  his 
sake  ;  what  chains  and  imprisonments,  what  racks 
and  scourges,  what  hunger  and  thirst,  what  ship- 
wrecks and  death  he  should  undergo.  Upon  this 
Ananias  went,  laid  his  hands  upon  him,  told  him 
that  our  Lord  had  sent  him  to  him  that  he  might 
receive  his  eight,  and  be  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
which  was  no  sooner  done,  but  thick  films,  like 
scales,  fell  from  his  eyes,  and  his  sight  returned. 
And  the  next  thing  he  did  was  to  be  baptized, 
and  solemnly  initiated  into  the  Christian  faith. 
After  which  he  joined  himself  to  the  disciples 
of  that  place,  to  the  equal  joy  and  wonder  of  the 
church,  that  the  wolf  should  so  soon  lay  down  its 
fierceness,  and  put  on  the  meek  nature  of  a  lamb 
that  he  who  had  lately  been  so  violent  a  persecu- 
tor, should  now  become  not  a  professor  only,  but  a 
preacher  of  that  faith  which  before  he  had  routed 
and  destroyed. 


SECTION  II. 

Of  St.  Paul,  from  his  Conversion  till  ilie  Council 
at  Jerusalem. 

Saint  Paul  staid  not  long  at  Damascus  after  his 
conversion,!  but  having  received  an  immediate 
intimation  from  heaven,  probably  in  tlie  ecstacy 
Avherein  he  was  caught  up  thither,  he  waited  for 
no  other  counsel  or  direction  in  the  case,  lest  he 
should  seem  to  derive  his  mission  and  authority 
from  men,  and  "  being  not  disobedient  to  the  hea- 
venly vision,"  he  presently  retired  out  of  the  city ; 
and  the  sooner,  probably,  to  decline  the  odium  of 
the  Jews,  and  the  effects  of  that  rage  and  maUce 


*Gal.  i.  10,  11. 

t  Our  author  dates  the  conversion  of  the  apostle 
some  years  earlier  than  other  writers.  Lardner, 
after  a  very  careful  review  of  different  circum- 
stances and  testimonies,  concludes  that  it  most  pro- 
bably took  place  about  the  year  36  or  37.— Works, 
vol.  vi.  p.  241.— Ed. 


which  he  was  sure  would  pursue  and  follow  him. 
He  withdrew  into  the  parts  of  Arabia,  (those  parts 
of  it  that  lay  next  to  the  xupa  i^aiiaaKrivn*  the  "  re- 
gion of  Damascus ;"  nay,  Damascus  itself  was 
sometim-es  accounted  part  of  Arabia,  as  we  shall 
note  by  and  by  from  TertuUian,)  where  he  spent 
the  first-fruits  of  his  ministry,  preaching  up  and 
down  for  three  years  together.  After  which  lie 
returned  back  to  Damascus,!  preached  openly  in 
the  synagogues,  and  convinced  the  Jews  of  Christ's 
messiahship,  and  the  truth  of  his  religion.  Angry 
and  enraged  hereat,  they  resolved  his  ruin  ;  which 
they  knew  no  better  way  to  effect,  than  by  exaspe- 
rating and  incensing  the  civil  powers  against  him. 
Damascus  was  a  place  not  more  venerable  for  its 
antiquity,  (if  not  built  by,  at  least  it  gave  title  to 
Abraham's  steward,  hence  called  Eliezer  of  Da- 
mascus,) than  it  was  considerable  for  its  strength, 
stateliness,  and  situation  :  it  was  the  noblest  city 
of  all  Syria,  (as  Justin  of  old,  and  the  Arabian 
geographer,  has  since  informed  us  ;  and  the  pro- 
phet Isaiahf  before  both,  calls  it  "the  head  of 
Syria,")  seated  in  a  most  healthful  air,  in  a  most 
fruitful  soU,  watered  with  most  pleasant  fountains 
and  rivers,  rich  in  merchandize,  adorned  with  state- 
ly buildings,  goodly  and  magnificent  temples,  and 
fortified  with  strong  guards  and  garrisons  ;  in  all 
which  respects,  Julian  calls  it  the  holy  and  great 
Damascus,  "  the  eye  of  the  whole  east."  Situate 
it  was  between  Libanus  and  Mount  Hermon ;  and 
though  probably  belonging  to  Syria,  yet  Arabim 
retro  depulabatur  (as  Tertullian  tells  us)  was  an- 
ciently reckoned  to  Arabia.  Accordingly  at  this 
time  it  was  under  the  government  of  Aretas,  (fa- 
ther-in-law to  Herod  Antipas,  the  tetrarch,  whose 
daughter  the  said  Herod  had  married,  but  after- 
wards turned  off;  which  became  the  occasion  of 
a  war  between  those  two  princes,)  king  of  Arabia 
Petraea,  a  prince  tributary  to  the  Roman  empire. 
By  him  there  was  an  tQvapxm,  or  governor,  who 
had  jurisdiction  over  the  whole  Syria  Damascena, 
placed  over  it,  who  kept  constant  residence  in  the 
city,  as  a  place  of  very  great  importance.  To 
him  the  Jews  made  their  address,  with  crafty  and 
cimning  insmuations,  persuading  him  to  appre- 
hend St.  Paul,  possibly  under  the  notion  of  a  spy, 
there  being  war  at  this  time  between  the  Romans 
and  that  king.  Hereupon  the  gates  were  shut, 
and  extraordinary  guards  set,  and  all  engines  that 
could  be  laid  to  take  him.  But  the  disciples,  to 
prevent  their  cruel  designs,  at  night  put  him  into 
a  basket,  and  let  him  down  over  the  city  wall. — 
And  the  place,  we  are  told,  is  still  showed  to  tra- 
vellers, not  far  from  the  gate,  thence  called  St. 
Paul's  gate  at  this  day. 

2.  Having  thus  made  his  escape,  he  set  for- 
wards  for  J°erusalem,  where  when  he  arrived,  he 
addressed  himself  to  the  church. ||  But  they, 
knowing  the  former  temper  and  principles  of  the 
man,  universally  shunned  his  company  ;  till  Bar- 
nabas brought  him  to  Peter,  who  was  not  yet  cast 
into  prison,  and  to  James,  our  Lord's  brother,  bi- 
shop of  Jerusalem,  acquainting  them  with  the 
manner  of  his  conversion;  and  by  them  he  was 
familiarly  entertained.  Here  he  staid  fifteen  days, 
preaching    Christ,  and  confuting  the   Hellenist 

♦  Gal.  i.  17,  18.    1  Acts  ix.  23 ;  2  Cor.  xi.  32  33 . 
X  Isa.  vii.  7.  li  Acts  ix.  26;  Gal.  i.  18,  19. 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


Jews  with  a  mighty  courage  and  resolution.  But 
snares  were  here  again  laid  to  entrap  him ;  as 
malice  can  as  well  cease  to  be,  as  to  be  restless 
and  active.  Whereupon  he  was  warned  by  God 
in  a  vision,  that  his  testimony  would  not  find  ac- 
ceptance in  that  place  ;  that  therefore  he  should 
leave  it,  and  betake  himself  to  the  Gentiles.  Ac- 
cordingly, being  conducted  by  the  brethren  to 
Csesarea,*  he  set  sail  for  Tarsus,  his  native  city ; 
from  whence,  not  long  after,  he  was  fetched  by 
Barnabas  to  Antioch,f  to  assist  him  in  propaga- 
ting Christianity  in  that  place  :  in  which  employ- 
ment they  continued  there  a  whole  year.  And 
now  it  was  that  the  disciples  of  the  religion  were 
at  this  place  first  called  Christians  ;  according  to 
the  manner  of  all  other  institutions,  who  were 
wont  to  take  their  denominations  from  the  first 
authors  and  founders  of  them.  Before  this  they 
were  usually  styled  Nazarenes,  as  being  the  dis- 
ciples and  followers  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  a  name 
by  which  the  Jews  in  scorn  call  them  to  this  day, 
with  the  same  intent  that  the  Gentiles  of  old 
used  to  call  them  Galileaas.  The  name  of  Naza- 
renes was  henceforward  fixed  upon  those  Jewish 
converts,  who  mixed  the  law  and  the  gospel,  and 
compounded  a  religion  out  of  Judaism  and  Chris- 
tianity. The  fixing  this  honorable  name  upon 
the  disciples  of  the  crucified  Jesus  was  done  at 
Antioch,  (as  an  ancient  historian  informs  us|) 
about  the  beginning  of  Claudius's  reign,  ten  years 
after  Christ's  ascension  ;  nay,  he  further  adds,  that 
Euodius,  lately  ordained  bishop  of  that  place,  was 
the  person  that  imposed  this  name  upon  them, 
styling  tliem  Christians,  who  before  were  called 
Nazarenes  and  Galileans.  I  may  not  omit,  what 
a  learned  man  has  observed,^  that  the  word 
XpifiaTitrai,  used  by  St.  Luke,  (they  were  called,) 
imphes  the  tiling  to  have  been  done  by  some  pub- 
lic and  solemn  act  and  declaration  of  the  whole 
church ;  such  being  the  use  of  the  word  in  the 
imperial  edicts  and  proclamations  of  those  times, 
the  emperors  being  said  ;)[;p»;/<aTif£(v,  "  to  style 
themselves,"  when  they  publicly  proclaimed  by 
what  titles  they  would  be  called.  When  any  pro- 
vince submitted  itself  to  the  Roman  empire,  the 
emperor  was  wont  by  public  edict,  xpif"'^'^^^"  ^"vtov 
to  entitle  himself  to  the  government  and  jurisdic- 
tion of  it,  and  the  people  to  several  great  privi- 
leges and  immunities.  In  a  grateful  sense  whereof, 
the  people  usually  made  this  time  the  solemn  date 
of  their  common  epocha,  or  computation.  Thus 
(as  the  forementioned  historian  informs  us||)  it 
was  in  the  particular  case  of  Antioch  ;  and  thence 
their  public  jera  was  called  x9''H'^'^"'h'>i  '■"»'  'Avno;;^- 
tiuv,  "  the  ascription  of  the  people  at  Antioch." 
Such  being  the  general  acceptation  of  the  word, 
St.  Luke,  (who  was  himself  a  native  of  this  city) 
makes  use  of  it  to  express  that  solemn  declaration 
whereby  the  disciples  of  the  religion  entitled 
themselves  to  the  name  of  Christians. 

3.  It  happened,  about  this  time,  that  a  terrible 
famine,  foretold  by  Agabus,1F  afflicted  several  parts 


*  Acts  IX.  30.  t  Chap.  xi.  20. 

t  Joan.  Antiochen.  in  Chronol.  MS.  a  Selden,  cit, 
de  Synedr.  lib.  i.  c.  8,  p.  '22<1. 
5  Greg.  not.  et  obs.  cap.  36. 
II  J.  Antioch.  Chron.  lib.  ix. 
V  Acts  xi.  27. 


of  the  Roman  empire,  but  especially  Judaja  ;  the 
consideration  whereof  made  the  Christians  at  An- 
tioch compassionate  the  case  of  their  suffering 
brethren,  and  they  accordingly  raised  consider- 
able contributions  for  their  relief  and  succor,  which 
they  sent  to  Jerusalem  by  Barnabas  and  Paul ; 
who  having  despatched  their  errand  in  that  city, 
went  back  to  Antioch  ;  where,  while  they  were 
joining  in  the  public  exercises  of  their  religion,  it 
was  revealed  to  them  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  that 
they  should  set  apart  Paul  and  Barnabas  to  preach 
the  gospel  in  other  places  ;*  which  was  done  ac- 
cordingly, and  they,  by  prayer,  fasting,  and  impo- 
sition of  hands,  were  immediately  deputed  for  that 
service.  Hence  they  departed  to  Seleucia,  and 
thence  sailed  to  Cyprus,  where  at  Salamis,  a  great 
city  in  that  island,  they  preached  in  the  syna- 
gogues of  the  Jews.  Hence  they  removed  to 
Paphos,  the  residence  of  Sergius  Paulus,  the  pro- 
consul of  the  island,  a  man  of  great  wisdom  and 
prudence,  but  miserably  seduced  by  the  wicked 
artifices  of  Bar-Jesus,  a  Jewish  impostor,  who 
calling  himself  Elymas,  or  the  magician,  vehe- 
mently opposed  the  apostles,  and  kept  the  procon- 
sid  from  embracing  of  the  faith.  Nay,  one  who 
pretends  to  be  ancient  enough  to  know  it,  seems 
to  intimate,  that  he  not  only  spake,  but  wrote 
against  St.  Paul's  doctrine,  and  the  faith  of  Christ. 
However,  the  proconsul  calls  for  the  apostles,  and 
St.  Paul  first  takes  Elymas  to  task  ;  and  having 
severely  checked  him  for  his  mahcious  opposing 
of  the  truth,  told  him,  that  the  divine  vengeance 
was  now  ready  to  seize  upon  him.  Upon  which 
he  was  immediately  struck  blind.  The  ven- 
geance of  God  observing  herein  a  kind  of  just  pro- 
portion, that  he  should  be  punished  with  the  loss 
of  his  bodily  eyes,  who  had  so  wilfully  and  mali- 
ciously shut  the  eyes  of  his  mind  against  the 
light  of  the  gospel,  and  had  endeavored  to  keep 
not  only  himself,  but  others  under  so  much  blind- 
ness and  darkness.  This  miracle  turned  the  scale 
with  the  proconsul,  and  quickly  brought  him  over 
a  convert  to  the  faith. 

4.  After  this  success  in  Cyprus,  he  went  to 
Perga,  in  Pamphylia,t  where  taking  Titus  along 
with  him  in  the  room  of  Mark,  who  was  returned 
to  Jerusalem,  they  went  to  Antioch,  the  metro- 
polis of  Pisidia  :|  where  entering  into  the  Jewish 
synagogue  on  the  Sabbath-day,  after  some  sec- 
tions of  the  law  were  read,  they  were  invited  by 
the  rulers  of  the  synagogue  to  discourse  a  little  to 
the  people ;  which  St.  Paul  did  in  a  large  and 
eloquent  sermon,  wherein  he  put  them  in  mind  of 
the  many  great  and  particular  blessings  which 
God  had  heaped  upon  the  Jews,  from  the  first  ori- 
ginals  of  that  nation  ;  that  he  had  crowned  them 
all  with  the  sending  of  his  Son  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah and  the  Saviour ;  that  though  the  Jews  had 
ignorantly  crucified  this  just,  innocent  person,  yet 
that  God,  according  to  his  own  predictions,  had 
raised  him  up  from  the  dead  ;  that  through  him 
they  preached  forgiveness  of  sins,  and  that  by  him 


t  Acts  xiii.  2.  t  Acts  xiii.  13,  14. 

t  The  Antioch  here  mentioned  is  distinguished 
as  the  metropolis  of  Pisidia,  to  prevent  its  being 
confounded  with  the  city  of  the  same  name  in  Sy- 
ria, where  the  believers  were  first  called  Christians. 
Pisidia  was  a  province  of  Asia  Minor.— Ed. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLE 


61 


alone  it  was  that  men,  if  ever,  must  be  justified 
and  acquitted  from  that  guilt  and  condemnation 
which  all  the  pompous  ceremonies  and  mmistries 
of  the  Mosaic  law  could  never  do  away ;  that 
therefore  they  should  do  weU  to  take  heed,  lest  by 
their  opposing  this  way  of  salvation,  they  should 
bring  upon  themselves  that  prophetical  curse  which 
God  had  threatened  to  the  Jews  of  old,  for  their 
great  contumacy  and  neglect.  This  sermon 
wanted  not  its  due  effects.  The  proselyte  Jews 
desired  the  apostles  to  discourse  again  to  them  of 
this  matter  tlie  next  Sabbath-day ;  the  apostles  also 
persuading  them  to  continue  firm  in  the  belief  of 
these  things.  The  day  was  no  sooner  come,  but 
the  whole  city,  almost,  flocked  to  be  their  audi- 
tors ;  which  when  the  Jews  saw,  actuated  by  a 
spirit  of  envy,  they  began  to  blaspheme,  and  to 
contradict  the  apostles ;  who,  nothing  daunted, 
told  tljem,  that  our  Lord  had  charged  them  first 
to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  Jews,  which  since 
they  so  obstinately  rejected,  they  were  now  to 
address  themselves  to  the  Gentiles  ;  who  hearing 
this,  exceedingly  rejoiced  at  the  good  news,  and 
magnified  the  word  of  God ;  and  as  many  of 
them  as  were  thus  prepared  and  disposed  towards 
eternal  life,  heartily  closed  with  it  and  embraced 
it.  The  apostles  preaching  not  there  only,  but 
through  the  whole  country  round  about.  The 
Jews,  more  exasperated  than  before,  resolved  to 
be  rid  of  their  company,  and  to  that  end  persuad- 
ed some  of  the  more  devout  and  honorable  wo- 
men to  deal  with  their  husbands,  persons  of  prime 
rank  and  quahty  in  the  city,  by  whose  means  they 
were  driven  out  of  those  parts.  Whereat  St. 
Paul  and  Barnabas  shaking  off  the  dust  of  their 
feet,  as  a  testimony  against  their  ingratitude  and 
infidelity,  departed  from  them. 

5.  The  next  place  they  went  to  was  Iconium  ; 
where  at  first  they  found  kind  entertainment  and 
good  success ;  God  setting  a  seal  to  their  doctrine 
by  the  testimony  of  his  miracles.*  But  here  the 
Jewish  malice  began  again  to  ferment,  exciting 
the  people  to  sedition,  and  mutiny  against  them. 
Insomuch,  that  hearing  of  a  design  to  stone  them, 
they  seasonably  withdrew  to  Lystra  ;  where  they 
first  made  their  way  by  a  miraculous  cure.  For 
St.  Paul  seeing  an  impotent  cripple,  that  had  been 
lame  from  his  mother's  womb,  cured  him  with  the 
speaking  of  a  word.  The  people  who  beheld  the 
miracle,  had  so  much  natural  logic  as  to  infer  that 
there  was  a  divinity  in  the  thing  ;  though  mis- 
taking the  author,  they  applied  it  to  the  instru- 
ments, crying  out,  that  the  gods  in  human  shape 
were  come  down  from  heaven.  Paul,  as  being 
chief  speaker,  they  termed  Mercury,  the  god  of 
speech  and  eloquence  ;  Barnabas,  by  reason  of  his 
age  and  gravity,  they  called  Jupiter,  the  father  of 
their  gods;  accordingly  the  Syriac  interpreter 
here  renders  Jupiter  "  the  Lord,  or  sovereign  of 
the  gods."  The  fame  of  this  being  spread  over 
the  city,  the  priest  of  Jupiter  brought  oxen  dressed 
up  with  garlands,  after  the  Gentile  rites,  to  the 
house  were  the  apostles  were,  to  do  sacrifice  to 
them.  Which  they  no  sooner  understood,  but  in 
detestation  of  those  undue  honors  offered  them ; 
they  rent  their  clothes,  and  told  them  that  they 
were  men  of  the  same  make  and  temper,  of  the 


♦  Acts  xiv.  1. 


same  passions  and  infirmities  with  themselves; 
that  the  design  of  their  preaching  was  to  convert 
them  from  these  vain  idolatries  and  superstitions 
to  the  worship  of  the  true  God,  the  great  Parent 
of  the  world  ;  who  though  heretofore  he  had  left 
men  to  themselves,  to  go  on  m  their  own  ways  of 
idolatrous  worship,  yet  had  he  given  sufficient  evi- 
dence of  himself  in  the  constant  returns  of  a  gra- 
cious and  benign  providence,  in  crowning  the  year 
with  fi-uitful  seasons,  and  other  acts  of  common 
kindness  and  bounty  to  mankind. 

6.  A  short  discourse ;  but  very  rational  and  con- 
victive,  which  it  may  not  be  amiss  a  little  more 
particularly  to  consider,  and  the  method  which  the 
apostle  uses  to  convince  these  blind  idolaters.  He 
proves  divine  honors  to  be  due  to  God  alone,  as 
the  sovereign  Being  of  the  world  ;  and  that  there 
is  such  a  supreme  infinite  Being  he  argues  from 
his  works  both  of  creation  and  Providence.  Crea- 
tion :  "  He  is  the  living  God  that  made  heaven 
and  earth,  the  sea,  and  all  things  that  are  therein." 
Providence  :  "  He  left  not  himself  witiiout  wit- 
ness, in  that  he  did  good,  and  gave  rain  from  hea- 
ven and  fruitful  seasons,  filling  our  hearts  with 
food  and  gladness."  Than  which  no  argument 
can  be  more  apt  and  proper  to  work  upon  the 
minds  of  men.  "  That  wJiich  may  be  known  of 
God  is  manifest  to  the  Gentiles,  for  God  hath 
showed  it  unto  them.  For  the  invisible  things  of 
him,  from  the  creation  of  the  world,  even  his  eter- 
nal power  and  godhead,  are  clearly  seen  and  un- 
derstood by  the  tilings  that  are  made."  It  being 
impossible  impartially  to  survey  the  several  parts 
of  the  creation,  and  not  see  in  every  place  evident 
footsteps  of  an  infinite  wisdom,  power,  and  good- 
ness. Who  can  look  up  unto  the  heavens,  and 
not  there  discern  an  Almighty  wisdom  beautifully 
garnishing  those  upper  regions,  distinguishing  the 
circuits,  and  perpetuating  the  motions  of  the  hea- 
venly lights  1  Placing  the  sun  in  the  middle  of 
the  heavens,  that  he  might  equally  dispense  and 
communicate  his  light  and  heat  to  all  parts  of  the 
world,  and  not  burn  the  earth  with  the  too  near 
approach  of  his  scorching  beams  :  by  which  means 
the  creatures  are  refreshed  and  cheered,  the  earth 
impregnated  with  fruits  and  flowers  by  the  benign 
influence  of  a  vital  heat ;  and  the  vicissitudes  and 
seasons  of  the  year  regularly  distinguished  by 
their  constant  and  orderly  revolutions.  Whence 
are  the  great  orbs  of  heaven  kept  in  continual  mo- 
tion, always  going  in  the  same  tract,  but  because 
there  is  a  superior  power  that  keeps  these  great 
wheels  a  going  ?  Who  is  it  "  that  poises  the  ba- 
lancings of  the  clouds  ;  that  divides  a  water-course 
for  the  overflowing  of  waters,  and  a  way  for  the 
lightning  of  the  thunder?"  Who  can  "bind  the 
sweet  influences  of  the  Pleiades,  or  loose  the  bands 
of  Orion  1"  Or  who  can  "bring  forth  Mazaroth 
in  his  season,  or  guide  Arcturus  with  his  sonsl" 
Do  these  come  by  chance  ?  Or  by  the  secret 
appointment  of  infinite  wisdom  ?  Who  can  con- 
sider the  admirable  thinness  and  purity  of  the  air; 
its  immediate  subserviency  to  the  great  ends  of 
the  creation,  its  being  the  treasury  of  vital  breath 
to  all  Uving  creatures,  without  which  the  next  mo- 
ment must  put  a  period  to  our  days,  and  not  re- 
flect upon  that  Divine  wisdom  that  contrived  it .' 
If  we  come  down  upon  the  earth,  there  we  dis- 
cover a  divine  Providence,  supporting  it  with  the 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


pillars  of  an  invisible  power.  "  stretching  the  north 
over  the  empty  space,  and  hanging  the  earth  upon 
nothing  ;"  filling  it  with  great  variety  of  admirable 
and  useful  creatures,  and  maintaining  them  all 
according  to  their  kinds  at  his  own  cost  and 
charges.  It  is  he  that  clothes  the  grass  with  a 
delightful  verdure  ;  that  "  crowns  the  year  with 
his  loving-kindness,"  and  "  makes  the  valleys 
stand  thick  with  corn ;"  that  "  causes  the  grass 
to  grow  for  the  cattle,  and  herd  for  the  service  of 
man ;  that  he  may  bring  forth  food  out  of  the 
earth,  and  wine  that  maketh  glad  the  heart  of 
man,  and  oil  to  make  his  face  to  shine,  and  bread 
which  strengtheneth  man's  heart ;"  that  beautifies 
the  lilies  that  neither  toil  nor  spin,  and  that  with 
a  glory  that  outshines  Solomon  in  all  his  pomp 
and  grandeur.  From  land  let  us  ship  our  obser- 
vations to  sea,  and  there  we  may  descry  the  wise 
effects  of  infinite  understanding :  a  wide  ocean 
fitly  disposed  for  the  mutual  commerce  and  corres- 
pondence of  one  part  of  mankind  with  another ; 
filled  with  great  and  admirable  fishes,  and  enrich- 
ed with  the  treasures  of  the  deep.  What  but  an 
Almighty  arm  can  shut  in  the  sea  with  doors,  bind 
it  by  a  perpetual  decree  that  it  cannot  pass,  and 
tie  up  its  wild  raging  waves  with  no  stronger  cord- 
age than  ropes  of  sand  !  Who  but  he  commands 
the  storm,  and  stills  the  tempest  ?  and  brings  the 
mariner,  when  at  his  wit's  end  in  the  midst  of  the 
greatest  dangers,  to  his  desired  haven  ■?  "  They 
that  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  and  do  business 
in  great  waters  ;  these  see  the  works  of  the  Lord, 
and  his  wonders  in  the  deep."  So  impossible  is 
it  for  a  man  to  stand  in  any  part  of  the  creation, 
wherein  he  may  not  discern  evidences  enough  of 
an  infinitely  wise,  gracious,  and  omnipotent  Being. 
Thus  much  I  thought  good  to  add,  to  illustrate  the 
apostle's  argument;  whence  he  strongly  infers, 
that  it  is  very  reasonable  that  we  should  worship 
and  adore  this  great  Creator  and  benefactor,  and 
not  transfer  the  honors  due  to  him  alone  upon  men 
of  frail  and  sinful  passions,  and  much  less  upon 
dumb  idols,  unable  either  to  make  or  to  help  them- 
selves. An  argument,  which  though  very  plain 
and  plausible,  and  adapted  to  the  meanest  under- 
standings ;  yet  was  all  little  enough  to  restrain  the 
people  from  offering  sacrifice  to  them.  But  how 
soon  was  the  wind  turned  into  another  comer  ? 
The  old  spirit  of  the  Jews  did  still  haunt  and  pur- 
sue them  ;  who  coming  from  Antioch  and  Iconium, 
exasperated  and  stirred  up  the  multitude.  And 
they  who  just  before  accounted  them  as  gods,  used 
them  now  worse,  not  only  than  ordinary  men,  but 
slaves.  For  in  a  mighty  rage  they  fall  upon  St. 
Paul,  stone  him,  (as  they  thought,  dead,)  and  then 
drag  him  out  of  the  city  :  whither  the  Christians 
of  that  place  coming,  probably  to  inter  him ;  he 
suddenly  revived,  and  rose  up  amongst  them,  and 
the  next  day  went  thence  to  Dcrbe. 

7.  Here  they  preached  the  gospel,  and  then  re- 
turned to  Lystra,  Iconium,  and  Antioch  of  Pisidia, 
confirming  the  Christians  of  those  places  in  the 
belief  and  profession  of  Christianity,  earnestly  per- 
suadmg  them  to  persevere,  and  not  be  discouraged 
with  those  troubles  and  persecutions  which  they 
must  expect  would  attend  the  profession  of  the 
gospel.  And  that  all  this  might  succeed  the 
better,  with  fasting  and  prayer  they  ordained  go- 
vernors and  pastors  in  every  church  ;  and  having 


recommended  them  to  the  grace  of  God,  depart- 
ed from  them.  From  hence  they  passed  through 
Pisidia,  and  thence  came  to  Pamphylia  ;  and  hav- 
ing preached  to  the  people  at  Perga,  they  went 
down  to  Attalia.  And  thus,  having  at  this  time 
finished  the  whole  circuit  of  their  ministry,  they 
returned  back  to  Antioch,  in  Syria,  the  place 
whence  they  had  first  set  out.  Here  they  ac- 
quainted the  church  with  the  various  transactions 
and  successes  of  their  travels,  and  how  great  a 
door  had  thereby  been  opened  to  the  conversion 
of  the  Gentile  world. 

8.  While  St.  Paul  staid  at  Antioch,  there  arose 
that  famous  controversy  about  the  observation  of 
the  Mosaic  rites,*  set  on  foot  and  brought  in  by 
some  Jewish  converts  that  came  down  thither, 
whereby  great  disturbances  and  distractions  were 
made  in  the  minds  of  the  people.  For  the  com- 
posing wliercof,  the  church  of  Antioch  resolved  to 
send  Paul  and  Barnabas  to  consult  with  the  apos- 
tles and  church  at  Jerusalem.  In  their  way 
thither,  they  declared  to  the  brethren,  as  they  went 
along,  what  success  they  had  had  in  the  conversion 
of  the  Gentiles.  Being  come  to  Jerusalem,  they 
first  addressed  themselves  to  Peter,  James,  and 
John,  the  pillars  and  principal  persons  in  that 
place  ;  by  whom  they  were  kindly  entertained, 
and  admitted  to  the  "  right  hand  of  fellowship." 
And  perceiving  by  the  account  which  St.  Paul 
gave  them,  that  the  "gospel  of  the  uncircumcision 
was  committed"  to  him,  as  that  of  the  "  circum- 
cision" was  to  Peter  ;  they  ratified  it  by  compact 
and  agreement,  that  Peter  should  preach  to  the 
Jews,  and  Paul  to  the  Gentiles,  Hereupon  a 
council  was  summoned,  wherein  Peter  having  de- 
clared his  sense  of  things,  Paul  and  Barnabas  ac- 
quainted them  what  great  things  God  by  their 
ministry  had  done  among  the  Gentiles.  A.  plain 
evidence,  that,  though  uncircumcised,  they  were 
accepted  by  God  as  well  as  the  Jews  with  all  their 
legal  rites  and  privileges.  The  issue  of  the  de- 
bate was,  that  the  Gentiles  were  not  under  the 
obligation  of  the  law  of  Moses  ;  and  that  therefore 
some  persons  of  their  own  should  be  joined  with 
Paul  and  Barnabas,  to  carry  the  canons  and  de- 
crees of  the  council  down  to  Antioch,  for  their 
fuller  satisfaction  in  this  matter.  But  of  this 
affair  we  shall  give  the  reader  a  more  distinct  and 
particular  account  in  another  place. 


SECTION  III. 

Of  St.  Paul,  from  the  time  of  the  Synod  at  Jerri- 
salem,  till  his  departure  from  Athens. 

Saint  Paul  and  his  companions  having  received 
the  decretal  epistle,  returned  to  Antioch  ;  where 
they  had  not  been  long  before  Peter  came  thither 
to  them ;  and  according  to  the  decree  of  the 
council,  freely  and  inoffensively  conversed  with 
the  Gentiles  ;  till  some  of  the  Jews  coming  down 
thither  from  Jerusalem,  he  withdrew  his  converse, 
as  if  it  were  a  thing  unwarrantable  and  unlawful. 
By  which  means  the  minds  of  many  were  dissa- 
tisfied, and  their  consciences  very  much  ensnared. 


Acts  XV. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


6;] 


Whereat  St.  Paul  being  exceedingly  troubled, 
publicly  rebuked  him  for  it,  and  that,  as  the  case 
required,  with  great  sharpness  and  severity.  It 
was  not  long  alter,  that  St.  Paul  and  Barnabas 
resolved  upon  visiting  the  churches,  which  they 
had  lately"  planted  among  the  Gentiles.*  To 
whtcli  end  Barnabas  determined  to  take  his  cousin 
Mark  along  with  them.  This  Paul  would  by  no 
means  agree  to,  he  having  deserted  them  in  their 
former  journey.  A  little  spark,  which  yet  kindled 
a  great  feud  and  dissension  between  these  two 
good  men,  and  arose  to  that  height,  that  in  some 
discontent  they  parted  from  each  other.  So  na- 
tural is  it  for  the  best  of  men  sometimes  to  indulge 
an  unwarrantable  passion,  and  so  far  to  espouse 
the  interest  of  a  private  and  particular  humor,  or 
rather  to  hazard  the  great  law  of  charity,  and  vio- 
late the  bands  of  friendship,  than  to  recede  from 
it.f  The  effect  was,  Barnabas,  taking  his  nephew, 
went  for  Cyprus,  his  native  country.  St.  Paul 
made  choice  of  Silas  ;  and  tlie  success  of  his 
undertaking  being  first  recommended  to  the  di- 
vine care  and  goodness,  they  set  forward  on  their 
journey. 

2.  Tlieir  first  passage  was  into  Syria  and  Cili- 
cia,  confirming  the  churches  as  they  went  along. 
And  to  that  end  they  left  with  them  copies  of  the 
pynodical  decrees,  lately  ordained  in  the  council  at 
Jerusalem.  Hence  we  may  suppose  it  was  that 
he  set  sail  for  Crete,  where  he  preached  and  pro- 
pagated Christianity,  and  constituted  Titus  to  be 
the  first  bishop  and  pastor  of  that  island,  whom  he 
left  there,  to  settle  and  dispose  those  affairs,wliich 
the  shortness  of  his  own  stay  in  those  parts  would 
not  sutler  him  to  do.  Hence  he  returned  back 
unto  Cilicia,  and  came  to  Lystra,  where  he  found 
Timothy,  wliose  father  was  a  Greek,  his  mother  a 
Jewish  convert,  by  whom  he  had  been  brought  up 
under  all  the  advantages  of  a  pious  and  religious 
education,  and  especially  an  incomparable  skill 
and  dexterity  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  St.  Paul 
designed  him  for  the  companion  of  his  travels, 
and  a  special  instrument  in  the  ministry  of  the 
gospel;  and  knowing  that  his  being  uncircumcised 
would  be  a  mighty  prejudice  in  the  opinion  and 
estimation  of  the  Jews,  caused  him  to  be  circum- 
cised ;  being  willing,  in  all  lawful  and  indifferent 
matters,  (such  was  circumcision  now  become,)  to 
accommodate  himself  to  men's  humors  and  ap- 
prehensions for  the  saving  of  their  souls. 


♦  Ads  XV.  3. 

+  There  does  not  appear  to  be  sufficient  ground 
for  the  notion  which  our  author  has  here  espoused, 
Uiat  the  difference  between  Paul  and  Barnabas  par- 
took of  the  nature  of  "  an  unwarrantable  passion." 
The  arguments  for  and  against  taking  Mark  as  a 
companion  -n  their  journey,  might  be  urged  with 
great  zeal  an  I  earnestness,  and  yet  leave  their  minds 
quite  free  from  the  leaven  of  malice.  Surely  it 
may  be  believed  that  the  spirit  and  grace  of  God 
had  sufficient  power  over  the  hearts  of  his  chosen 
ministers,  to  prevent  their  falling  into  so  fearful  a 
sin  as  that  of  wrath.  But  if  the  Greek  phrase, 
syevcTo  ow  napo^vaixoi,  "  there  was,  therefore,  a  pa- 
roxysm," must  be  taken  as  implying  anger  against 
each  other,  the  fault,  it  has  been  observed,  is  to  be 
chiefly  ascribed  to  Barnabas,  who  manifested  too 
great  a  partiality  for  his  relative;  Paul  only  con 
tending  for  the  interests  of  their  mission. — Ed. 
90  (21) 


3.  From  hence  with  his  company  he 
through  Phrygia,  and  the  country  of  Ga'latia, 
where  he  was  entertained  by  them  with  as  mighty 
a  kindness  and  veneration  as  if  he  had  been  an 
angel  immediately  sent  from  heaven.  And  being 
by  revelation  forbidden  to  go  into  Asia,  by  a  se- 
cond vision  he  was  commanded  to  direct  iiis  jour- 
ney to  Macedonia.  And  here  it  was  that  St. 
Luke  joined  himself  to  his  company,  and  became 
ever  after  his  inseparable  companion.  Sailing 
from  Troas  they  arrived  at  the  island  Samothracia, 
and  thence  to  Neapolis  ;  from  whence  they  went 
to  Pliilippi,  the  chief  city  of  that  part  of  Macedo- 
nia, and  a  Roman  colony  ;  where  he  stayed  some 
considerable  time  to  plant  the  Christian  faith,  and 
where  his  ministry  had  more  particular  success  on 
Lydia,  a  purple-seller,  born  at  Thyatira,  baptized 
together  with  her  whole  family ;  and  with  her  the 
apostle  sojourned  during  his  residence  in  that 
place.  A  little  without  this  city  there  was  a 
proseucha,  (an  oratory,  or  house  of  prayer,)where- 
to  the  apostle  and  his  company  used  frequently  to 
retire,  for  the  exercise  of  their  religion,  and  for 
preaching  the  gospel  to  those  that  resorted  thither. 
The  Jews  had  three  sorts  of  places  for  their  pub- 
lic worship  ;  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  which  was 
like  the  cathedral,  or  mother-church,  where  all 
sacrifices  and  oblations  were  offered,  and  where 
all  males  were  bound,  three  times  a  year,  person- 
ally to  pay  their  devotions ;  their  synagogue, 
(many  whereof  they  had  almost  in  every  place, 
not  unlike  our  parochial  churches,)  where  the 
Scriptures  were  read  and  expounded,  and  the 
people  taught  their  duty.  "Moses  of  old  time 
liath  in  every  city  them  that  preach  him,  being 
read  in  the  synagogues  every  Sabbath-day. "f — 
And  then  they  had  their  proseuchcc ,  {ra  Kara  iruXeif 
irpoaevKTnpia,  as  Philo  sometimes  cnlls  tiiem,)  or 
oratories,  which  were  like  chapels  of  ease  to  the 
temple  and  synagogues,  whither  the  people  were 
wont  to  come  solemnly  to  otter  up  their  prayers 
to  heaven.  They  were  built  (as  Epiphanius  in- 
forms us,)  without  the  city,  in  the  open  air,  and 
uncovered  ;  being  large,  spacious  places,  after  the 
manner  of  fora,  or  market-places,  and  these  they 
called  proseuchas.  And  that  the  Jews  and  Sama- 
ritans had  such  places  of  devotion,  he  proves  from 
this  very  place  at  Philippi,  where  St.  Paul  preach- 
ed. For  they  had  them  not  in  Judsea  only,  but 
even  at  Rome  itself,|  where  Tiberius  (as  Philo 
tells  Caius  the  emperor)  suffered  the  Jews  to  in- 
habit the  trans-tiberine  region,  and  undisturbedly 
to  live  according  to  the  rites  of  their  institutions  ; 
and  also  to  have  their  proseuchas,  and  to  meet  in 
them,  especially  upon  their  holy  sabbaths,  that 
th^y  might  be  familiarly  instructed  in  the  laws 
and  religion  of  their  country.  Such  they  had  also 
in  other^places,  especially  where  they  had  not,  or 
were  not  suffered  to  haVe  synagogues  for  their 
public  worship.     But  to  return. 

4.  As  they  were  going  to  this  oratory,  they 
were  often  followed  by  a  Pythoness,  a  maid-ser- 
vant,  acted  by  a  spirit  of  divination,  who  openly 


♦  Actsxvi.  6.  t  Acts  XV.  21. 

t"  In  qua  te  quaero  proseucha  1" — Juv.  Sat.  3,  v. 
296.  ^.  „    _ 

"  Proseucha]  Locus  Judaeorum,  ubi  orant.  — Vet. 
Schol.  ibid. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


64  

cried  out,  that  "these  men  were  the  servants  of 
the  most  high  God,  who  came  to  show  the  way  of 
salvation  to  the  world  ;"  so  easily  can  heaven  ex- 
tort a  testimony  from  the  mouth  of  hell.  But  St. 
Paul,  to  show  how  little  he  needed  Satan  to  be 
his  witness,  commanded  the  demon  to  come  out, 
which  immediately  left  her.  The  evil  spirit  thus 
thrown  out  of  possession,  presently  raised  a  storm 
against  the  apostles  ;  for  the  masters  of  the  dam- 
sel, who  used  by  her  diabolical  arts  to  raise  great 
advantages  to  themselves,  being  sensible  that 
now  then-  gainful  trade  was  spoiled,  resolved  to  be 
revenged  on  them  that  had  spoiled  it.  Accord- 
ingly they  laid  hold  upon  them,  and  dragged  them 
before  the  seat  of  judicature,  insinuating  to  the 
governors  that  these  men  were  Jews,  and  sought 
to  introduce  difTerent  customs  and  ways  of  wor- 
ship, contrary  to  the  laws  of  the  Roman  empire. 
The  magistrates  and  people  were  soon  agreed, 
the  one  t'o  give  sentence,  the  other  to  set  upon 
the  execution.  In  fine,  they  were  stript,  beaten, 
and  then  commanded  to  be  thrown  into  prison,  and 
the  gaoler  charged  to  keep  them  with  all  possible 
care  and  strictness  ;  who  to  make  sure  of  his 
charge,  thrust  them  into  the  inner  dungeon,  and 
made  their  feet  fast  in  the  stocks.  But  a  good 
man  can  turn  a  prison  into  a  chapel,  and  make  a 
den  of  thieves  to  be  a  house  of  prayer.  Our  feet 
cannot  be  bound  so  fast  to  the  earth  but  that  still 
our  hearts  may  mount  up  to  heaven.  At  midnight 
the  apostles  were  overheard  by  their  fellow-prison- 
ers, praying,  and  singing  liynuis  to  God.  But 
after  the  still  voice  came  the  tempest.  An  earth- 
quake suddenly  shook  the  foundations  of  the  pri- 
son, tlie  dooi's  flew  open,  and  their  chains  fell  oft'. 
The  gaoler  awaking  with  this  amaznig  accident, 
concluded  with  himself  that  the  prisoners  were 
fled  ;  and  to  prevent  ihe  sentence  of  public  justice 
was  going  to  lay  violent  hands  upon  himself; 
which  St.  I'au!  espying,  called  out  to  him  to  hold 
his  hand,  and  told  him  they  were  all  thore.  V/ho 
thereupon  came  in  to  them  with  a  greater  earth- 
quake in  his  own  conscience,  and  falling  down 
before  them,  asked  them,  "  Wliat  he  should  do  to 
be  saved?"  They  told  him,  there  was  no  other 
way  of  salvation  for  him  or  his,  than  a  hearty  and 
sincere  embracing  of  the  faith  of  Christ.  What 
a  happy  change  does  Christianity  make  in  the 
minds  of  rnen.  How  plain  does  it  smooth  the 
roughest  tempers,  and  instil  the  sweetest  princi- 
ples of  civility  and  good-nature  !  He  who  a  little 
before  had  tyrannized  over  the  apostles  with  the 
most  merciless  and  cruel  usage,  began  now  to 
treat  them  with  all  tlic  arts  of  kindness  and  chari- 
ty ;  bringing  them  out  of  the  dungeon,  and  wash- 
ing their  stripes  and  wounds,  and  being  more  fully 
instructed  in  the  principles  of  Christianity,  was, 
fo^'jether  with  his  whole  family,  immediately  bap- 
tized by  them.  Early  in  the  morning  the  magis- 
trates sent  otHcers  privately  to  release  them  ; — 
which  the  apostles  refused,  telling  them,  that  they 
were  not  only  innocent  persons,  but  Romans  ;  that 
they  had  been  illegally  condemned  and  beaten ; 
tliat  therefore  their  delivery  should  be  as  public 
as  the  injury,  and  an  open  vindication  of  their  in- 
nocency  ;  and  that  they  themselves,  who  had  sent 
them  thither,  should  fetch  them  thence.  For  the 
Roman  gcvernment  was  very  tender  of  the  lives 
and  liberties  of  its  own  subjects,  tiiose  especially 


that  were  free  denizens  of  Rome  :  every  injury 
ofFered  to  a  Roman  being  looked  upon  as  an  af- 
front against  the  majesty  of  the  whole  people  of 
Rome.*  Such  a  one  might  not  be  beaten  ;  bu". 
to  be  scourged  or  bound,  without  being  first  legal- 
ly heard  and  tried,  was  not  only  against  the  Ro- 
man, but  the  laws  of  all  other  nations  ;f  and  the 
more  public  any  injury  was,  the  greater  was  its 
aggravation ;  and  the  laws  required  a  more  strict 
and  solemn  reparation.  St.  Paul,  who  was  a  Ro- 
man, and  very  well  understood  the  laws  and  privi- 
leges of  Rome,  insisted  upon  this,  to  tlie  great 
startling  and  affi-ighting  of  the  magistrates  ;  who 
sensible  of  their  error,  came  to  the  prison,  and 
entreated  them  to  depart.  Whereupon  going  to 
Lydia's  house,  and  having  saluted  and  encouraged 
the  brethren,  they  departed  from  that  place. 

5.  Leaving  Philippi,  they  came  next  to  Thessa- 
lonica,  the  metropolis  of  Macedonia,  where  Paul, 
according  to  his  custom,  presently  went  to  the 
Jewish  synagogue,  for  three  Sabbath-days,  reason- 
ing and  disputing  with  them  ;|  proving  from  the 
predictions  of  the  Old  Testament,  that  the  Mes- 
siah was  to  suffer,  and  to  rise  again  ;  and  that  the 
blessed  Jesus  was  this  Messiah.  Great  number.s, 
especially  of  religious  proselytes,  were  converted 
by  his  preaching  ;  while,  like  the  sun  which  melts 
wax  but  hardens  clay,  it  wrought  quite  a  contrary 
eifect  in  the  unbeheving  Jews,  who  presently  set 
themselves  to  blow  up  the  city  into  a  tumult  and 
an  uproar,  and  missing  St.  Paul,  (who  had  with- 
drawn himself,)  they  fell  foul  upon  Jason,  in  whose 
house  he  lodged,  representing  to  tlie  magistrates 
that  they  were  enemies  to  Ceesar,  and  sought  to 
undermine  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  the  Roman 
empire.  At  night  Paul  and  Silas  were  conducted 
by  the  brethren  to  Bercea  ;  where  going  to  the  sy- 
nagogue, they  found  the  people  of  a  more  noble 
and  generous,  a  more  pliable  and  ingenuous  tem- 
per, ready  to  entertain  the  Christian  doctrine,  hut 
yet  not  v^'illing  to  take  it  merely  upon  the  apostle's 
word,  till  they  had  first  compared  his  preaching 
with  wiiat  the  Scriptures  say  of  the  Messiah  and 
his  doctrine.  And  the  success  was  answerable  in 
those  great  numbers  that  came  over  to  them.  But 
the  Jewish  malice  pursued  them  still;  for  hearing 
at  Thessalonica  what  entertainment  they  had 
found  in  this  place,  they  presently  came  down  to 
exasperate    and    stir  up  the   people;   to  avoid 

*  "Ista  laus  primum  majorum  nostrorum,  Quiri- 
tes,  qui  lenitate  legum  vestram  libertatem  munitam 
esse  voluerunt.  Q.uamobrem  inviolatum  corpus 
omnium  civium  Romanorum  integrum  libertalis 
defendo  servari  opertere.  Porcia  lex  virgas  ab 
omnium  civium  Rom.  corpora  amovit.  C.  Grac- 
chus le^em  tulit,  nede  capita  civium  Rom.  injussu 
vestro  judicaretur.— Cic.  Oratio  pro  C.  Rabir.  p. 
314,  tom.  ii. 

t  L.  7,  tr.  de  injuriis,  lib.  Ixix.  tit.  10. 

t  Paul,  by  thus  carefully  avoiding  giving  the 
Jews  cause  of  complaint  against  him,  both  acted  in 
conformity  with  the  spirit  of  our  Lord's  directions, 
and  greatly  furthered  the  object  of  his  ministry. 
Had  lie  been  less  wise,  or  less  holy ;  had  he  been  an 
impostor,  or  a  fanatic,  ha  would  not  have  thus 
sought  to  diffuse  the  knowledge  he  had  to  impart 
through  the  acknowledged  and  legal  channels  of 
communication,  but  would  have  published  at  once, 
and  with  every  species  of  popular  art,  his  notions  to 
the  Gentiles.— Ed. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


65 


which,  St.  Paul,  leaving  Silas  and  Timothy  be- 
hind him,  thought  good  to  withdraw  himself  from 
that  place. 

6.  From  Beroea  he  went  to  Athens,*  one  of  the 
most  renowned  cities  in  the  world,  excelling  all 
others  (says  an  ancient  historian)  in  antiquity, 
humanity,  and  learning.  Indeed  it  was  the  great 
seat  of  arts  and  learning ;  and  as  Cicero  will  Jiave 
it,  tlie  fountain  whence  civihty,  learning,  religion, 
arts,  and  laws,  vere  derived  into  all  other  nations. 
So  universally  flocked  to  by  all  that  had  but  the 
least  kindness  for  the  muses,  or  good  manners,  tlmt 
he  who  had  not  seen  Athens  was  accounted  a 
block ;  he  who  having  seen  it  and  was  not  in  love 
with  it,  a  dull,  stupid  ass  ;  and  he  who  after  he  had 
seen  it  could  be  willing  to  leave  it,  fit  for  nothing 
to  be  but  a  pack-horse.  Here  among  the  several 
sets  of  philosophers,  he  had  more  particular  con- 
tests with  the  Stoics  and  Epicureans,  who  beyond 
all  the  rest,  seemed  enemies  to  Christianity.  The 
Epicureans,  because  they  found  their  pleasure  and 
jovial  humor,  and  their  loose  and  exorbitant 
course  of  Ufe  so  much  checked  and  controlled  by 
the  strict  and  severe  precepts  of  Christ ;  and  that 
Christianity  so  plainly  and  positively  asserted  a 
divine  providence,  that  governs  the  world,  and 
that  will  adjudge  to  men  suitable  rewards  and 
punishments  in  another  world.  The  Stoics,  on 
t!ie  other  hand,  though  pretending  to  principles  of 
great  and  uncommon  rigor  and  severity,  and  such 
as  had  nearest  affinity  to  the  doctrines  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  yet  found  themselves  aggrieved  with 
it.  That  meek  and  humble  temper  of  mind,  that 
modesty  and  self-denial,  which  the  gospel  so  ear- 
nestly recommends  to  us,  and  so  strictly  requires 
of  us,  being  so  directly  contrary  to  the  immoderate 
pride  and  ambition  of  that  sect,  who  beyond  all 
proportions  of  reason,  were  not  ashamed  to  make 
then-  wise  men  equal  to,  and  in  some  things  to 
exceed  God  himself.t 

7.  While  St.  Paul  staid  at  Athens,  in  expecta- 
tion of  Silas  and  Timothy  to  come  to  him,  he 
went  up  and  down  to  take  a  more  curious  view 
and  survey  of  the  city,  whicii  he  found  miserably 
overgrown  with  superstition  and  idolatry ;  as  in- 
deed Athens  was  noted  by  all  their  own  writers 
for  far  greater  numbers  of  deities  and  idols  than 
all  Greece  besides.  They  were,  as  Strabo  notes, 
not  more  fond  of  strangers  and  novelties  in  other 
thing!-",  than  forward  to  comply  with  novelties  in 
religion  ;  ready  to  entertain  any  foreign  dei- 
ties and  rites  of  worship  ;  no  divinity  that  was 
elsewhere  adored  coming  amiss  to  them.  Whence 
Athens  is  by  one  of  their  own  orators  styled, 
"  the  gTeat  sun  and  centre  of  piety  and  religion." 


♦  Acts  xvii.  15. 

t  "  Tantura  sapienti  sua  quantum  deoomnis  retas 
patet.  Est  aliquid  quo  sapiens  antecedat  Deum. 
Ille  nature  beneficio  non  timet,  suo  sapiens.  Ecce 
res  majrna,  habere  imbecillitatem  hominis,  securita- 
tem  Dei."— Senec.  Epist.  53,  p.  131.  "  Solebat  Sex- 
tius  dicere,  Jovem  plus  non  posse,  quam  boimm  vi- 
rum.  Plura  Jupiter  habet,  quas  prrestat  hoininibus  : 
sed  inter  duos  honos  non  est  melior,  qui  locupletior. 
Jupiter  quo  antecedit  virum  bonuin  1  diutins  bonus 
est.  Sapiens  nihilo  ?e  minoris  restimaf,  quod  vir- 
tutes  ejus  spatio  breviore  clauduntur." — Id.  Episf. 
37,  p.  203. 


And  he  there  aggravates  the  impiety  of  Epicurus, 
in  speaking  unworthily  and  irreverently  of  the 
gods,  from  the  place  where  he  did  it ;  at  Athens, 
a  place  so  pious,  so  devoted  to  them.  Indeed 
herem  justly  commendable,  tliat  they  could  not 
brook  tlie  least  dislionorable  reflection  upon  any 
deity,  and  therefore  Apollonius  Tyaneus*  tells 
Timasion,  that  the  safest  way  was  to  speak  well 
of  all  tlie  gods  ;  and  especially  at  Athens,  where 
altars  were  dedicated  even  to  unknown  gods. 
And  so  St.  Paul  here  found  it,  for  among  the  se- 
veral shrines  and  places  of  worship  and  devotion, 
ho  took  more  particular  notice  of  one  altar  in- 
scribed to  the  unknown  God.  Tlio  entire  in- 
scription, whereof  the  apostle  quotes  only  part  of 
the  last  words,  is  thought  to  have  been  this  : 

GEOIj;   ASUS   KAI    EYPIinHS   KAI   AIBYHS'  GEJli. 
ArNJiSTili   KAI   HENilj. 


"  TO     THE    GODS     OF    ASIA,    EUKOPE,    AND    AFRICA  ; 
TO    THE    STRANGE    AND    UNKNOWN    G0D."t 

St.  Jerome  represents  it  in  the  same  manner,  only 
makes  it  gods,  in  the  plural  number;  which,  be- 
cause, says  he,  St.  Paul  needed  not,  he  only  cited 


*  But  this  Apollonius,  so  celebrated  in  his  times 
for  the  success  with  which  he  practised  the  arts  of 
mao'ic  that  he  was  set  up  by  the  pagans  as  the  rival 
of  Christ,  has  been  shown  to  have  clearly  professed 
his  belief  in  one  mighty  and  mysterious  Being,  who 
created  all  things.  The  contradiction  which  ex- 
isted between  this  notion,  and  that  of  the  sentiment 
above  stated,  was  only  an  apparent  contradiction  in 
the  theology  of  the  period,  and  was  supposed  to  be 
fully  explained  by  the  leasonings  of  the  philoso- 
phers. "  The  truth  of  this  whole  business,"  ob- 
serves the  venerable  Cudvvorth,  "seems  to  be  this: 
that  the  ancient  pagans  did  physiologize  in  their 
theology;  and  whether  looking  upon  the  whole 
world  animated,  as  the  supreme  God,  and  conse- 
quently the  several  parts  of  it  as  his  living  mem- 
bers; or  else,  apprehending  it  at  least  lo  be  a  mirror 
or  visible  image  of  the  invisible  Deity,  and  conse- 
quently all  its  several  parts  and  things  of  nature  but 
so  many  several  manifestations  of  the  Divine  f)OW- 
er  and  providence:  they  pretended  that  all  their 
devotion  towards  the  Deity  ought  not  to  be  huddled 
up  in  one  general  an("  confused  acknowledgment  of 
a  supreme  invisible  1  eing,  the  Creator  and  Gover- 
nor of  all;  but  that  all  the  several  manifestations  of 
the  Deity  in  the  world,  considered  singly  and  apart 
by  themselves,  should  be  mads  so  manv  disiinrt  ob- 
jects of  their  devout  veneration." — Intellectual  Sys- 
tem, Book  I.  chap.  iv.  p.  228,  ed.  1743.  The  awful 
corruption  which  followed  in  the  train  of  every 
mythological  invention,  proves  the  perfect  falseness 
of  this  philosophic  theory ;  the  grand  error  of  which 
seems  to  have  been,  that  it  confounded  the  vUl  of 
Deity  w'ith  the  operations  carried  on  by  its  energy  ; 
for  each  of  'he  gods  being  evidently  regarded  as 
professing  a  distinct  personality,  must  also  have 
j  been  considered  to  possess  a  distinct  will ;  distinct 
1  in  itself,  however  subjected  occasionally  to  the  greai- 
I  er  power  of  the  higher  god  or  gods.  From  this 
i  variety  of  wills,  existing  in  the  variously  exhibited 
and  divided  godhead,  arose,  we  apprehend,  all  that 
confusion  of  principles,  that  dark  cloud  of  enormous 
vice,  which  overspread  the  whole  heathen  world.— 
Ed. 
t  Oecumen.  Schol.  in  Act.  17,  p.  137.  * 


66 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


it  in  the  singular  *  Whicli  surely  he  affirms  with- 
out  any  just  ground  and  warrant;  though  it  cannot 
be  denied,  but  that  heathen  writers  make  frequent 
mention  of  the  altars  of  unknown  gods  that  were  at 
Athens,  as  there  want  not  others  wiio  speak  of 
some  erected  tJiere  to  an  unknown  God.  This  no- 
tion the  Athenians  might  probably  borrow  from 
tlie  Hebrews,  who  had  the  name  of  God  in  great 
secrecy  and  veneration.  This  being  one  of  the 
titles  given  him  by  the  prophet,  "  a  hidden  God, 
or  a  God  that  hides  himself."  Sure  I  am,  that 
Justin  Martyr  tells  us,  that,  one  of  the  principal 
names  given  to  God  by  some  of  the  heathens,  was 
UayKoxxpos,  "one  altogether  hidden."  Hence,  the 
Egyptians  probably  derived  their  great  God  Am- 
mon,  or  more  truly  Amun,  which  signifies  "  oc- 
cult," or  "  hidden."  Accordingly,  in  this  passage 
of  St.  Paul,  the  Syriac  interpreter  renders  it,  the 
"  altar  of  the  hidden  God."  The  Jews  were  in- 
finitely superstitious  in  concealing  the  name  of 
God,  not  thinking  it  lawful  ordinarily  to  pronounce 
it.  Tliis  made  the  Gentiles,  strangers  at  best 
both  to  the  language  and  religion  of  the  Jews,  at 
a  great  loss  by  what  name  to  call  him ;  one 
stylinjr  him  in  general  an  "uncertain,  unspeak- 
able, invisible  deity;"  whence  Caligula,  in  his 
ranting  oration  to  the  Jews,  told  them,  that 
wretches  as  they  were,  though  they  refused  to 
own  him,  whom  all  others  had  confessed  to  be  a 

deity,    yet   they  could    worship  ror  aKaravona^ov  v^iv, 

"their  own  nameless  God."  And  hence,  the 
Gentiles  derived  their  custom  of  keeping  secret 
the  name  of  their  gods ;  thus  Plutarch  tells  us  of 
the  tutelar  deity  of  Rome,  that  it  was  not  lawful 
to  name  it,  or  so  much  as  to  inquire  what  sex  it 
was  of,  whether  god  or  goddess ;  and  that  for  once 
revealing  it,  Valerius  Soranus,  though  tribune  of 
the  people,  came  to  an  untimely  end,  and  was  cru- 
cified; the  vilest  and  most  dishonorable  kind  of 
death.  Whereof,  among  other  reasons,  he  as- 
signs this,  that  by  concealing  the  author  of  their 
public  safety,  not  lie  only,  but  all  the  otiier  gods 
might  have  due  honor  and  worship  paid  to  tliem. 
Hence,  in  their  public  adorations,  after  the  invo- 
cation of  particular  deities,  they  were  wont  to  add 
some  more  general  and  comprehensive  form,  as 
when  Cicero  had  been  making  his  address  to 
most  of  their  particular  gods,  he  concludes  with 
a  "  Cccleros  item  Deos,  Deasque  nmnes  iviploro 
atque  obtestor."  Usually  the  form  was  "  dii 
DE.EQUE  OMNES."  The  roasou  whereof  was  this, 
that  not  being  assured  many  times  wliat  that  pe- 
cuhar  deity  was,  that  was  proper  to  their  purpose, 
or  what  numbers  of  gods  tliere  were  in  the  world, 
they  would  not  affront  or  offend  any,  by  seeming 
to  neglect  and  pass  them  by.  And  this  Chrysos- 
tom  thinks  to  have  been  particularly  designed  in 
the  erection  of  this  Athenian  altar,  they  were 
afraid  lest  there  might  be  some  other  deity  (be- 
sides those  whom  they  particularly  worshipped) 
as  yet  unknown  to  them,  though  honored  and 
adored  elsewhere  ;  and  therefore  "  for  the  more 
security,"  they  dedicated  an  altar  to  the  unknown 
god.     As  for  the  particular  occasion  of  erecting 


*  It  is  supposed  by  some  learned  authors  that  the 
plural  mipht  be  used,  not  to  express  that  there  were 
altars  to  many  unknown  gods,  but  that  there  were 
many  altars  to  the  one.— Ed. 


these  altars  at  Athens,  (omitting  that  of  Pan's 
appearing  to  Philippides,  mentioned  by  Oecume- 
nius,)  the  most  probable  seems  to  be  this.  When 
a  great  plague  raged  at  Athens,  and  several 
means  iiad  been  attempted  for  the  removal  of  it, 
they  were  advised  by  Epimenides  the  philoso- 
pher, to  build  an  altar,  and  dedicate  it  "  to  the 
proper  and  peculiar  deity  to  whom  it  did  apper- 
tain," be  he  what  he  would.  A  course  which, 
proving  successful,  no  doubt  gave  occasion  to 
them,  by  way  of  gratitude,  to  erect  more  shrines 
to  this  unknown  God.  And  accordingly  Laertius, 
who  lived  long  after  St.  Paul's  time,  tells  us  that 
there  were  such  nameless  altars  (he  means  such 
as  were  not  inscribed  to  any  particular  deity)  in 
and  about  Athens  in  his  days,  as  monuments  of 
that  eminent  deliverance.* 

7.  But  whatever  the  particular  cause  might  be, 
hence  it  was  that  St.  Paul  took  occasion  to  dis- 
course of  the  true,  but  to  them  unknown  God. 
For  the  philosophers  had  before  treated  him  with 
a  great  deal  of  scorn  and  derision,  asking  what 
that  idle  and  prating  fellow  had  to  say  to  them  1 
Others  looking  upon  him  as  a  propagator  of  new 
and  strange  gods,  because  he  preached  to  them 
Jesus  and  the  anastasis,  or  resurrection,  which 
they  looked  upon  as  two  upstart  deities,  lately 
come  into  the  world.  Hereupon  they  brought 
him  to  the  place  where  stood  the  famous  senate- 
house  of  the  Areopagitcs  ;  and  according  to  the 
Athenian  humor,  which  altogether  delighted  in 
curious  novelties,  running  up  and  down  the  forura 
and  places  of  public  concourse  to  see  any  strange 
accident,  or  hear  any  new  report,  (a  vice  which 
their  own  great  orator  long  since  taxed  them  with,) 
they  asked  him,  what  that  new  and  strange  doc- 
trine was  which  he  preached  to  them  1  Where- 
upon, in  a  neat  and  elegant  discourse  he  began  to 
tell  them,  he  had  observed  how  much  they  were 
overrun  with  superstition  ;f  that  their  zeal  for  re- 
ligion was  indeed  generous  and  commendable,  but 
wliich  miserably  over-shot  its  due  measures  and 
proportions ;  that  he  had  taken  notice  of  an  altar 
among  them  inscribed,  to  the  unknown  God  ;  and 
therefore,  in  compassion  to  their  blind  and  mis- 
guided zeal,  he  would  declare  unto  them  the 
Deity  which  they  ignorantly  worshipped  ;  and  this 
was  no  other  than  the  great  God,  the  creator  of 
all  things,  the  supreme  governor  and  ruler  of  the 
world,  who  was  incapable  of  being  confined  with- 
in any  temple  or  human  fabric  ;  that  no  image 
could  be  made  as  a  proper  instrument  to  represent 
him  ;  that  he  needed  no  gifts  or  sacrifices,  being 

*  Cudworth  (Intellec.  Sys.  b.  1,  c.  4,)  quotes  from 
Liician's  Dialogue,  Philopatzs,  to  illustrate  this 
point,  the  expression  of  Ciilias:  "No,  by  the  un- 
known god  of  Athens ;"  and  this  of  Triephon  : 
Hfitcs  ic  Tov  £v  'Adrjvais  AyvincTov  cfcvpovTH  ki  irpoaKvvtj- 
uavTCS,  x^^'P^i   "f  upavov  CKTCivavTes,  rovTio  tv^aptaTtico/icv, 

0)5  TaTa^iiDOcvTCi,  &c.  "  But  We,  having  found  out 
that  unknown  god  at  Athens,  and  worshipped  him 
with  hand«  stretched  up  to  heaven,  will  give  thanks 
to  him,  as  having  been  thought  worthy  to  be  made 
subject  to  this  power." — Ed. 

t  The  word  AuaiiaiiJiiav,  here  translated  supersti- 
tion, was  used  by  the  apostle  in  its  best,  or  mildest 
sense;  in  which  manner  it  is  found  employed  by 
many  heathen  authors.  Com.  in  Act.  Apos.  Poll 
Synopo3.  i.  h.  1.— Ed. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


67 


himself  the  fountain,  from  whence  life,  hreath,  and 
all  other  blessings  were  derived  to  particular 
beings:  that  fi-om  one  common  original  he  had 
made  the  whole  race  of  mankind  ;  and  had  wisely 
fixed  and  determined  the  times  and  bounds  of  their 
habitation ;  and  all  to  this  end,  that  men  might  be 
the  strongiier  obliged  to  seek  after  him,  and  sin- 
cerely to  serve  and  worship  liim.  A  duty  which 
they  might  easily  attain  to,  (though  otherwise 
sunk  into  the  deepest  degeneracy,  and  overspread 
with  the  grossest  darkness,)  he  every  where 
affording  such  palpable  evidences  of  liis  own 
being  and  providence,  that  he  seemed  to  stand 
near  and  touch  ns  ;  it  being  entirely  from  liim  that 
we  derive  our  life,  motion,  and  subsistence.  A 
tiling  acknowledged  even  by  their  own  poet,  that 
"  we  also  are  his  offspring."  If,  tlierefore,  God 
was  our  creator,  it  was  highly  unreasonable  to 
think  that  we  could  make  any  image  or  reprcsen- 
1  ation  of  him ;  that  it  was  too  long  already,  that 
the  divine  patience  had  borne  with  the  manners 
of  men,  and  suffered  them  to  go  on  in  their  blind 
idolatries ;  that  now  ho  expected  a  general  re- 
pentance and  reformation  from  the  world,  espe- 
cially having,  by  the  publishing  of  his  gospel,  put 
out  of  all  dispute  the  case  of  a  future  judgment, 
and  particularly  appointed  the  Holy  Jesus  to  be 
the  person  that  should  sentence  and  judge  the 
world  :  by  wliose  resurrection  he  had  given  suf- 
ficient evidence  and  assurance  of  it.  No  sooner 
had  he  mentioned  the  resurrection,  but  some  of 
the  philosophers  (no  doubt  Epicureans,  who  were 
wont  to  laugh  at  the  notion  of  a  future  state) 
mocked  and  derided  him  ;  others  more  gravely 
answered,  that  they  would  hear  him  again  con- 
cerning this  matter.  But  his  discourse,  however 
scorned  and  slighted,  did  not  wholly  want  its  de- 
sired effect,  and  that  upon  some  of  the  greatest 
quality  and  rank  among  them.  In  the  number  of 
whom  was  Dionysius,  one  of  the  grave  senators 
and  judges  of  the  Areopagus ;  and  Damarius, 
whom  the  ancients  not  improbably  make  his  wife. 
8.  This  Dionysius  was  bred  at  Athens,  in  all 
the  learned  arts  and  sciences  :  at  five-and-twenty 
years  of  age  he  is  said  to  have  travelled  into 
Egypt,  to  perfect  himself  in  the  study  of  astrology  ; 
for  which  that  nation  had  the  credit  and  renown. 
Here  beholding  the  miraculous  eclipse  that  was 
at  the  time  of  our  Saviour's  passion,  he  concluded 
that  some  great  accident  must  needs  be  coming 
upon  the  world.  Returning  to  Athens,  he  became 
one  of  the  senators  of  the  Areopagus,  disputed 
with  St.  Paul,  and  was  by  him  converted  from  his 
errors  and  idolatry ;  and  being  throughly  in- 
structed, was  by  him  (as  the  ancients  inform  us) 
made  the  first  bishop  of  Athens.  As  for  those 
that  tell  us,  that  he  went  afterwards  into  France, 
by  the  direction  of  Clemens  of  Rome,  planted 
Christianity  at,  and  became  bishop  of  Paris;  of 
his  suffering  martyrdom  there  under  Domitian,  his 
carrying  his  head  for  the  space  of  two  miles  in  his 
iiand,  after  it  had  been  cut  off",  and  the  rest  of  his 
miracles  done  before  and  after  his  death,  I  have  as 
little  leisure  to  inquire  into  them  as  I  have  faith 
to  believe  them.  Indeed,  the  foundation  of  all  is 
justly  denied  ;  viz.,  that  ever  he  was  there,  a  thing 
never  heard  of  till  the  limes  of  Charles  the  Great ; 
though  since  that,  volumes  have  been  written  of 
tljis   controversy,    both    heretofore    and   of  later 


tinies;  among  which,  J.  Sirmondus,  the  Jesuit, 
and  Monsieur  Launoy,  one  of  the  learned  doctors 
of  the  Sorbon,  have  unanswerably  proved  the 
Athenian  and  Parisinian  Dyonisius  to  bo  distinct 
persons.  For  the  books  that  go  under  his  name, 
M.  Daille  has  sufficiently  evinced  them  to  be  of  a 
date  many  hundred  years  younger  than  St. 
Denys;*  though  I  doubt  not  but  they  may  claim 
a  greater  antiquity  than  what  h--  allows  them. 
But  whoever  was  their  author,  I  ^m  sure  Suidas 
has  overstretched  the  praise  of  them  l.eyond  all 
proportion,  when  he  gives  them  this  character, 
"  that  whoever  considers  the  elegancy  of  his  dis- 
courses, and  the  profoundness  of  his  mitions  and 
speculations,  must  needs  conclude  that  they  are 
not  the  issue  of  any  human  understanding,  but  of 
some  divine  and  immaterial  power."  But  to  re- 
turn to  our  apostle. 


SECTION  IV. 

Of  St.  Paul's  acts  at  Corinth  arid  Ephesus. 

After  his  departure  from  Athens,f  he  went  to 
Corinth,  the  metropolis  of  Greece,  and  the  resi- 
dence of  the  proconsul  of  Achaia ;  where  ho 
found  Aquila  and  Priscilla  lately  come  fiom  Italy, 
banished  out  of  Rome  by  the  decree  of  Claudius ; 
and  they  being  of  the  same  trade  and  profession 
wherein  he  had  been  educated  in  his  youth,  he 
wrought  together  with  them,  lest  he  should  be 
unnecessarily  burthensomeunto  any,  which  for  the 
same  reason  he  did  in  some  other  places.  Hither, 
after  some  time,  Silas  and  Timothy  came  to  him. 
In  the  synagogue  he  frequently  disputed  with  the 
Jews  and  proselytes,  reasoning  and  proving,  that 
Jesus  was  the  true  Messiah.  They,  according  to 
the  nature  of  the  men,  made  head  and  opposed 
him  ;  and  what  they  could  not  conquer  by  argu- 
ment and  force  of  reason,  they  endeavored  to  car- 
ry by  noise  and  clamor,  mixed  with  blasphemies 
and  revilings,  the  last  refuges  of  an  impotent  and 
baffled  cause.  Whereat  to  testify  his  resentment, 
he  shook  his  garments  and  told  them,  since  he 
saw  them  resolved  to  pull  down  vengeance  and 
destruction  upon  their  own  heads,  he  for  his  part 
was  guiltless  and  innocent,  and  would  henceforth 
address  himself  unto  the  Gentiles.  Accordingly 
he  left  them,  and  went  into  the  house  of  Justus,  a 
religious  proselyte,  where,  by  his  preaching  and 
the  many  miracles  which  he  wrought,  he  convert- 
ed great  numbers  to  the  faith.  Amongst  which 
were  Crispus,  the  chief  ruler  of  the  synagogue, 
Gains  and  Stephanus,  who,  together  with  their 
families,  embraced  the  doctrine  of  the  gospel,  and 
were  baptized  into  the  Christian  faith.  But  the 
constant  returns   of  mahce  and  ingratitude  are 


*  Dupin  has  entered  nt  lull  into  the  examination 
of  these  supposed  works  of  Dionysius  the  Areopa- 
^ite;  and  concludes  that  they  were  most  probably 
forged  towards  the  close  of  the  fifth,  or  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  sixth  century;  that  it  is  certain 
they  were  written  since  the  fourth  century,  and  be- 
fore the  middle  of  the  sixth  ;  while  the  intentional 
forgery  is  made  plain  by  the  author's  evidently  af- 
fecting to  have  lived  in  the  apostolic  age.  Biblioth. 
Pat.  vol.i.p.  3f).— Ed, 

tAclsxviii.  1. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


68 


enoucrhto  tire  the  largest  clianty,  and  coo  tne 
S'generous  resolution.  Therefore,  that  the 
rostllmi,rht  not  be  discouraged  by  the  restless 
a  tempts  dnd  machinations  of  his  enemies  our 
Lord  appeared  to  him  in  a  vision  told  him  that 
notwithstanding  the  bad  success  he  had  hitherto 
met  with,  there  was  a  great  harvest  to  be  gather- 
ed in  that  place  ;  that  he  should  not  be  afraid  of 
his  enemies,  but  go  on  to  preach  confidently  and 
securely,  for  that  he  himself  would  stand  by  him 
and  pre"serve  liim.  ■.    1 1      i  „ 

■■>    About  this  time,*  as  is  most  probable,  be 
wrote  his  first  epistle  to  the  Thessalonians ;  Sdas 
and  Timothy  being  lately  returned  froni  thence, 
an.l  having  done  the  message  for  which  he  had 
sent  themthither.     The  main  design  of  the  epis- 
tle is  to  confirm  them  in  the  belief  of  the  Chris- 
tian reliction,  and  tliat  they  would  persevere  in  it, 
nol  withstanding  all  the  afflictions  and  persecutions 
which  he  had  told  tliem  would  ensue  upon  then- 
profession  of  tlie  gospel,  and  to  instruct  them  in 
the  main  duties  of  a  Christian  and  religious  life. 
While  the  apostle  was  thus  employed,  the  malice 
of  the  Jews  was  no  less  at  work  against  him  ;  and 
universally  combining  togetlier,  they  brought  him 
before  Gallio,  the  proconsul  of  the  province,  elder 
brother  to  the  famous  Seneca;  before  him  they 
accused  the  apostle  as  an  innovator  in  religion, 
that  sought  to  introduce  a  new  way  of  worship, 
contrary  to  what  was  established  by  the  Jewish 
law,  and  permitted  by  the  Roman  powers.     The 
apostle  was  ready  to  have  pleaded  his  own  cause, 
but  the  proconsul  told  them,  that  had  it  been  a 
matter  of  right  or  wrong,  that  had  fallen  under 
the  cofTiizance  of  the  civil  judicature,  it  had  been 
very  fi't  and  reasonable  that  he  should  have  heard 
and  determined  the  case;  but  since  the  contro- 
versy was  only  concerning  the   punctilios    and 
niceties  of  their  religion,  it  was  very  improper  for 
him  to  be  a  judge  in  such  matters.     And  when 
they  still  clamored  about  it,  he  threw  out  their  in- 
dictment, and  commanded  his   officers  to  drive 
ihem  out  of  court.      Whereupon   some   of   the 
townsmen  seized  upon  Sostlienes,  one  of  the  rulers 
of  the  .Jewish  consistory,  a  man  active  and  busy 
in  this  insurrection,  and  beat  him  even  before  the 
court  of  judicature,  the  proconsul  not  at  all  con- 
cerning himself  about  it.     A  year  and  a  half  St. 
Paul  continued  in  this  place,  and  before  his  de- 
parture thence,  wrote  his  second  epistle  to  the 
Thessalonians,  to  supply  the  want  of  his  coming 
to  them,  which  in  his  former  he  had  resolved  on, 
and  for  which,  in  a  manner,  ho  had  engaged  his 
promise.     In  this,  therefore,   he  endeavors  again 
to  confirm  their  minds  in  the  truth  of  the  gospel, 
and  that  they  would  not  bo  shaken  with  those 
troubles  which  the  wicked  unbelievhig  Jews  would 
not  cease  to  create  them  ;  a  lost  and' undone  race 
of   men,   and  whom  the  divine  vengeance    was 
ready  finally  to   overtake.      And   because  some 
passages  in  his  former  letter,  relating  to  this  de- 
struction, had  been  misunderstood,  as  if  this  day 
of  the  Lord  were  just  then  at  hand,  he  rectifies 
those  mistakes,  and  shows  what  must  precede  our 
Lord's  coming  unto  judgment. 
'S.  St.  Paul  having  thus  fully  planted  and  culti- 


*  Tliat  is,  at  tlie  close  of  the  year  51,  or  the  be- 
ginning-of  llic  fiillowiim  year.— En.  ' 


vated  the   church  at  Corinth,  resolved  now  for 
Syria  *     And  taking  along  with  him  Aquila  and 
Priscilla,  at  Cenchrea,   the  port  and   harbor   of 
Corinth,  Aquila  (for  of  him  it  is  certainly  to  be  un- 
derstood) shaved  his  head,  in  performance  of  a 
Nazarite  vow  he  had  formerly  made,  the  time 
whereof  was  now  run  out.     In  his  passage  into 
Syria  he  came  to  Ephesus,  where  he  preached 
awhUe  in  the  synagogue  of  the  Jews.  And  though 
desired  to  stay  with  them,  yet  having  resolved  to 
be  at  Jerusalem  at  the  passover,  (probably  that  he 
miffht  have   the  fitter  opportumty  to  meet   his 
friends,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  those  vast  num- 
bers that  usually  flocked  to  that  great  solemnity,) 
he  promised  that  in  his  return  he  would  come  again 
to  them.     Sailing  thence,  he  landed   at  Cnesarea, 
and  thence  went  up  to  Jerusalem  ;  where  having 
visited  the  church,  and  kept  the  feast,  he  went 
down  to  Antioch.     Here  having  staid  some  time, 
ho  traversed  the  countries  of  Galatia  and  Phrygia, 
confirming,  as  he  went,  the  new-converted  Chris- 
tians, and  so  came  to  Ephesus  ;  where  finding  cer- 
tain   Christian    disciples,   he   inquired   of    them, 
whether,  since  their  conversion,  they  had  received 
the  miraculous  gifts  and  powers  of  the  Holy  Ghost.f 
They  told  him,  tliat  the  doctrine  which  they  had 
received  had  nothing  in  it  of  that  nature,  nor  had 
they  ever  heard  that  any  such  extraordinary  spirit 
had  of  late   been   bestowed   upon   the   church. 
Hereupon  he  further  inquired  unto  what  they  had 
been  baptized  ■?  the  (Christian  baptism  being  ad- 
ministered in  the  name  of  the  Holy  Ghost.)  They 
answered,  they  had  received  no  more  tlian  John's 
baptism  ;  which  though  it  obliged  men  to  repent- 
ance, yet  did  it  explicitly   speak  nothing  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  or  its  gifts  and  powers.     To  this  the 
apostle  replied,  that  though  John's   baptism  did 
openly  oblige  to  nothing  but  repentance,  yet  that 
it  did  implicitly  acknowledge  the  whole  doctrine 
concerning  CliVist  and  the  Holy  Ghost.  Whereto 
they  assenting,  were  solemnly  initiated  by  Chris- 
tian baptism,  and  the  apostle  laying  his  liands  upon 
them,  they  immediately  received  the  Holy  Ghost, 
in  the  gift  of  tongues,  prophecy,  and  other  mira- 
culous powers  conferred  upon  them. 

4.  After  this  he  entered  into  the  Jewish  syna- 
gogues, where  for  the  first  three  months  he  con- 
tended and  disputed  with  the  Jews,  endeavoring 
with  great  earnestness  and  resolution  to  convince 
them'of  the  truth  of  those  things  that  concerned 
the  Christian  religion.  But  when,  instead  of  suc- 
cess, he  met  with  nothing  but  refractoriness  and 
infidelity,  he  left  the  synagogue,  and  taking  those 
with  him  whom  he  had  converted,  instructed  them, 
and  others  that  resorted  to  him,  in  the  school  of  one 
Tyrannus,  a  place  where  scholars  were  wont  to  be 
educated  and  instructed.^  In  this  manner  he  con- 
tinued for  two  years  together  ;  in  which  time  the 
Jews  and  proselytes  of  the  whole  proconsular  Asia 

*  Actsxviii.  18.  +  Acts  xix.  1. 

t  Some  commentators  have  conjectured  that  Ty- 
rannus was  a  title,  not  a  name  ;  but  there  appears 
no  sufficient  ground  for  this  supposition.  He  is  ge- 
nerally believed  to  have  been  the  master  of  one  ot 
those  schools  which  were  common  among  the  Jews, 
and  were  instituted  for  private  instruction,  as  those 
over  which  the  rabbis,  or  a  consistory  presided,  were 
for  the  teaching  of  the  law  in  a  more  public  way.— 
En. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


69 


iiad  opportunity  of  having  the  gospel  preached  to 
them.  And  because  miracles  are  the  clearest  evi- 
dence of  a  divine  commission,  and  the  most  imme- 
diate credentials  of  heaven,  those  which  do  near- 
liest  affect  our  senses,  and  consequently  have  the 
strongest  influence  upon  our  minds,  therefore  God 
was  pleased  to  ratify  the  doctrine  which  St.  Paul 
dehvercd  by  great  and  miraculous  operations ;  and 
those  of  somewhat  a  more  peculiar  and  e.xtraor- 
dinary  nature.  Insomuch  that  he  did  not  only  heal 
those  tliat  came  to  liim,  but  if  napkins  or  handker- 
chiefs were  but  touclied  by  him,  and  applied  unto 
the  sick,  their  diseases  immediately  vanished,  and 
the  demons  and  evil  spirits  departed  out  of  those 
that  were  possessed  by  them. 

5.  Epliesus,  above  all  other  places  in  the  world, 
was  noted  of  old  for  the  study  of  magic,  and  all 
secret  and  hidden  arts,  whence  the  'E^Etna  ypannara 
so  often  spoken  of  by  the  ancients,  whicii  were 
certain  obscure  and  mystical  spells  and  charms,  by 
which  they  endeavored  to  heal  diseases  and  drive 
away  evil  spirits,  and  do  things  beyond  tlie  reach 
and  apprehensions  of  common  people.*  Besides 
other  professor?  of  this  black  art,  there  were  at 
this  time  at  Eph.esus  certain  Jews,  who  dealt  in 
the  arts  of  exorcism  and  incantation  ;  a  craft  and 
mystery  which  Josephusf  affirms  to  have  been  de- 
rived from  Solomon  ;f  who,  he  tells  us,  did  not 
only  find  it  out,  but  composed  forms  of  exorcism 
and  enchantment,  whereby  to  cure  diseases,  and 
expel  demons,  so  as  they  should  never  return  again  ; 
and  adds,  "  that  this  art  was  still  in  force  among 
the  Jews  ;"  instances  VN-eereof,  he  tells  us,  he  iiim- 
self  had  seen,  having  beheld  one  Eleazar,  a  Jew, 
in  the  presence  of  Vespasian,  his  sons,  and  the 
great  officers  of  his  army,  curing  demoniacs,  by 
holding  a  ring  to  their  nose,  under  whose  seal  was 
hid  the  root  of  a  certaui  plant,  prescribed  by  Solo- 
mon, at  the  scent  whereof  the  demon  presently 
took  leave  and  was  gone,  the  patient  tailing  to  the 
ground,  while  the  exorcist,  by  mentioning  Solomon, 
and  reciting  some  charms  made  by  him,  stood  over 


*  Much  curious  learning  has  been  employed  in 
the  examinations  of  this  subject.  The  Ephesian  in- 
cantations, are  alluded  to  as  a  proverb  by  Menan- 
der ;  and  the  Ephesian  letters,  appear  to  have  been 
six  mystical  words,  which  being  bound  on  some  part 
of  the  person,  in  a  similar  manner  probably  as  the 
phylacteries  of  the  Jews,  were  considered  a  sufficient 
protection  against  harm.  The  names  of  these  let- 
ters were  : — 1.  Askion  ;  2.  Kataskion  ;  3.  Lin  ;  4. 
Telras  ;  5.  Damnameuens ;  6.  Asion;  the  signifi- 
cation of  whicli  wassaid  to  be  : — darkness,  light,  the 
earth,  the  year,  the  sun,  and  truth.  Combatants  in 
the  public  games  v.'ere  accustomed  to  wear  these 
charms  about  them  as  a  means  of  strength. — Ed. 

t  Antiq.  Jud.  lib.  viii.  cap.  2,  p.  257. 

t  Solomon  might  have  imbibed  a  love  of  magical 
arts  from  some  of  the  heathen  women,  who  blinded 
his  understanding  in  so  many  other  respects;  or  the 
extensive  knowledge  of  nature  which  he  possessed 
might,  among  an  uneducated  people,  have  led  to 
the  notion  of  his  usins  incantations  ;  as  was  the  case 
with  the  scholars  and  philosophers  who  advanced 
beyond  their  cotemporariesin  the  middle  ages.  But 
there  is  no  room  for  believing  that  the  enchantments 
practised  by  the  Jewish  exorcists  had  their  origin 
with  the  son  of  David,  whose  name  was  probably 
only  used  to  give  dignity  and  authority  to  the  art.— 
Ed. 


him,  and  charged  the  evil  spirit  never  to  return. 
And  to  let  them  see  that  he  was  really  gone,  lie 
commanded  the  demon,  as  he  went  out,  to  over- 
turn a  cup  full  of  water,  whicli  he  had  caused  to 
be  set  in  the  room  before  them.  In  the  number  of 
these  conjurers  now  at  Ephesus,  there  were  the 
seven  sons  of  Sceva,  one  of  the  chief  heads  of  the 
families  of  the  priests,  who  seeing  what  great 
things  were  done  by  calling  over  demoniacs  the 
name  of  Christ,  attempted  themselves  to  do  tiie  like, 
conjuring  the  evil  spirit  in  the  name  of  that  Jesus, 
whom  Paul  preached,  to  depart.  Butth^  stubborn 
demon  v,-ould  not  obey  the  warrant,  tell;ng  them, 
lie  knew  who  Jesus  and  Paul  were,  but  did  not 
understand  what  authority  they  had  to  use  his 
name.  And  not  content  with  this,  forc:.'d  the  de- 
moniac violently  to  fall  upon  them,  to  tear  their 
clotlies,  and  wound  their  bodies  ;  scarce  suffering 
them  to  escape  with  tiie  safety  of  their  lives.  An 
accident  that  begot  great  terror  in  the  minds  of 
men,  and  became  the  occasion  of  converting  many 
to  the  faith  ;  who  came  to  the  apostle,  and  con- 
fessed the  former  course  and  manner  of  their  lives. 
Several  also,  who  had  traded  in  curious  arts,  and 
tlie  mysterious  metiiods  of  spells  and  charms, 
freely  brought  their  books  of  magic  rites,  (whoso 
price,  had  they  been  to  be  sold,  according  to  the 
rates  which  men  who  dealt  in  those  cursed  mys- 
teries put  upon  them,  would  have  amounted  to  the 
value  of  above  one  tliousand  five  hundred  pounds,* 
and  openly  burnt  them  before  the  people  ;  them- 
selves adjudging  them  to  those  ilamcs  to  which 
they  were  condemned  by  tiie  laws  of  the  empire.f 
For  so  we  find  the  Roman  lava's  prohibiting  any  to 
keep  books  of  magic  arts,  and  that  where  any  such 
were  found,  their  goods  should  be  forfeited,  tiie 
books  publicly  burned,  the  persons  banisiied  ;  and 
if  of  a  meaner  rank,  beheaded.  These  books  the 
penitent  converts  did  of  their  own  accord  sacri- 
fice to  the  nre,  not  tempted  to  spare  them  either 
by  their  former  love  to  them,  or  the  present  price 
and  value  of  them.  With  so  mighty  an  efficacy 
did  the  gospel  prevail  over  the  minds  of  men. 

6.  About  this  time  it  was  that  thf3  apostle  writ 
his  epistle  to  the  Galatians.  For  ];e  had  heard 
that  since  his  departure,  corrupt  opinions  had  got 
in  amongst  them  about  the  necessary  observation 
of  the  legal  rites  ;  and  that  seveal  impostors  were 
crept  into  that  church,  who  knew  no  better  way 
to  undermine  the  doctrine  he  had  planted  there, 
than  by  vihfying  his  person,  sligliting  him  as  an 
apostle  only  at  the  second  hand,  not  to  be  compar- 
ed with  Peter,  James,  and  Jolm,  who  had  famih- 
arly  conversed  with  Christ  in  the  days  of  his  flesh, 
and  been  immediately  deputed  by  him.  In  this 
epistle,  therefore,  he  reproves  them  with  some 
necessary  smartness  and  severity,  that  they  had 
been  so  soon  led  out  of  that  right  way  wherein  he 
had  set  them,  and  had  so  easily  suffered  them- 
selves to  be  imposed  upon  by  the  crafty  artifices 
of  seducers.     He  vindicates  the  honor  of  his  apos- 

*  Acts  xix.  19.  T     •  1 

t  But  reckoning  the  pieces  of  silver  as  Jewish 
shekels,  at  three  shillings  each,  the  value  usually 
assigned  them,  the  sum  was  seven  thousand  five 
hundred  pounds;  or  if,  as  some  authors  tlimk,  the 
Roman  sestertius  was  meant,  the  value  of  the  books 
was  only  a  little  more  than  four  hundred  pounds.— 
Ed. 


70 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


tolate,  and  the  immediate  receiving  his  commission 
from  Christ,  wherein  he  sliow?,  that  he  came  not 
behind  the  very  best  of  those  apostles.  He 
largely  refutes  those  judaical  opinions  tiiat  had 
tainted  and  infected  them,  and  in  the  conclusion 
instructs  them  in  the  rules  and  duties  of  a  holy 
life.  While  the  apostle  thus  stayed  at  Ephesus, 
he  resolved  with  himself  to  pass  through  Macedo- 
nia and  Achaia,  thence  to  Jerusalem,  and  so  to 
Rome.  But  for  the  present  altered  his  resolution, 
and  continued  still  at  Ephesus. 

7.  During  his  stay  in  this  place,  an  accident 
happened,  that  involved  him  in  great  trouble  and 
danger.  Ephesus,  above  all  the  cities  of  the  east, 
was  renowned  for  the  famous  temple  of  Diana, 
one  of  the  stateliest  temples  of  the  world. 
It  was  (as  Pliny  tells  us)  the  very  wonder  of 
magnificence,  built  at  the  common  charges  of  all 
Asia  properly  so  called,  two  hundred  and  twenty 
years  (clsewlicre  he  says  four  hundred)  in  build- 
ing, whicli  we  are  to  understand  of  its  successive 
rebuildings  and  reparations,  being  often  wasted 
and  destroyed.     It  was  four  hundred  and  twenty 


have  cast  them  to  the  wild  beasts.  St.  Paiil 
hearing  of  their  danger,  v/ould  have  ventured 
hunself  among  them,  had  not  the  Christians,  nay, 
some  even  of  tlie  Gentile  priests,  governors  of  the 
po])ular  games  and  sports  earnestly  dissuaded  him 
from  it ;  well  knowing  that  the  people  were  re- 
solved, if  they  could  meet  w  ith  him,  to  throw  him 
to  the  wild  beasts,  that  were  kept  there  for  the 
disport  and  pleasure  of  tiie  people.  And  this 
doubtless  he  means,  when  elsewhere  he  tells  us, 
that  "  he  fought  with  beasts  at  Ephesus  :"*  pro- 
bably intending  what  the  people  designed,  though 
he  did  not  actually  suffer ;  thougli  the  brutish  rage, 
the  savage  and  inhuman  manners  of  this  people 
did  sufficiently  deserve  that  the  censure  and 
character  slioukl  be  fixed  upon  themselves. 

8.  Great  was  the  confusion  of  the  multitude, 
the  major  part  not  knowing  the  reason  of  the  con- 
course :  in  which  distraction  Alexander,  a  Jewish 
convert,  being  thrust  forward  iiy  the  Jews,  to  be 
questioned  and  examined  about  this  matter,  lie 
would  accordingly  have  made  liis  apology  to  the 
people,   intending  no  doubt  to  clear  himself  by 


feet  lon<T,  'two  hundred  and  twenty  broad,  sup-    casting  the  whole  blame  upon  St..  Paul ;  this  being, 
.,1  Kv  nno  huuArf^A  pnri  twpntv-spveii  oillars.    very  probably,  that  Alexander  the  coppersmith,  of 


five 

ported  by  one  hundred  and  twenty-seven  pillars 
sixty  feet  high  ;  for  its  antiquity,  it  was  in  some 
degree  before  the  times  of  Bacchus,  equal  to  the 
Amazons,  (by  whom  it  is  generally  said  to  have 
been  first  built,)  as  the  Ephesian  ambassadors  told 

Tiberiup,  till  bv  degrees  it  grew  up  into  that  great-  ,  ,.         ^     ^  t      -      i    ,       i 

ness  and  splendor,lhat  it  was  generally  reckoned  i  perceiving  him  to  be  a  Jew,  and  thereby  suspect- 
one  of  tlie  seven  wonders  of  the  world.  But  that  ing  him  to  be  one  of  St.  Paul  s  associates,  began 
which  gave  the  rrreatest  fame  and  reputation  to  it,  I  to  raise  an  outcry  for  near  two  hours  together, 
was  an  image  o'f  Diana  kept  there,  made  of  no  I  wherein  nothing  could  be  heard,  but  "  Great  is 
very  costly  materials,  but  which  the  crafty  priests  Diana  of  the  Ephesians."  The  noise  being  a 
.,^A^A  tu^  r.r,^rA^  „.oc  v,„„^M,i  nil  li.irno.i  crfi_    llttlo  ovor,  tho  recordor,  a  discreet  and  prudent 


ery  probably,  that  Alexander  the  coppers 
whom  our  apostle  elsev.here  complains,  "  that  he 
did  him  much  evil,  and  greatly  withstood  his 
words  ;"f  and  "  whom  he  delivered  over  unto 
Satan"  for  his  apostacy,  for  blaspheming  Christ, 
and  reproaching  Christianity.     But  the  multitude 


persuaded  the  people  was  beyond  all  human  arti 
fice  or  contrivement ;  and  that  it  was  immediately 
formed  by  Jupiter,  and  dropped  down  from  heaven  ; 
having  first  killed,  or  banished  the  artists  that 
made  it,  (as  Suidas  informs  us,)  that  the  cheat 
might  not  be  discovered  ;  by  which  means  tliey 
drew  not  Ephesus  only,  but  the  whole  world  into 
a  mighty  veneration  of  it.  Besides  there  were 
within  tliis  temple  multitudes  of  silver  cabinets, 
or  chappelets,  little  shrines,  made  in  fashion  of 
the  temple,  wherein  was  placed  the  image  of 
Diana.  For  the  making  of  these  holy  shrines, 
great  numbers  of  silversmiths  were  employed  and 
maintained ;  among  whom  one  Demetrius  was  a 
leading  man,  who  foreseeing  that  if  the  Christian 
religion  still  got  ground,  their  gainful  trade  would 
soon  come  to  nothing,  presently  called  together 
the  men  of  his  profession,  especially  those  whom 
lie  himself  set  on  work  ;  told  them,  that  now  their 
welfare  and  livelihood  were  concerned,  and  that 
the  fortunes  of  their  wives  and  children  lay  at 
stake ;  that  it  was  plain  tliat  this  Paul  had 
perverted  citj  and  country,  and  persuaded  the 
people  that  th-  images  which  they  made  and 
worshipped  w  t;re  no  real  gods  ;  by  which  means 
their  trade  was  not  only  like  to  fall  to  the  ground, 
but  also  the  honor  and  magnificence  of  the  great 
goddess  Diana,  whom  not  Asia  only,  but  the  whole 
world  did  worship  and  adore.  Enraged  witli  this 
discourse,  they  cried  out  with  one  voice,  that 
"Great  was  Diana  of  the  Ephesians."  The 
whole  city  was  presently  in  an  uproar,  and  seizing 
upon  two  of  St.  Paul's  companions,  they  hurried 
them  into  the  theatre,  probably  with  a  design  to 


man,  came  out  and  calmly  told  them,  that  it  was 
sufficiently  known  to  all  the  world,  what  a  mighty 
honor  and  veneration  the  city  of  Ephesus  had  for 
the  great  goddess  Diana,  and  the  famous  image 
which  fell  from  heaven,  that  therefore  there  need- 
ed not  this  stir  to  vindicate  and  assert  it ;  that 
they  had  seized  persons  who  were  not  guilty  either 
of  sacrilege  or  blasphemy  towards  their  goddess  ; 
that  if  Demetrius  and  his  company  had  any  just 
charge  against  them,  the  courts  were  sitting,  and 
they  might  prefer  their  indictment ;  or  if  the  con- 
troversy were  about  any  other  matter,  it  might  be 
referred  to  such  a  proper  judicature  as  the  law 
appoints  for  the  determination  of  such  cases  ;  that 
therefore  they  should  do  well  to  be  quiet,  having 
done  more  already  than  they  could  answer,  if 
called  in  question,  (as  it  is  like  they  would,)  there 
being  no  cause  sufficient  to  justify  that  day's 
riotous  assembly.  With  which  prudent  discourse 
he  appeased  and  dismissed  the  multitude. 

9.  It  was  about  tiiis  time  that  St.  Paul  heard 
of  some  disturbance  in  the  church  at  Corinth, 
hatched  and  fomented  by  a  pack  of  false,  hereti- 
cal teachers,  crept  in  among  them,  who  endeavor- 
ed to  draw  tliem  into  parties  and  factions,  by  per- 
suading one  party  to  be  for  Peter,  another  for  Paul, 
a  third  for  Apollos ;  as  if  the  main  of  religion 
consisted  in  being  of  this  or  that  denomination, 
or  in  a  warm  active  zeal  to  decry  and  oppose  who- 
ever is  not  of  our  narrow  sect.  It  is  a  very  weak 
and  slender  claim,  when  a  man  holds  his  religion 


1  Cor.  XV.         t2  Tim.  iv,  U ;  1  Tim.  i.  20. 


LIVES    OJ^    THE    APOSTLES. 


71 


by  no  better  a  title  than  that  he  has  joined  him- 
self to  this  man's  church,  or  that  man's  congre- 
gation, and  is  zealously  earnest  to  maintain  and 
promote  it ;  to  be  childishly  and  passionately  cla-  \ 
morous  for  one  man's  mode  and  way  of  adminis- 
tration, or  for  some  particular  humor  or  opinion  ; 
as  if  religion  lay  in  nice  and  curious  disputes,  or 
in  separating  from  our  brethren,  and  not  ratiier 
"  in  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost."  By  this  means  schisms  and  factions 
broke  into  the  Corinthian  church,  whereby  many 
wild  and  extravagant  opinions,  and  some  of  them 
such  as  undermined  the  fundamental  articles  of 
Christianity,  were  planted,  and  had  taken  root 
there.  As  the  envious  man  never  fishes  more 
successfully  than  in  troubled  waters.  To  cure 
these  distempers  St.  Paul  (who  had  received  an 
account  of  all  these  by  letters  which  ApoUos  and 
some  others  had  brought  to  him  from  the  church 
of  Corinth)  writes  his  first  epistle  to  them  ;  where- 
in lie  smartly  reproves  them  for  their  schisms  and 
parties,  conjures  them  to  peace  and  unity,  corrects 
those  gross  corruptions  that  were  introduced 
among  them,  and  particularly  resolves  those  many 
cases  and  controversies  wherein  they  had  request- 
ed his  advice  and  council.  Shortly  after  Apollos 
designing  to  go  for  Crete,  by  him  and  Zenas  St. 
Paul  sends  his  epistle  to  Titus,  whom  he  made 
bishop  of  that  island,  and  had  loft  there  for  the 
propagating  of  the  gospel.  Herein  he  fully  in- 
structs him  in  the  execution  of  his  office,  how  to 
carry  himself,  and  what  directions  he  should  give 
others,  to  all  particular  ranks  and  relations  of  men, 
especially  those  wlio  were  to  be  advanced  to 
places  of  office  and  authority  in  the  church. 

10.  A  little  before  St.  Paul's  departure  from 
Ephesus,  we  may  not  improbably  suppose,  that 
Apollonius  Tyaneus,  the  famous  philosopher  and 
magician  of  the  heathen  world,  (a  man  remarka- 
ble for  the  strictness  of  his  manners,  and  his  sober 
and  regular  course  of  life,  but  especially  for  the 
great  miracles  said  to  have  been  done  by  him  ; 
whom  therefore  the  heathens  generally  set  up  as 
the  great  co-rival  of  our  Saviour  :  though  some 
of  his  own  party,  and  particularly  Euphratus*  the 
philosopher,  who  lived  with  him  at  the  same  time 
at  Rome,  accused  him  for  doing  his  strange  feats 
by  magic)  came  to  Ephesus.  The  enemy  of 
mankind  probably  designing  to  obstruct  the  pro- 
pagation of  Christianity,  by  setting  up  one  who 
by  the  arts  of  magic  might,  at  least  in  the  vogue 
and  estimation  of  the  people,  equal,  or  echpse  the 
miracles  of  S.  Paul.  Certain  it  is,  if  we  com- 
pare times  and  actions  set  down  by  the  writer  of 


his  life,  we  sliall  find  that  he  came  hither  about 
the  beginning  of  Nero's  reign ;  and  he  particu- 
larly sets  down  the  strange  things  that  were  done 
by  him,  especially  his  clearing  the  city  of  a 
grievous  plague  ;  for  which  the  people  of  Ephe- 
sus had  him  in  such  veneration,  that  they  erected 
a  statue  to  him  as  to  a  particular  deity,  and  did 
divine  honor  to  it.  But  whether  this  was  before 
St.  Paul's  going  thence,  I  will  not  take  upon  me 
to  determine  ;  it  seems  most  propable  to  have 
been  done  afterwards. 


*  Euseb.  lib.  iv.  contra  Hierocl.  p.  530,  ad  calc 
Demonstr.  Evang. 

Lardner  observes  on  a  passage  in  Cudworth, 
which  nearly  agrees  with  the  words  of  our  author, 
that  he  cannot  assent  to  the  opinion  it  conveys, 
though  he  believes  it  to  be  that  of  many  other  learn- 
ed men  :  "  With  due  submission,"  says  he,  "  I  do 
not  think  that  Apollonius  was  a  man  of  so  great 
importance  as  is  here  supposed  ;  for  it  does  not  ap- 
pear that  any  adversaries  of  the  Christians,  either 
Celsus  or  Porphyry,  or  any  other,  before  Hierocles, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century,  under  Dio- 
clesian's  persecution,  ever  took  any  notice  of  him 
in  any  of  their  arguments."— Works,  vol.  viii.  p. 
•261. 

91  (21) 


SECTION  V. 

St.  PauVs  acts,  from  his  departure  from  Ephesus 
till  his  arraignment  before  Felix. 

It  was  not  long  after  the  tumult  at  Ephcsu8,wlien 
St.  Paul  having  called  the  church  together,  and 
constituted  Timothy  bisliop  of  that  place,  took  his 
leave,  and  departed  by  Troas  for  Macedonia.  And 
at  this  time  it  was,  that,  as  he  himself  tells  us,  he 
"  preached  the  gospel  round  about  unto  Iliyri- 
cum,"*  since  called  Sclavonia,  some  parts  of  Ma- 
cedonia bordering  on  that  province.  From  Ma- 
cedonia, he  returned  back  unto  Greece,  where  he 
abode  three  months,  and  met  with  Titus,  lately 
come  with  great  contributions  from  the  church  at 
Corinth.  By  whose  example  he  stirred  up  the 
liberahty  of  the  Macedonians,  who  very  freely, 
and  somewhat  beyond  their  ability,  contributed  to 
the  poor  Christians  at  Jerusalem.  From  Titus  he 
had  an  account  of  the  present  state  of  the  church 
at  Corinth ;  and  by  him  at  his  return,  together 
with  St.  Luke,  he  sent  his  second  epistle  to  them. 
Wherein  he  endeavors  to  set  right  what  his 
former  epistle  had  not  yet  effected ;  to  vindicate 
his  apostleship  from  that  contempt  and  scorn,  and 
himself  fi-om  those  slanders  and  aspersions,  which 
the  seducers,  who  had  found  themselves  lashed  by 
his  first  epistle,  had  cast  upon  him,  together  with 
some  other  particular  cases  relating  to  them. — 
Much  about  the  same  timet  he  writ  his  first  epis- 
tle to  Timothy,  whom  he  had  left  at  Ephesus, 
wherein  at  large  he  counsels  him  how  to  carry 
himself  in  the  discharge  of  that  great  place  and 
authority  in  the  church,  which  he  had  committed 
to  him;  instructs  him  in  the  particular  qualifica- 
tions of  those  whom  he  should  make  choice  of,  to 
be  bishops  and  ministers  in  the  church  ;  how  to 

The  heathen  writer,  Moeragencs,  does  not  simply 
call  him  a  magician,  but  accuses  him  of  practismg 
arts  that  were  infamous  and  diabolical ;  which 
scarcely  agrees  with  our  author's  panegyrical  ex- 
pressions, evidently  founded  on  his  history  by  Phi- 
lostratus;  from  which,  however,  Eusebius  did  by  no 
means  draw  a  similar  conclusion,  for  he  says,  it 
will  of  itself  afford  sufficient  proof  that  Apollonius 
was  so  far  from  deserving  to  be  compared  with  our 
Lord,  that  he  did  not  deserve  to  be  ranked  with  even 
moderately  honest  men. — Ed. 

*  Acts  XX.  I. 

tThat  is,  about  the  year  57;  but  this  date  is 
strongly  objected  to  by  many  critics, who  think  there 
is  sufficient  infernal  evidence  to  prove  that  the  epis- 
tle was  written  subsequently  to  the  apostle's  impri- 
sonment at  Rome  or  as  late  as  the  year  64.— Ed. 


72 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


order  the  deaconesses,  and  to  instruct  servants  ;  } 
warning  him  withal  of  that  pestilent  generation  of  j 
heretics  and  seducers  that  would  arise  in  the 
church.  During  his  three  months'  stay  in  Greece, 
he  went  to  Corinth,  whence  he  wrote  his  famous 
epistle  to  the  Romans,  which  he  sent  by  Phcebe,  a 
deaconess  of  the  church  of  Cenchrea,  nigh  Co- 
nnth ;  wherein  his  main  design  is  fully  to  state 
and  determine  the  great  controversy  between  the 
Jews  and  Gentiles,  about  the  obligation  of  the 
rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  Jewish  law,  and  those 
main  and  material  doctrines  of  Christianity,  which 
did  depend  upon  it,  such  as  of  Christian  liberty, 
the  use  of  indifferent  things,  &c.  And  which  is 
the  main  end  of  all  religion,  instructs  them  in, 
and  presses  them  to  the  duties  of  a  holy  and  good 
life,  such  as  the  Christian  doctrine  does  naturally 
tend  to  oblige  men  to. 

2.  St.  Paul  being  now  resolved  for  Syria,  to 
convey  the  contributions  to  the  brethren  at  Jeru- 
salem, was  awhile  diverted  from  that  resolution, 
by  a  design  he  was  told  of  which  the  Jews  had  to 
kill  and  rob  him  by  the  way.  Whereupon  he  went 
back  into  Macedonia,  and  so  came  to  PhiHppi,  and 
thence  went  to  Troas ;  where  having  stayed  a 
week,  on  the  Lord's-day,  the  church  met  together 
to  receive  the  holy  sacrament.  Here  St.  Paul 
preached  to  them,  and  continued  his  discourse  till 
midnight,  the  longer  probably,  being  the  next  day 
to  depart  from  them.  The  length  of  his  discourse, 
and  the  time  of  the  night,  had  caused  some  of  his 
auditors  to  be  overtaken  with  sleep  and  drowsi- 
ness, among  whom  a  young  man  called  Eutychus 
being  fast  asleep,  fell  down  from  the  third  story, 
and  was  taken  up  dead,  but  whom  St.  Paul  pre- 
sently restored  to  life  and  health.  How  indefatig- 
able was  the  industry  of  our  apostle ;  how  close 
did  he  tread  in  his  master's  steps,  who  "  went 
about  doing  good."  He  compassed  sea  and  land, 
preached  and  wrought  miracles  wherever  he 
came.  In  every  place,  like  a  wise  master-builder 
he  either  laid  a  foundation,  or  raised  the  super- 
structure. He  was  "  instant  in  season  and  out  of 
season,"  and  spared  not  his  pains,  either  night  or 
day,  that  he  might  do  good  to  the  souls  of  men. — 
The  night  being  thus  spent  in  holy  e.xercises,  St. 
Paul  in  the  morning  took  his  leave,  and  went  on 
foot  to  Assos,  a  sea-port  town,  whither  he  had 
sent  his  company  by  sea.  Thence  they  set  sail 
to  Mitylene  ;  from  thence  to  Samos,  and  having 
stayed  some  little  time  at  Trogyllium,  the  next 
day  came  to  Miletus,  not  so  much  as  putting  in  at 
Ephesus,  because  the  apostle  was  resolved,  if 
possible,  to  be  at  Jerusalem  at  the  feast  of  Pente- 
cost. 

3.  At  Miletus  he  sent  to  Ephesus,*  to  summon 
the  bishops  and  governors  of  the  church,  who  be- 
ing come,  he  put  them  in  mind  with  what  upright- 
ness and  integrity,  with  what  affection  and  humi- 
lity, with  how  great  trouble  and  danger,  with  how 
much  faithfubess  to  their  souls  he  had  been  con- 
versant among  thorn,  and  had  preached  the  gospel 
to  them,  ever  since  his  first  coming  into  those 
parts ;  that  he  had  not  failed  to  acquaint  them, 
both  publicly  and  privately,  with  whatever  might 
be  useful  and  profitable  to  them,  urging,  both  upon 
Jews  and  Gentiles,  repentance  and  reformation  of 

♦  Actsxxi.  17. 


life,  and  a  hearty  entertainment  of  the  faith  of 
Christ;  that  now  he  was  resolved  to  go  to  Jeru- 
salem, where  he  did  not  know  what  particular 
sufferings  would  befall  him,  more  than  this,  that  it 
had  been  foretold  him  in  every  place  by  those 
who  were  endued  with  the  prophetical  gifts  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  that  afflictions  and  imprisonment 
would  attend  him  there ;  but  that  he  was  not 
troubled  at  this,  no,  nor  unwilling  to  lay  down  his 
hfe,  so  he  might  but  successfully  preach  the  gos- 
pel, and  faithfully  serve  his  Lord  in  that  place  and 
station  wherein  he  had  set  him ;  that  he  knew 
that  henceforth  they  should  see  his  face  no  more ; 
but  that  this  was  his  encouragement  and  satisfac- 
tion, that  they  themselves  could  bear  him  witness 
that  he  had  not,  by  concealing  from  them  any 
parts  of  the  Christian  doctrine,  betrayed  their 
souls ;  that  as  for  themselves,  whom  God  had 
made  bishops  and  pastors  of  his  church,  they 
should  be  careful  to  feed,  guide,  and  direct  those 
Christians  under  their  inspection,  and  be  infinitely 
tender  of  the  good  of  souls,  for  whose  redemption 
Christ  laid  down  his  own  life  ;  that  all  the  care 
they  could  use  was  no  more  than  necessary,  it 
being  certain,  that  after  his  departure,  heretical 
teachers  would  break  in  among  them,  and  en- 
danger the  ruin  of  men's  souls ;  nay,  that  even 
among  themselves,  there  would  some  arise,  who 
by  subtile  and  crafty  methods,  by  corrupt  and  per- 
nicious doctrines  would  gain  proselytes  to  their 
party,  and  thereby  make  rents  and  schisms  in  the 
church  ;  that  therefore  they  should  watch,  re- 
membering with  what  tears  and  sorrow  he  had, 
for  three  years  together,  warned  them  of  these 
things ;  that  now  he  recommended  them  to  the 
divine  care  and  goodness,  and  to  the  rules  and 
instructions  of  the  gospel,  which  if  adhered  to, 
would  certainly  dispose  and  perfect  them  for  that 
state  of  happiness  which  God  had  prepared  for 
good  men  in  heaven.  In  short,  that  as  he  had 
all  along  dealt  faithfully  and  uprightly  with  them, 
they  might  know  from  hence,  that  in  all  his  preach- 
ing he  had  no  crafty  or  covetous  designs  upon 
any  man's  estate  or  riches ;  having  (as  themselves 
could  witness)  industriously  labored  with  his  own 
hands,  and  by  his  own  work  maintained  both  him- 
self and  his  company ;  herein  leaving  them  an 
example,  what  pains  they  ought  to  take  to  support 
the  wealf,  and  reheve  the  poor,  rather  than  to  be 
themselves  chargeable  unto  others  ;  according  to 
that  incomparable  saying  of  our  Saviour,  (which 
surely  St.  Paul  had  received  from  some  of  those 
that  had  conversed  with  him  in  the  days  of  the 
flesh,)  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 
This  concio  ad  clerum,  or  visitation  sermon  being 
ended,  the  apostle  kneeled  down,  and  concluded 
all  with  prayer.  Which  done,  they  all  melted  into 
tears,  and  with  the  greatest  expressions  of  sorrow 
attended  him  to  the  ship,  though  that  which  made 
the  deepest  impression  upon  their  minds  was,  that 
he  had  told  them,  "that  they  should  see  his  face 
no  more.-' 

4.  Departing  from  Miletus,  they  arrived  at  Cos, 
thence  came  to  Rhodes,  thence  to  Patara,  thence 
to  Tyre  ;*  where  meeting  with  some  Christians, 
he  was  advised  by  those  among  them  who  had 
the  gift  of  prophecy,  that  he  should  not  go  up  to 

♦Actsxxi.  1. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES 


Jerusalem ;  with  them  he  staid  a  week,  and  then 
going  all  together  to  the  shore,  he  kneeled  down 
and  prayed  with  them  ;  and  having  mutually  em- 
braced one  another,  he  went  on  board,  and  came 
to  Ptolemais,  where  only  saluting  the  brethren, 
they  came  next  day  unto  Csesarea.  Here  they 
lodged  in  the  house  of  Philip  the  evangelist,  one 
of  the  seven  deacons  that  were  at  first  set  apart 
by  the  apostles,  who  had  four  virgin  daughters,  all 
endued  with  the  gift  of  prophecy.  During  their 
stay  in  this  place,  Agabus,  a  Christian  prophet, 
came  down  hither  from  Judaea,  who  taking  Paul's 
girdle,  bound  with  it  his  own  hands  and  feet, 
telling  them,  that  by  this  external  symbol  the  Holy 
Giiof^t  did  signify  and  declare,  that  St.  Paul  should 
be  thus  served  by  the  Jews  at  Jerusalem,  and  be 
by  them  delivered  over  into  the  hands  of  the 
Gentiles.  Whereupon  they  all  passionately  be- 
sought him  that  he  would  divert  his  course  to 
some  other  place.  The  apostle  asked  them  what 
they  meant  by  these  compassionate  dissuasives 
to  add  more  affliction  to  his  sorrow  ;  that  he  was 
willing  and  resolved  not  only  to  be  imprisoned  ; 
but,  if  need  were,  to  die  at  Jerusalem  for  the  sake 
of  Christ  and  his  religion.  Finding  his  resolution 
fixed  and  immovable,  they  importuned  him  no 
further,  but  left  the  event  to  the  divine  will  and 
pleasure.  All  things  being  in  readiness,  they  set 
forwards  on  their  journey  ;  and  being  come  to  Je- 
rusalem, were  kindly  and  joyfully  entertained  by 
the  Christians  there. 

5.  The  next  day  after  their  arrival,  St.  Paul  and 
his  company  went  to  the  house  of  St.  James  the 
apostle,  where  the  rest  of  the  bishops  and  gover- 
nors of  the  church  were  met  together  ;*  after  mu- 
tual salutations,  he  gave  them  a  particular  account 
with  what  success  God  had  blessed  him  in  propa- 
gating Christianity  among  the  Gentiles  ;  for  which 
they  all  heartily  blessed  God  ;  but  withal  told  him 
that  he  w^as  now  come  to  a  place  where  there 
were  many  thousands  of  Jewish  converts,  wJio  all 
retained  a  mighty  zeal  and  veneration  for  the  law 
of  Moses ;  and  who  had  been  informed  of  him, 
that  he  taught  the  Jews,  whom  he  had  converted 
in  every  place,  to  renounce  circumcision  and  the 
ceremonies  of  the  law  ;  that  as  soon  as  the  multi- 
tude heard  of  his  arrival,  they  would  come  toge- 
ther to  see  how  he  behaved  himself  in  this  mat- 
ter ;  and  therefore  to  prevent  so  much  disturb- 
ance,  it  was  advisable  that,  there  being  four  men 
thero  at  that  time  who  were  to  accomplish  a  vow, 
(probably  not  tlie  Nazarite  vow,  but  some  other, 
which  they  had  made  for  deliverance  from  sick- 
ness, or  some  other  imminent  danger  and  distress, 
for  so  Josephus  tells  usf  they  were  wont  to  do  in 
such  cases,  and  before  they  came  to  offer  the  ac- 
customed sacrifices,  to  abstain  for  some  time  fi-om 
wine,  and  to  shave  their  heads,)  he  should  join 
himself  to  them,  perform  the  usual  rites  and  cere- 
monies with  them,  and  provide  such  sacrifices  for 
them  as  the  law  required  in  that  case ;  and  that, 
in  discharge  of  their  vow,  they  might  shave  their 
heads  ;  whereby  it  would  appear,  that  the  reports 
which  were  spread  concerning  him  were  false  and 
groundless,  and  that  he  himself  did  still  observe 
the  rites  and  orders  of  the  Mosaical  institution  ; 
that  as  for  the  Gentile  converts,  they  required  no 


'  Acts  xxi.  18. 


t  De  Bell,  Jud,  lib.  ii.  c.  15. 


such  observances  at  their  hands,  nor  expected 
any  thing  more  from  them  in  those  indifferent 
matters,  than  what  had  been  before  determined  by 
the  apostolical  synod  in  that  place.  St.  Paul  (who 
in  such  things  was  willing  "  to  become  all  things 
to  all  men,  that  he  might  gain  the  more")  con- 
sented to  the  counsel  which  they  gave  him  ;  and 
taking  the  persons  along  with  him  to  the  temple, 
told  the  priests  that  the  time  of  a  vow  which  they 
had  made  being  now  run  out,  and  having  purified 
themselves,  as  the  nature  of  the  case  required, 
they  were  come  to  make  their  offerings  according 
to  the  law. 

6.  The  seven  days  wherein  those  sacrifices  were 
to  be  offered  being  now  almost  ended,  some  Jews 
that  were  come  from  Asia,  (where,  probably,  they 
had  opposed  St.  Paul,)  now  finding  him  in  tiie 
temple,  began  to  raise  a  tumult  and  uproar  ;  and 
laying  hold  of  him,  called  out  to  the  rest  of  the 
Jews  for  their  assistance  ;  telling  them,  that  this 
was  the  fellow  that  every  where  vented  doctrines 
derogatory  to  the  prerogative  of  the  Jewish  nation, 
destructive  to  the  institutions  of  the  law,  and  to 
the  purity  of  that  place,  which  he  had  profaned  by 
brmging  in  uncircumcised  Greeks  into  it ;  posi- 
tively concluding,  that  because  they  had  seen 
Trophimus,  a  Gentile  convert  of  Ephesus  with 
him  in  the  city,  therefore  he  had  brought  him  also 
into  the  temple.  So  apt  is  malice  to  make  any 
premises  from  whence  it  may  infer  its  own  conclu- 
sion. Hereupon  the  whole  city  was  presently  in 
an  uproar,  and  seizing  upon  him,  they  dragged 
him  out  of  the  temple,  the  doors  being  presently 
shut  against  him.  Nor  had  they  failed  there  to 
put  a  period  to  all  his  troubles,  had  not  Claudius 
Lysias,  commander  of  the  Roman  garrison  in  the 
tower  of  Antonia,  come  in  with  some  soldiers  to 
his  rescue  and  deliverance  ;  and  supposing  him  to 
be  a  more  than  ordinary  malefactor,  commanded 
a  double  chain  to  be  put  upon  him,  though  as  yet 
altogether  ignorant,  either  v/ho  he,  or  what  his 
crime  was,  and  wherein  he  could  receive  little  sa- 
tisfaction from  the  clamorous  multitude,  who  called 
for  nothing  but  his  death,  following  the  cry  with 
such  crowds  and  numbers  that  the  soldiers  were 
forced  to  take  him  into  their  arms,  to  secure  him 
from  the  present  rage  and  violence  of  the  people. 
As  they  were  going  up  into  the  castle,  St.  Paul 
asked  the  governor  whether  he  might  have  the 
liberty  to  speak  to  him,  who  finding  him  to  speak 
Greek,  inquired  of  him  whether  he  was  not  that 
Egyptian  which  a  few  years  before  had  raised  a 
sedition  in  Judaea,  and  headed  a  party  of  four 
thousand  debauched  and  profligate  wretches.  The 
apostle  replied,  that  he  was  a  Jew  of  Tarsus,  a 
freeman  of  a  rich  and  honorable  city,  and  there- 
fore  begged  of  him,  that  he  might  have  leave  to 
speak  to  the  people;  which  the  captain  readily 
granted  :  and  standing  near  the  door  of  the  castle, 
and  making  signs  that  they  would  hold  their  peace, 
he  began  to  address  himself  to  them  in  the  He- 
brew  language  :  which  when  they  heard  they  be- 
came a  little  more  calm  and  quiet,  while  he  did 
coursed  to  them  to  this  effect. 

7.  He  gave  them  an  account  of  himself  from 
his  birth ;  of  his  education  in  his  youth,  of  the 
mighty  zeal  which  he  had  for  the  rites  and  customs 
of  their  religion,  and  with  what  a  passionate  ear- 
nestness he  persecuted  and  put  to  death  all  the 


74 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES, 


Christians  that  he  met  with,  whereof  the  high- 
priest  and  the  Sanhedrim  could  be  sufficient  wit- 
nesses.* He  next  gave  them  an  entire  and  punc- 
tual relation  of  the  way  and  manner  of  his  con- 
version ;  and  how  that  he  had  received  an  imme- 
diate  command  from  God  himself  to  depart  Jeru- 
salem, and  preach  unto  the  Gentiles.  At  this  word 
the  patience  of  the  Jews  could  hold  no  longer,  but 
they  unanimously  cried  out  to  have  him  put  to 
death,  it  not  being  fit  that  such  a  villain  should  live 
upon  the  earth.  And  the  more  to  express  their 
fury,  they  threw  off  their  clothes,  and  cast  dust 
into  the  air,  as  if  they  immediately  designed  to 
stone  him  ;  to  avoid  which  the  captain  of  the  guard 
commanded  him  to  be  brought  within  the  castle, 
and  that  he  should  be  examined  by  whipping,  till 
he  confessed  the  reason  of  so  much  rage  against 
him.  While  the  lictor  was  binding  him  in  order 
to  it,  he  asked  the  centurion  that  stood  by,  whether 
they  could  justify  the  scourging  a  citizen  of  Rome, 
and  that  before  any  sentence  legally  passed  upon 
him  !  This  the  centurion  presently  intimated  to 
the  governor  of  the  castle,  bidding  him  have  a  care 
what  he  did  for  the  prisoner  was  a  Roman. 
Whereat  the  governor  himself  came,  and  asked 
him,  whether  he  was  a  free  denizen  of  Rome ; 
and  being  told  that  he  was,  he  replied,  that  it  was 
a  great  privilege,  a  privilege  which  he  himself  had 
purchased  at  a  considerable  rate.  To  whom  St. 
Paul  answered,  that  it  was  his  birth-right,  and  the 
privilege  of  the  place  where  he  was  born  and  bred.f 
Hereupon  they  gave  over  their  design  of  whipping 
him ;  the  commander  himself  being  a  little  startled, 
that  he  had  bound  and  chained  a  denizen  of 
Rome. 

8.  The  next  day  the  governor  ordered  his  chains 
to  be  knocked  off;  and  that  he  might  thoroughly 
satisfy  himself  in  the  matter,  commanded  the  San- 
hedrim to  meet,  and  brought  down  Paul  before 
them :  were  being  set  before  the  council,  he  told 
them,  that  in  all  passages  of  his  life  he  had  been 
careful  to  act  according  to  the  severest  rules  and 
conscience  of  his  duty.  "  Men  and  brethren,  I 
have  lived  in  all  good  conscience  before  God  until 
this  day."J:  Behold  here  the  great  security  of  a 
good  man,  and  what  invisible  supports  innocency 
affords  under  the  greatest  danger!  With  how 
generous  a  confidence  does  virtue  and  honesty 
guard  the  breast  of  a  good  man !  as  indeed  nothing 
else  can  lay  a  firm  basis  and  foundation  for  satis- 
faction and  tranquillity,  when  any  misery  or  cala- 
mity does  overtake  us.  Religion  and  a  good  con- 
science beget  peace  and  a  heaven  in  the  man's 
bosom,  beyond  the  power  of  the  little  accidents  of 
this  world  to  ruffle  and  discompose.  Whence 
Seneca  compares  the  mind  of  a  wise  and  good 
man  to  the  state  of  the  upper  region,  which  is 
always  serene  and  calm.  The  high-priest  Ananias 
being  offended  at  the  holy  and  ingenuous  freedom 


*  Acts  xxii.  1. 

1  Tarsus,  il  is  supposed,  derived  its  privileg-es 
a  free  Roman  city  from  a  grant  made  by  Julius 
Caesar;  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that 
Paul  owed  his  Roman  cilizenship  to  his  birth  in  this 
place  ;  but  some  learned  men  have  conjectured  that 
he  derived  it  from  his  father,  who  is  thought  to  have 
been  made  free  of  Rome  for  his  services  to  the 
state. — Ed. 

t  Actsxxiii.  1. 


of  our  apostle,  as  if  by  asserting  his  own  inno- 
cency he  had  reproached  the  justice  of  their  tri 
bunal,  commanded  those  that  stood  next  him,  to 
strike  him  in  the  face ;  whereto  the  apostle  tartly 
replied,  that  God  would  smite  him,  hypocrite  as 
he  was,  who  under  a  pretence  of  doing  justice, 
had  illegally  commanded  him  to  be  punished,  be- 
fore the  law  condemned  him  for  a  malefactor. — 
Whereupon  they  that  stood  by  asked  him,  how 
he  durst  thus  affront  so  sacred  and  venerable  a 
person  as  God's  high-priest.  He  calmly  returned 
that  he  did  not  know  (or  own)  Ananias  to  be  a 
high-priest  (of  God's  appointment.)  However, 
being  a  person  in  authority,  it  was  not  lawful  to 
revile  him,  God  himself  having  commanded,  that 
"  no  man  should  speak  evil  of  the  ruler  of  the  peo- 
ple."* The  apostle,  who,  as  he  never  laid  aside 
the  innocency  of  the  dove,  so  knew  how,  when 
occasion  was,  to  make  use  of  the  wisdom  of  the 
serpent ;  perceiving  the  council  to  consist  partly 
of  Sadducees  and  partly  of  Pharisees,  openly  told 
them  that  he  was  a  Pharisee,  and  the  son  of  a 
Pharisee ;  and  that  the  main  thing  he  was  ques- 
tioned for,  was  his  belief  of  a  future  resurrection. 
This  quickly  divided  the  council ;  the  Pharisees 
being  zealous  patrons  of  that  article,  and  the 
Sadducees  as  slifly  denying  that  there  is  either 
angel  (that  is,  of  a  spiritual  and  immortal  nature, 
really  subsisting  of  itself ;  for  otherwise  they  can- 
not be  supposed  to  have  utterly  denied  all  sorts  of 
angels,  seeing  they  owned  the  Pentateuch,where- 
in  there  is  frequent  mention  of  them)  or  spirit,  or 
that  human  souls  do  exist  in  a  separate  state,  and 
consequently  that  there  is  no  resurrection.  Pre- 
sently the  doctors  of  the  law,  who  were  Pharisees, 
stood  up  to  acquit  him,  affirming  he  had  done  no- 
thing amiss  ;  that  it  was  possible  he  had  received 
some  intimation  from  heaven  by  an  angel,  or  the 
revelation  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  if  so,  then  in 
opposing  his  doctrine,  they  might  fight  against 
God  himself. 

9.  Great  were  the  dissentions  in  the  council 
about  this  matter,  insomuch  tliat  the  governor 
fearing  St.  Paul  would  be  torn  in  pieces,  com- 
manded the  soldiers  to  take  him  from  the  bar,  and 
return  him  back  into  the  castle.  That  night,  to 
comfort  him  after  all  his  frights  and  fears,  God 
was  pleased  to  appear  to  him  in  a  vision,  encou- 
raging him  to  constancy  and  resolution,  assuring 
him,  that  as  he  had  borne  witness  to  his  cause  at 
Jerusalem,  so,  in  despite  of  all  his  enemies,  he 
should  live  to  bear  his  testimony  even  at  Rome 
itself.     The  next  morning  the  Jews,  who  could 


*  It  is  plain  from  the  general  tendency  of  Paul's 
doctrine  and  behavior,  that  if  he  refused  to  own 
Ananias  as  high-priest,  he  did  so  not  from  his  own 
private  opinions  of  his  demerits,  but  from  the  cer- 
tainty that  the  law  was  against 'his  holding  that 
office ;  and  it  is  scarcely  to  be  believed,  that  if  he 
thus  solemnly  disputed  his  authority  he  would  have 
so  suddenly  softened  his  rebuke.  The  more  pro- 
bable supposition  is,  that  Paul's  long  absence  from 
Jerusalem,  the  changes  which  had  taken  place  in 
the  high  offices  of  the  nation,  together  with  the 
confusion  that  prevailed  in  the  assembly  described, 
did  really  prevent  him  from  knowing  the  person  of 
the  high-priest,  who  it  is  to  be  remenibered  was  not 
clad  as  if  he  had  been  ministering  in  the  temple- 
En, 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES, 


76 


as  well  cease  to  be  as  to  be  miscliievous  and  ma- 
licious, finding  that  these  dilatory  proceedings 
were  not  like  to  do  the  work,  resolved  upon  a 
quicker  despatch.  To  which  end  above  forty  of 
them  entered  into  a  wicked  confederacy,  which 
they  ratified  by  oath  and  execration,  never  to  eat 
or  drink  till  they  had  killed  him  ;  and  having  ac- 
quainted the  Sanhedrim  with  their  design,  they 
entreated  tliem  to  importune  the  governor,  that 
he  miglit  again,  the  next  day,  be  brougiit  down 
before  them,  under  pretence  of  a  more  strict  trial 
of  his  case,  and  that  they  themselves  would  lie  in 
ambush  by  the  way,  and  not  fail  to  despatch  him. 
But  that  "Divine  Providence  which  peculiarly  su- 
perintends tlie  safety  of  good  men,  "  disappoints 
the  devices  of  the  crafty."  The  design  was  dis- 
covered to  St.  Paul  by  a  nephew  of  his,  and  by 
iiim  imparted  to  the  governor,  who  immediately 
commanded  two  parties  of  foot  and  horse  to  be 
ready  by  nine  of  the  clock  that  night,  and  provision 
to  be  made  for  St.  Paul's  carriage  to  Felix,  the 
Roman  governor  of  that  province  :  to  whom  also 
lie  wrote,  signifying  whom  he  had  sent,  how  the 
Jews  had  used  him  ;  and  that  his  enemies  also 
should  appear  before  him  to  manage  the  charge 
and  accusation.  Accordingly  he  was,  by  night, 
conducted  to  Antipatris,  and  afterwards  to  Caesa- 
rea,  where  the  letters  being  delivered  to  Felix, 
the  apostle  was  presented  to  him  ;  and  finding 
that  lie  belonged  to  the  province  of  Cilicia,  he 
told  Iiim,  that  as  soon  as  his  accusers  were  arrived 
he  should  have  a  hearing ;  commanding  him  in 
the  mean  time  to  be  secured  in  the  place  called 
Herod'.s  Hall. 


SECTION  VI. 

Of  Si.  Paul,  from  his  first  trial  before  Felix  till 
his  coming  to  Rome. 

Not  many  days  after,  down  comes  Ananias*  the 
high-priest,  with  some  others  of  the  Sanhedrim,  to 
CiBsarea,  accompanied  with  Tertullus,  their  advo- 
cate, who,  in  a  siiort,  but  neat  speech,  set  off 
with  all  the  flattering  and  insinuative  arts  of  elo 
quence,  began  to  implead  our  apostle,  charging 
liim  witli  sedition,  heresy,  and  the  profanation  of 
the  temple,  and  adding,  that  they  would  have  saved 
the  governor  the  trouble  of  this  hearing,  by  judging 
him  according  to  their  own  law,  had  not  Lysias 
the  commander  violently  taken  him  from  them, 
and  sent  both  him  and  them  down  thither.  To 
all  which  the  Jews  that  were  with  him  gave  in 
their  vote  and  testimony.  St.  Paul  having  leave 
from  Felix  to  defend  himself;  and  having  told 
him  how  much  he  was  satisfied  in  having  to  plead 
before  one  who,  for  so  many  years  had  been  go- 
vernor of  that  nation,  distinctly  answered  to  the 
several  parts  of  the  charge. 

2.  And  first,  for  sedition :  he  point-blank  de- 
nied it,  affirming  that  they  found  him  behaving 
himself  quietly  and  peaceably  in  the  temple,  not 
eo  much  as  disputing  there,  nor  stiring  up  the 
people  either  in  the  synagogues,  or  any  other  place 
of  the  city.     And  though  this  was  plausibly  pre- 


Acts  xxiv. 


tended  by  them,  yet  were  they  never  able  to  make 
it  good.  As  for  the  charge  of  heresy,  that  he  was 
a  ring-leader  of  the  sect  of  the  Nazarenes,  he  in- 
genuously acknowledged  that  after  the  way  which 
they  counted  heresy,  so  he  worshipped  God  ;  the 
same  way  in  su-bstance  wherein  all  tlie  patriarchs 
of  the  Jewish  nation  had  worshipped  God  before 
him,  taking  nothing  into  liis  creed,  but  what  tiio 
authentic  writers  of  tlie  Jews  themselves  did  own 
and  justify  ;  that  he  firmly  believed  what  the  bet- 
ter of  themselves  were  ready  to  grant,  another 
life,  and  a  future  resurrection  ;  in  the  hope  and 
expectation  whereof  he  was  careful  to  live  un- 
blamable, and  conscientiously  to  do  his  duty  both 
to  God  and  men.  As  for  the  third  part  of  the 
charge,  his  profaning  of  the  temple,  he  siiovvs  how 
little  foundation  there  was  for  it  ;  that  the  design 
of  his  coming  to  Jerusalem  was  to  bring  charitable 
contributions  to  his  distressed  brethren  ;  that  ho 
was  indeed  in  the  temple,  but  not  as  some  Asiatic 
Jews  falsely  suggested,  either  with  tumult  or  with 
multitude  ;  but  only  purifying  himself  according 
to  the  rites  and  customs  of  the  Mosaic  law  ;  and 
that  if  any  would  affirm  the  contrary,  they  should 
now  come  into  open  court  and  make  it  good. — 
Nay,  that  he  appealed  to  those  of  the  Sanhedrim 
that  were  there  present,  whether  he  had  not  been 
acquitted  by  their  own  great  council  at  Jerusalem, 
where  nothing  of  moment  had  been  laid  to  his 
charge,  except  by  them  of  the  Sadducean  party, 
who  quarrelled  with  him  only  for  asserting  the 
doctrine  of  the  resurrection.  Felix  having  thus 
heard  both  parties  argue,  refused  to  make  any 
final  determination  in  the  case,  till  he  had  more 
fully  advised  about  it,  and  spoken  witJi  Lysias, 
commander  of  the  garrison,  who  was  best  able 
to  give  an  account  of  the  sedition  and  the  tumult ; 
commanding,  in  the  mean  time,  that  St.  Paul 
should  be  under  guard  ;  but  yet  in  so  free  a  custo- 
dy that  none  of  his  friends  should  be  hindered  from 
visiting  him,  or  performing  any  office  of  kindness 
and  friendship  to  him. 

3.  It  was  not  long  after  this  before  his  wife, 
Drusilla,  (a  Jewess,  daughter  of  the  elder  Herod  ; 
and  whom  Tacitus,  I  fear  by  a  mistake  for  his  for- 
mer wife,  Drusilla,  daughter  to  Juba,  king  of  Mau- 
ritania, makes  niece  to  Anthony  and  Cleopatra,) 
came  to  him  to  C?eearea.  Who  being  present, 
he  sent  for  St.  Paul  to  appear  before  them,  and 
gave  him  leave  to  discourse  concerning  the  doc- 
trine of  Christianity.  In  his  discourse  he  took  oc- 
casion particularly 'to  insist  upon  the  great  obliga- 
tion which  the  laws  of  Christ  lay  upon  men  to 
justice  and  righteousness  toward  one  another,  to 
sobriety  and  cliastity  both  towards  themselves  and 
others  ;  withal  urging  that  severe  and  impartial 
account  that  must  be  given  in  the  judgment  of  the 
other  world,  wherein  men  shall  be  arraigned  for 
all  the  actions  of  their  past  life,  and  be  eternally 
punished  or  rewarded  according  to  their  works. 
A  discourse  wisely  adapted  by  the  apostle  to  Fe- 
lix's state  and  temper.  But  corrosives  are  very 
uneasy  to  a  gudty  mind  :  men  naturally  hate  that 
which  "  brings  their  sins  to  their  remembrance," 
and  sharpens  the  sting  of  a  violated  conscience. 
The  prince  was  so  nettled  with  the  apostle's  rea- 
sonings, that  he  fell  a  trembling,  and  caused  the 
apostle  to  break  off  abruptly,  telling  him,  he  would 
i  hear  the  rest  at  some  other  season.     And  good 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


reason  there  was  that  Felix's  conscience  should 
be  sensibly  alarmed  with  these  reflections,  being 
a  man  notoriously  infamous  for  rapine  and  vio- 
lence. Tacitus  tells  us  of  him,  that  he  made  his 
will  the  law  of  his  government,  practising  all  man- 
ner of  cruelty  and  injustice.  And  then  for  incon- 
tinency,  he  was  given  over  to  luxury  and  debauch- 
ery ;  for  the  compassing  whereof  he  scrupled 
not  to  violate  all  laws  both  of  God  and  man. — 
Whereof  this  very  wife  Drusilla  was  a  famous 
instance.*  For,  being  married  by  her  brother,  to 
AziF,  king  of  the  Emisenes,  Felix,  who  had  heard 
of  her  incomparable  beauty,  by  the  help  of  Simon 
the  magician,  a  Jew  of  Cyprus,  ravished  her  from 
her  husband's  bed  ;  and  in  defiance  of  all  law  and 
right,  kept  her  for  his  own  wife.f  To  these  quali- 
ties he  had  added  bribery  and  covetousness  ;  and 
therefore  frequently  sent  for  St.  Paul  to  discourse 
with  him,  expecting  that  lie  should  have  given  him 
a  considerable  sum  for  his  release  ;  and  the  rather 
probably,  because  iie  had  heard  that  St.  Paul  had 
lately  brought  up  great  sums  of  money  to  Jeru- 
salem. But  finding  no  ofJers  made,  either  by  the 
apostle  or  his  friends,  he  kept  him  prisoner  for  two 
years  together,  so  long  as  himself  continued  pro- 
curator of  that  nation  ;  when  being  displaced  by 
Nero,  he  left  St.  Paul  still  in  prison,  on  purpose  to 
gratify  the  Jews,  and  engage  them  to  speak  better 
of  him  after  his  departure  from  them. 

4.  To  him  succeeded  Pontius  Festus,J  in  the  pro- 
curatorship  of  the  province ;  at  whose  first  coming 
to  Jerusalem,  the  high-priest  and  Sanhedrim  pre- 
sently began  to  prefer  to  him  an  indictment  against 
St.  Paul,  desiring,  that  in  order  to  liis  trial,  he 
might  be  sent  for  up  from  Ceesarea  ;  designing, 
this  pretence,  that  assassins  should  lie  in  the  way 
to  murder  him.  Festus  told  them,  that  he  him- 
self was  going  shortly  for  Csesarea,  and  that  if 
they  had  any  thing  against  St.  Paul,  they  should 
come  down  thither  and  accuse  him.  Accordingly, 
being  come  to  Csesarea,  and  setting  in  open  judi- 
cature, the  Jews  began  to  renew  the  charge  which 
they  had  heretofore  brought  against  St.  Paul ;  of 
all  which  he  cleared  himself,  they  not  being  able  to 
make  any  proof  against  him.  However,  Festus 
being  willing  to  oblige  the  Jews  in  the  entrance 
upon  his  government,  asked  him  whether  he  would 
go  up  and  be  tried  before  him  at  Jerusalem.  The 
apostle,  well  understanding  the  consequences  of 
that  proposal,  told  him  that  he  was  a  Roman,  and 
therefore  ought  to  be  judged  by  their  laws  ;  that  he 
stood  now  at  Caesar's  own  judgment-seat,  (as  in- 
deed what  was  done  by  the  emperor's  procurator 
in  any  province,  the  law  reckoned  as  done  by  the 
emperor  himself,)  and  though  he  should  submit  to 


•  Joseph.  Antiquit.  Jud.  lib.  xx.  c.  5,  p.  C93. 

tThis  Drusilla  was  the  youngest  daughter  of 
Herod  Agiippa,  and  had  been  originally  betrothed 
to  Epiphanes,  the  son  of  Antiochus;  but  this  con- 
tract was  broken,  Epiphanes  refusing  to  submit,  as 
he  had  promised,  to  the  rile  of  circumcision.  Jose- 
ph us  stales  a.^  above  related,  that  she  was  enticed 
from  Azizns  by  the  artful  persuasions  of  Simon,  the 
creature  of  Felix;  but  adds  the  important  circum- 
stance, that  her  chief  motive  for  yielding  was  to 
avoid  the  envy  and  evil  machinations  of  her  sister, 
Bernice,  who  hated  her  because  of  the  admiration 
she  excited  by  her  beauty. — Ed. 

t  Acts  XXV.  1. 


the  Jewish  tribunal,  yet  he  himself  saw  that  they 
had  nothing  which  they  could  prove  against  him ; 
that  if  he  had  done  any  thing  which  really  deserved 
capital  punishment,  he  was  willing  to  undergo  it ; 
but  if  not,  he  ought  not  to  be  delivered  over  to  his 
enemies,  who  were  before-hand  resolved  to  take 
away  his  life.  However,  as  the  safest  course,  he 
solemnly  made  his  appeal  to  the  Roman  emperor, 
who  should  judge  between  them.*  Whereupon 
Festus  advising  with  the  Jewish  Sanhedrim,  re- 
ceived his  appeal,  and  told  him  he  should  go  to 
Csesar.  This  way  of  appealing  was  frequent 
among  the  Romans,  introduced  to  defend  and  se- 
cure the  lives  and  fortunes  of  the  populacy  from 
the  unjust  encroachments,  and  over-rigorous  se- 
verities of  the  magistrates ;  whereby  it  was  lawful 
in  cases  of  oppression  to  appeal  to  the  people  for 
redress  and  rescue,  a  thing  more  than  once  and 
again  settled  by  the  sanction  of  the  Valerian  laws. 
These  appeals  were  wont  to  be  made  in  writing, 
by  appellatory  libels  given  in,  wherein  was  con- 
tained an  account  of  the  appellant ;  the  person 
against  whom,  and  from  whose  sentence  he  did 
appeal.  But  where  the  case  was  done  in  open 
court,  it  was  enough  for  the  criminal  verbally  to 
declare  that  he  did  appeal :  in  great  and  weighty 
cases  appeals  were  made  to  the  prince  himself, 
and  that  not  only  at  Rome  ;  but  in  the  provinces 
of  the  empire,  all  proconsuls  and  governors  of  pro- 
vinces being  strictly  forbidden  to  execute,  scourge, 
bind,  or  put  any  badge  of  servility  upon  a  citizen, 
or  any  that  had  the  privilege  of  a  citizen  of  Rome, 
who  had  made  his  appeal ;  or  any  ways  to  hinder 
him  from  going  thither,  to  obtain  justice  at  the 
hands  of  the  emperor,  who  had  as  much  regard 
to  the  liberty  of  his  subjects  (says  the  law  itself) 
as  they  could  have  of  good-will  and  obedience 
to  him.  And  this  was  exactly  St.  Paul's  case, 
who  knowing  that  he  should  have  no  fair  and 
equitable  dealing  at  the  hands  of  the  governor, 
when  once  he  came  to  be  swayed  by  the  Jews, 
his  sworn  and  inveterate  enemies,  appealed  from 
him  to  the  emperor  ;  the  reason  why  Festus  durst 
not  deny  his  demand,  it  being  a  privilege  so  often, 
so  plainly  settled  and  confirmed  by  the  Roman 
laws. 

5.  Some  time  after  king  Agrippa,  who  succeed- 
ed Herod  in  the  tetrarchate  of  Galilee,  and  his 
sister  Bernice  came  to  Csesarea,  to  make  a  visit 
to  the  new  come  governor.  To  him  Festus  gave 
an  account  of  St.  Paul,  and  the  great  stir  and 
trouble  that  had  been  made  about  him  ;  and  how 
for  his  safety  and  vindication  he  had  immediately 
appealed  to  Caesar.  Agrippa  was  very  desirous 
to  see  and  hear  him,  and  accordingly  the  next 
day  the  king  and  his  sister,  accompanied  with 
Festus  the  governor,  and  other  persons  of  quality, 
came  into  the  court  with  a  pompous  and  magni- 

*  It  is  not  unworthy  of  observation,  that  the  apos- 
tle of  the  Gentiles  thus  appealed  for  justice  to  a  tri- 
bunal, and  a  system  of  laws,  acknowledged  by  the 
world  at  large.  The  legal  institutions  of  his  own 
nation  were  mingled  with  precepts,  on  which  cor- 
rupt interpreters  had  founded  arguments  destructive 
of  the  universality  of  its  moral  equity.  But  he  was 
the  first  of  his  people,  the  first  pre-eminently  of 
Christ's  disciples,  who  declared,  by  a  species  of  pro- 
vidential influence,  that  the  civil  institutions  of  Is- 
rael had  lost  all  power  and  authority. — Ed. 


LIVES    OP^    THE    APOSTLES. 


77 


ficent  retinue,  where  the  prisoner  was  brought 
forth  before  him.  Festus  having  acquainted  the 
king  and  the  assembly,  how  much  he  had  been 
sohcited  by  the  Jews,  both  at  Csesarea  and  Jeru- 
salem, concerning  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  that  as 
a  notorious  malefactor  he  might  be  put  to  death  ; 
but  that  having  found  him  guilty  of  no  capital 
crime,  and  the  prisoner  himself  having  appealed 
to  Caesar,  he  was  resolved  to  send  him  to  Rome  ; 
but  yet  was  willing  to  have  his  case  again  dis- 
cussed before  Agrippa,  that  so  he  might  be  fur- 
nished with  some  material  instructions  to  send 
along  with  him,  since  it  was  very  absurd  to  send 
a  prisoner,  without  signifying  what  crimes  were 
charged  upon  him. 

6.  Hereupon  Agrippa  told  the  apostie,  he  had 
liberty  to  make  his  own  defence  :*  to  whom,  after 
sUence  made,  he  particularly  addressed  his  speech. 
He  tells  him,  in  the  first  place,  what  a  happiness 
he  had,  that  he  was  to  plead  before  one  so  exactly 
versed  in  all  the  rites  and  customs,  the  questions 
and  the  controversies  of  the  Jewish  law  ;  that  the 
Jews  themselves  knew  what  had  been  the  course 
and  mamier  of  his  life,  how  he  had  been  educated 
under  the  institutions  of  the  Pharisees,  the  strict- 
est sect  of  the  whole  Jewish  religion,  and  had  been 
particularly  disquieted  and  arraigned  for  what  had 
been  the  constant  belief  of  all  their  fathers,  what 
was  sufficiently  credible  in  itself,  and  plainly 
enough  revealed  in  the  Scripture,  the  resurrection 
of  the  dead.  He  next  gave  him  an  account  with 
what  a  bitter  and  implacable  zeal  ho  had  formerly 
persecuted  Christianity  ;  told  him  the  whole  story 
and  method  of  his  conversion,  and  that,  in  com- 
pliance with  a  particular  vision  from  heaven,  he 
had  preached  repentance  and  reformation  of  life 
first  to  the  Jews,  and  then  after  to  the  Gentiles  ; 
that  it  was  for  no  other  things  than  these  that  the 
Jews  apprehended  him  in  the  temple,  and  design- 
ed to  murder  him  ;  but  being  rescued  and  upheld 
by  a  divine  power,  he  continued  in  this  testimony 
to  this  day,  asserting  nothing  but  what  was  per- 
fectly agreeable  to  Moses  and  the  prophets,  who 
had  plainly  foretold  that  the  Messiaii  should  be 
put  to  death  and  rise  again,  and  by  his  doctrine 
enlighten  both  the  Jewish  and  the  GentOe  world. 
While  he  was  thus  discoursing,  Festus  openly 
cried  out,  that  he  talked  like  a  madman,t  that  his 
overmuch  study  had  put  him  beside  himself.  The 
apostle  calmly  replied,  that  he  was  far  from  being 
transported  with  idle  and  distracted  humors,  that 
he  spake  nothing  but  what  was  most  true  and  real 
in  itself,  and  wliat  very  well  became  that  grave, 
sober  auditory.  And  then,  again  addressing  him- 
self to  Agrippa,  told  him,  that  these  things  having 
been  open  and  public,  he  could  not  but  be  acquaint- 
ed with  them  ;  that  he  was  confident  that  he  be- 
lieved the  prophets,  and  must  needs  therefore 
know  that  those  prophecies  were  fulfilled  in  Christ. 

•  Acts  xxvi.  I. 

t  The  exclamation  of  Festus  afforded  a  sinsfular 
testimony  to  the  merits  and  ability  of  the  apostle. 
It  was  evidently  forced  from  him  by  impatience  and 
astonishment;  but  it  served  to  cut  the  knot  which 
his  doubts  and  the  difficulty  of  ihe  case  had  sudden- 
ly created.  Paul's  politic  conduct  in  appealing  to 
Caesar,  was  a  sufficient  proof  of  his  coolness  and 
prudence,  as  well  as  sanity. — Ed. 


Hereat  Agrippa  replied,  that  he  had  almost  per- 
suaded him  to  embrace  the  Christian  faith  ;  to 
which  the  apostle  returned,  that  he  heartily  prayed 
that  not  only  he  but  the  whole  auditory  were,  not 
only  in  some  measure,  but  altogether,  though  not 
prisoners,  yet  as  much  Christians  as  he  himself 
was.  This  done,  the  king,  and  the  governor,  and 
the  rest  of  the  council  withdrew  awhile,  to  confer 
privately  about  this  matter  ;  and  finding,  by  the 
accusations  brought  ag.iinst  him,  that  he  was  not 
guilty  by  the  Roman  laws  of  any  capital  offence, 
no,  nor  of  any  that  deserved  so  much  as  imprison- 
ment, Agrippa  told  Festus  that  lie  might  have 
been  released  if  he  had  not  appealed  unto  Caesar ; 
for  the  appeal  being  once  made,  the  judge  had 
then  no  power  either  to  absolve  or  condemn, 
the  cause  being  entirely  reserved  to  the  cogniz- 
ance of  that  superior  to  whom  the  criminal  had 
appealed. 

7.  It  was  now  finally  resolved  that  St.  Paul 
should  be  sent  to  Rome  ;*  in  order  whereunto  he 
was,  with  some  other  prisoners  of  note,  commit- 
ted to  the  charge  of  Julius,  commander  of  a  com- 
pany belonging  to  the  legion  of  Augustus.  Ac- 
companied by  St.  Luke,  Aristarchus,  Trophimus, 
and  some  others,  in  September,  ann.  Chr.  56,  or 
as  others,  57,  he  went  on  board  a  ship  of  Adra- 
myttium,  and  sailed  to  Sidon,  where  the  captain 
civilly  gave  the  apostle  leave  to  go  ashore,  to  visit 
his  friends  and  refresh  himself:  thence  to  Cyprus, 
till  they  came  to  the  Fair-Havens,  a  place  near 
Myra,  a  city  of  Lycia.  Here,  winter  growmg  on 
and  St.  Paul  foreseeing  it  would  be  a  dangerous 
voyage,  persuaded  them  to  put  in  and  winter. 
But  the  captain  preferring  tiie  judgment  of  the 
master  of  the  ship,  and  especially  because  of  the 
incommodiousness  of  the  harbor,  resolved,  if  pos- 
sible, to  reach  Phoenice,  a  part  of  Crete,  and  to 
winter  there.  But  it  was  not  long  before  they 
found  themselves  disappointed  of  their  hopes  ;  for 
the  calm  southerly  gale  that  blew  before,  suddenly 
changed  into  a  stormy  and  blustering  north-east 
wind,  which  so  bore  down  all  before  it,  that  they 
were  forced  to  let  the  ship  drive  at  the  pleasure  of 
the  wind ;  but  as  much  as  might  be,  to  prevent 
splitting  or  running  aground,  they  threw  out  a 
great  part  of  their  lading  and  the  tackle  of  the 
ship.  Fourteen  days  they  remained  in  this  despe- 
rate and  uncomfortable  condition,  neither  sun  nor 
stars  appearing  for  a  great  part  of  the  time  :  the 
apostle  putting  them  in  mind  how  ill  advised  they 
were  in  not  taking  his  counsel ;  howbeit  they  should 
be  of  good  cheer,  for  that  that  God  whom  he  serv- 
ed and  worshipped,  had  the  last  night  purposely 
sent  an  angel  from  heaven,  to  lot  him  know,  that 
notwithstanding  the  present  danger  they  were  in, 
yet  that  he  should  be  brought  safe  before  Nero ; 
that  they  should  be  shipwrecked  indeed,  and  cast 
upon  an  island  ;  but  that  for  his  sake  God  had 
spared  all  in  the  ship,  not  one  whereof  should 
perish  ;  and  that  ho  did  not  doubt  but  that  it 
would  accordingly  come  to  pass.  On  the  four- 
teenth night,  upon  sounding,  they  found  them- 
selves nigh  some  coast ;  and  therefore,  to  avoid 
rocks,  thought  good  to  come  to  an  anchor,  till  the 
morning  might  give  them  better  information.  In 
the  mean  time  the  seamen  (who  best  understood 


Acts  xivii.  1. 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES 


the  danger)  were  preparing  to  get  into  the  skiff; 
to  save  themselves  ;  wliich  St.  Paul  espying,  told 
the  captain,  that  unless  they  all  staid  m  the  ship 
none  could  be  safe  ;  whereupon  the  soldiers  cut : 
the  ropes,  and  let  the  skiff  fall  off  into  the  sea.  | 
Between  this  and  day-break,  the  apostle  advised 
them  to  eat  and  refresh  themselves,  having  all  this 
time  kept  no  ordinary  and  regular  meals,  assuring 
tiiem  they  should  all  escape  ;  himself  first  taking 
bread,  and  having  blessed  God  for  it  before  them 
all,  the  rest  followed  his  example,  and  cheerfully 
fell  to  their  meat ;  which  done,  they  hghtened  the 
ship  of  what  remained,  and  endeavored  to  put 
into  a  creek,  which  they  discovered  not  far  off ; 
but  falling  into  a  place  where  two  seas  met,  the 
forepart  of  the  ship  ran  aground,  whUe  the  hinder- 
part  was  beaten  in  pieces  with  the  violence  of  the 
waves.  Awakened  with  the  danger  they  were 
in,  the  soldiers  cried  out  to  kill  the  prisoners  to 
prevent  their  escape  ;  which  the  captain,  desirous 
to  save  St.  Paul,  and  probably  in  confidence  of 
what  he  had  told  them,  refused  to  do  ;  command- 
ing, that  every  one  should  shift  for  himself :  the 
issue  was,  that  part  by  swimming,  part  on  planks, 
part  on  pieces  of  the  broken  ship,  they  all,  to 
the  number  of  two  hundred  threescore  and  six- 
teen, (the  whole  number  in  the  ship,)  got  safe  to 
shore. 

8.  The  island  upon  which  they  were  cast  was 
Melita,*  (now  Malta,)  situate  in  the  Libyan  sea, 
between  Syracuse  and  Africa.     Here  they  found 
civility  among  barbarians,  and  the  plain  acknow- 
ledgments of  a  divine  justice  written  umong  the 
naked  and  untutored  notions  of  nien's  minds.  The 
people  treated  them  with  great  humanity,  enter- 
taining them  with  all  necessary  accommodations  ; 
but  while  St.  Paul  was  throwing  sticks  upon  the 
fire,  a  viper  dislodged  by  the  heat,  came  out  of  the 
wood,  and  fastened  on  his  hand.     This  the  people 
no  sooner  espied,  but  presently  concluded,  that 
surely  he  was  some  notorious  murderer,  whom 
though  the  divine  vengeance  had  suffered  to  escape 
the  hue-and-cry  of  the  sea,  yet  had  only  reserved 
him  for  a  more  public  and  solemn  execution.     But 
when  they  saw  him  shake  it  off  into  the  fire,  and 
not  presently  swell,  and  drop  down,  they  changed 
their  opinions,  and  concluded  him  to  be  some  god. 
So  easily  are  light  and  credulous  minds  transported 
from  one  extreme  to  another.     Not  far  off  lived 
Publius,  a  man  of  great  estate  and  authority,  and 
(as  we  may  probably  guess  from  an  inscription 
found  there,  and  set  down  by  Grotius,  wherein 
the  npnTOS  MEAiTAisiN  is  reckoned  amongst  the 
Roman  officers)  governor  of  the  island  :  by  him 
they  were  courteously  entertained  three  days  at 
his  own  charge  ;  and  his  father  lying  at  that  time 
sick  of  a  fever  and  a  dysentery,  St.  Paul  went  in, 
and  having  prayed,  and  laid  his  hands  upon  him, 
healed  him  ;  as  he  did  also  many  of  the  inhabi- 
tants, who  by  this  miracle  were  encouraged  to  bring 
their  diseased  to  liim;  whereby  great  honors  were 
heaped  upon  him,  and  both  he  and  his  company 
furnished  with  provisions  necessary  for  the  rest  of 
their  voyage.     Nay,  Publius  himself  is  said,  by 
some,   to  have   been   hereby   converted   to   the 
faith,  and  by  St.  Paul  to  have  been  constituted 
bishop  of  the  island  ;  and  that  this  was  he  that 

♦  Aclsxxviii.  1. 


succeeded  St.  Denis,  the  Areopagite,  in  the  sec 
of  Athens,  and  was  afterwards  crowned  with 
martyrdom. 

9.  After  three  months  stay  hi  this  island,  they 
went  on  board  the  Castor  and  Pollux,  a  ship  ot 
Alexandria,  bound  for  Italy.  At  Syracuse  ihey 
put  in,  and  stayed  three  days  ;  thence  sailed  to 
Rhegium,  and  so  to  Putcoli ;  where  they  lanaed 
and  finding  some  Christians  there,  staid  a  week 
with  them,  and  then  set  forward  in  their  journey  to 
Rome.  The  Christians  at  Rome  liaving  heard  ot 
their  arrival,  several  of  them  came  part  of  the  way 
to  meet  them,  some  as  far  as  the  Three  Taverns, 
a  place  thirty-three  miles  from  Rome,  others  as 
far  as  Appii  Forum,  fifty-one  miles  distant  thence. 
Great  was  their  mutual  salutation,  and  the  en- 
couragement which  the  apostle  received  by  it; 
glad,  no  doubt,  to  see  that  Christians  found  so 
much  hberty  at  Rome.  By  them  he  was  con- 
ducted in  a  kind  of  triumph  into  the  city  ;  where, 
when  they  were  arrived,  the  rest  of  the  prisoners 
were  delivered  over  to  the  captain  of  the  guard, 
and  by  him  disposed  in  the  common  jail,  while 
St.  Paul  (probably  at  Juha's  request  and  recom- 
mendation) was  permitted  to  stay  in  a  private 
house,  only  with  a  soldier  to  secure  and  guard 
him. 


SECTION  VII. 

St.  Paul's  acts,  from  his  coming  to  Rome  till  his 
martyrdom. 

The  first  thing  St.  Paul  did  after  he  came  to  Rome, 
was  to  summon  the  heads  of  the  Jewish  consistory 
there,  whom  he  acquainted  with  the  cause  and 
manner  of  his  coming ;  that  though  he  had  been 
guilty  of  no  violation  of  the  law  of  their  religion, 
yet  had  he  been  delivered  by  the  Jews  into  the 
hands  of  the  Roman  governors  ;  who  would  have 
acquitted  him  once  and  again,  as  innocent  of  any 
capital  offence,  but  by  the  perverseness  of  the  Jews 
he  was  forced,  not  with  an  intention  to  charge  his 
own  nation,  (already  sufficiently  odious  to  the  Ro- 
mans,) but  only  to  vindicate  and  clear  himself,  to 
make  his  appeal  to  CsBsar ;  that  being  come,  he  had 
sent  for  them,  to  let  them  know  that  it  was  for  his 
constant  asserting  the  resurrection,  the  hope  of 
all  true  Israelites,  that  he  was  bound  with  that 
chain  which  they  saw  upon  him.  The  Jews  re- 
plied, that  they  had  received  no  advice  concern- 
ing him,  nor  had  any  of  the  nation  that  came  from 
Judffia,  brought  any  charge  against  him  :  only  for 
the  religion  which  he  had  espoused,  they  desired 
to  be  a  little  better  informed  about  it,  it  being 
every  where  decried,  both  by  Jew  and  Gentile. 
Accordingly,  upon  a  day  appointed,  he  discoursed 
to  them  from  morning  to  night,  concerning  the 
religion  and  doctrine  of  the  holy  Jesus,  proving 
from  the  promises  and  predictions  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, that  he  was  the  true  Messiah.  His  dis- 
j  course  succeeded  not  with  all  alike,  some  being 
J  convinced,  others  persisted  in  their  infidelity  ;  and 
:  as  they  were  departing  in  some  discontent  at  each 
',  other,  the  apostle  told  them,  it  was  now  too  plain, 
■  God  had  accomplished  upon  them  the  prophetical 
1  curse,  of  being  left  to  their  own  wilful  hardness 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


79 


and  impenitency,  to  be  blind  at  noon-day,  and  to 
run  themseves  against  all  means  and  methods  into 
irrecoverable  ruin  ;  that  since  the  case  was  thus 
with  them,  they  must  expect,  that  henceforth  he 
should  turn  his  preaching  to  the  Gentiles,  who 
would  be  most  ready  to  entertain  what  they  had 
so  scornfully  rejected,  the  glad  tidings  of  the 
gospel.* 

2.  It  was  not,  probably,  long  after  this,  that  he 
was  brought  to  his  first  hearing  before  the  em- 
peror, where  those  friends  whom  he  most  expect- 
ed should  stand  by  him,  plainly  deserted  him : 
afraid  it  seems  of  appearing  in  so  ticklish  a  cause 
before  so  unreasonable  a  judge,  who  governed 
himself  by  no  other  measures  than  the  brutish 
and  extravagant  pleasure  of  his  lust  or  humor. 
But  God  stood  by  him,  and  encouraged  him ; 
as  indeed  divine  consolations  are  many  times 
then  nearest  to  us,  when  human  assistances  are 
furthest  from  us.  This  cowardice  of  theirs  the 
apostle  had.  a  charity  large  enough  to  cover, 
heartily  praying,  that  it  might  not  be  brought 
against  them  in  the  accounts  of  tlie  great  day.f 
Two  years  he  dwelt  at  Rome  in  a  bouse  which  he 
hired  for  his  own  use,  wherein  lie  constantly  em- 
ployed himself  in  preaching  and  writing  for  the 
good  of  the  church.  He  preached  daily,  without 
interruption,  to  all  that  came  to  liim,  and  with 
good  success  ;  yea,  even  upon  some  of  tlie  better 
rank  and  quality,  and  those  belonging  to  the  court 
itself.  Among  which,  the  Roman  martyrology 
reckons  Torpes,  an  officer  of  prime  note  in  Nero's 
palace,  and  afterwards  a  martyr  for  the  faith  ;  and 
Chrysostom  (if  Baronius  cites  him  right)  tells  us 
of  Nero's  cup-bearer,  and  one  of  his  concubines, 
supposed  by  some  to  have  been  Poppsea  Sabina, 
of  whom  Tacitus  gives  tliis  character,  that  she 
wanted  nothing  to  render  Iier  one  of  the  most  ac- 
complished ladies  in  the  world,  but  a  cliaste  and 
a  virtuous  mind  ;  and  I  know  not  how  far  it  may 
seem  to  countenance  her  conversion,  at  least  incli- 
nation to  a  better  religion  than  that  of  paganism, 
that  JosephusJ  styles  her  a  pious  woman,  and  tells 
us  that  she  effectually  solicited  the  cause  of  the 
Jews  with  her  husband,  Nero  ;  and  what  favors 
Josephus  himself  received  from  her  at  Rome,  he 
relates  in  his  own  life. 

3.  Amongst  other  of  our  apostle's  converts  at 
Rome  was  Onesimus,  who  had  formerly  being 
servant  to  Philemon,  a  person  of  eminency  in  Co- 
losse  ;  but  had  run  away  from  liis  master,  and 
taken  things  of  some  value  with  liim.  Having 
rambled  as  far  as  Rome,  he  was  now  converted 
by  St.  Paul,  and  by  him  returned  with  recom- 
mendatory letters  to  PliOemon,  his  master,  to  beg 
his  pardon,  and  that  he  might  be  received  into 
favor,  being  now  of  a  much  better  temper,  more 
faithful  and  diligent,  and  useful  to  his  master  than 
he  had  been  before  ;  as  indeed  Christianity,  where 
it  is  heartily  entertained,  makes  men  good  in  all 
relations  ;  no  laws  being  so  wisely  contrived  for 
the  peace  and  happiness  of  the  world,  as  the  laws 
of  the  gospel,  as  may  appear  by  this  particular 

*  It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that  the  prejudices  which 
prevailed  among  the  Jews  in  their  own  country, 
should  have  thus  infected  them  even  in  the  midst  of 
a  highly  free  and  cultivated  people. — Ed. 

1 1  Tim.  iv.  16.    t  Antiq.  lib.  xx.  cap.  7,  p.  697. 
fJ2  (22) 


case  of  servants:  what  admirable  rules,  what 
severe  laws  does  it  lay  upon  them  for  the  discharge 
of  their  duties !  It  commands  them  to  honor 
their  masters  as  their  superiors,  and  to  take  heed 
of  making  their  authority  light  and  cheap,  by 
familiar  and  contemptible  thoughts  and  carriages, 
to  obey  them  in  all  honest  and  lawful  tilings,  and 
that  "  not  with  eye-service,  as  men-pleasers,  but 
in  singleness  of  heart,  as  unto  God:"  that  they 
be  faithful  to  the  trust  committed  to  them,  and 
manage  their  master's  interest  with  as  much  care 
and  conscience  as  if  it  were  their  own  ;  that  they 
entertain  their  reproofs,  counsels,  corrections  with 
all  silence  and  sobriety,  not  returning  any  rude, 
surly  answers  ;  and  this  carriage  to  be  observed, 
not  only  to  masters  of  a  mild  and  gentle,  but  of  a 
cross  and  peevish  disposition  ;  that  « whatever 
they  do,  they  do  it  heartUy,  not  as  to  men  only, 
but  to  the  Lord  ;  knowing  that  of  the  Lord  they 
shall  receive  the  reward  of  the  inheritance,  for 
that  they  serve  the  Lord  Christ."  Imbued  with 
these  excellent  principles,  Onesimus  is  again  re- 
turned unto  his  master ;  for  Christian  religion, 
though  it  improves  men's  tempers,  does  not  cancel 
their  relations ;  it  teaches  them  to  abide  in  their 
callings,  and  "  not  to  despise  their  masters,  be- 
cause they  are  brethren,  but  rather  do  them  ser- 
vice because  they  are  faithful."  And  being  thus 
improved,  St.  Paul  the  more  confidently  begged 
his  pardon.  And,  indeed,  had  not  PliUemon  been 
a  Christian,  and  by  the  principles  of  his  religion, 
both  disposed  and  obliged  to  mildness  and  mercy, 
there  had  been  great  reason  why  St.  Paul  should 
be  thus  importunate  with  him  for  Onesimus's 
pardon ;  the  case  of  servants  in  those  days  being 
very  hard,  for  all  masters  were  looked  upon  ay 
having  an  unlimited  power  over  their  borvants,  and 
that  not  only  by  the  Roman,  but  by  the  laws  ol 
all  nations;  whereby,  without  asking  the  magis- 
trate's leave,  or  any  public  and  formal  trial,  thev 
might  adjudge  and  condemn  them  to  what  work 
or  punishment  they  pleased,  even  to  the  taking 
away  of  life  itself.  But  the  severity  and  exorbi- 
tancy of  this  power  was  afterwards  somewhat 
curbed  by  the  laws  of  succeeding  emperons  espe- 
cially after  the  empire  submitted  itself  to  Christi- 
anity, which  makes  better  provision  for  persons  in 
that  capacity  and  relation;  and  in  case  of  unjust 
and  over-rigorous  usage,  enables  them  to  apj)eal 
to  a  more  righteous  and  impartial  tribunal,  where 
master  and  servant  shall  both  stand  upon  even 
ground  ;  "where  he  that  doth  wrong  shall  receive 
for  the  wrong  which  he  hath  done  ;  and  there  is 
no  respect  of  persons." 

4.  The  Christians  at  Philippi  having  heard  of 
St.  Paul's  imprisonment  at  Rome,  and  not  know- 
ing what  straits  he  might  be  reduced  to,  raised  a 
contribution  for  him,  and  sent  it  by  Epaphroditus, 
their  bishop,  who  was  now  come  to  Rome,  where 
he  shortly  after  fell  dangerously  sick :  but  being- 
recovered,  and  upon  the  point  to  return,  by  him 
St.  Paul  sent  his  epistle  to  the  Philippians,  where- 
in he  gives  them  some  account  of  the  state  of 
affairs  at  Rome,  gratefully  acknowledges  their 
kindness  to  him,  and  warns  them  of  those  dangor- 
our  opinions  which  the  Judaizing  teachers  began 
to  vent  among  them.  The  apostle  had  heretofore, 
for  some  years,  lived  at  Ephesus,  and  perfectly 
understood  the  state  and  condition  of  that  place  ; 


80 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


and  therefore  now,  by  Tychicus,  writes  his  epistle 
to  the  Ephesians,  endeavoring  to  countermine  the 
principles  and  practices  both  of  Jews  and  Gentiles, 
to  contirm  them  in  the  belief  and  obedience  of  the 
Christian  doctrine,  to  represent  the  infinite  riches 
of  the  divine  oroodness  in  admitting  the  Gentile 
world  to  the  unsearchable  treasures  of  Christi- 
anity, especially  pressing  them  to  express  the  life 
and  "spirit  of  it  in  tlie  general  duties  of  religion, 
and  in  the  duties  of  their  particular  relations. 
I\Iuch  about  the  same  time,  or  a  little  after,  he 
wrote  his  epistle  to  the  Colossians,  among  whom 
he  had  never  been,  and  sent  it  by  Epaphras  who 
for  some  time  had  been  his  fellow-prisoner  at  Rome. 
The  design  of  it  is,  for  the  greatest  part,  the  same 
with  that  to  the  Ephesians,  to  settle  and  confirm 
them  in  the  faith  of  the  gospel,  against  the  errors 
both  of  Judaism,  and  the  superstitious  observances 
of  the  heathen  world,  some  whereof  liad  taken 
root  amongst  them. 

5.  It  is  not  improbable  but  that  about  this,  or 
rather  some  considerable  time  before,  St.  Paul 
wrote  his  second  epistle  to  Timothy.  I  know 
Eusebius,  and  the  ancients,  and  most  moderns 
after  them,  will  have  it  written  a  little  before  his 
martyrdom  ;  induced  thereunto  by  that  passage  in 
it,  that  he  was  then  "  ready  to  be  offered,  and 
that  the  time  of  his  departure  was  at  hand." 
But  surely  it  is  most  reasonable  to  think,  that  it 
was  written  at  his  first  being  at  Rome,  and  that 
at  his  first  coming  thither,  presently  after  his  trial 
before  Nero.  Accordingly,  the  passage  before 
mentioned  may  import  no  more,  than  that  he  was 
in  imminent  danger  of  his  life,  and  had  received 
the  sentence  of  death  in  himself,  not  hoping  to 
ej^cape  out  of  the  paws  of  Nero  ;  but  that  "  God 
had  him  delivered  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  lion,"  i.  e. 
the  great  danger  he  was  in  at  his  coming  thither  : 
which  exactly  agrees  to  his  case  at  his  first  being 
at  Rome,  but  cannot  be  reconciled  with  his  last 
coming  thither;  together  with  many  more  cir- 
cumstances in  this  epistle,  which  render  it  next 
door  to  certain.  In  it  he  appoints  Timothy  shortly 
to  come  to  him,  who  accordingly  came,  and  whose 
name  is  joined  together  with  his  in  the  front  of 
several  epistles  to  the  Philippians,  Colossians,  and 
to  Philemon.  The  only  thing  that  can  be  levelled 
against  this  is,  that  in  his  epistle  to  Timothy,  he 
tells  him,  that  he  had  sent  Tychicus  to  Ephesus, 
by  whom  it  is  plain  that  the  epistles  to  the  Ephe- 
sians and  Philippians  were  despatched  ;  and  that 
therefore  this  to  Timothy  must  be  written  after 
them.  But  I  see  no  inconvenience  to  affirm,  that 
Tychicus  might  come  to  Rome  presently  after  St. 
Paul's  arrival  there ;  might  be  by  him  immediately 
sent  back  to  Ephesus  ujjon  some  emergent  affair 
of  that  church ;  and  after  his  return  to  Rome  be 
sent  with  those  two  epistles.  The  design  of  the 
epistle  was  to  excite  the  holy  man  to  a  mighty 
zeal  and  diligence,  care  and  fidelity  in  his  office, 
and  to  antidote  the  people  against  those  poisonous 
principles  that  in  those  parts  especially  began  to 
debauch  the  minds  of  men. 

6.  As  for  the  epistle  to  tiio  Hebrews,  it  is  very 
uncertain  when,  or  whence,  and  (for  some  ages 
doubted)  by  whom  it  was  writt-en.  Eusebius 
tells  us  It  was  not  received  by  many,  because  re- 
jected by  the  church  of  Rome,  as  none  of  St. 
Paul's  genuine  epistles.     Origen  affirms  the  style 


and  phrase  of  it  to  be  more  fine  and  elegant,  and 
to  contain  in  it  a  rich  vein  of  purer  Greek  than  is 
usually  found  in  St.  Paul's  epistles ;  as  every  one 
that  is  able  to  judge  of  a  style,  must  needs  con- 
fess ;  that  the  sentences  indeed  are  grave  and 
weighty,  and  such  as  breathe  the  spirit  and  ma- 
jesty of  an  apostle  ;  that  therefore  it  was  his  judg- 
ment that  the  matter  contained  in  it  had  been 
dictated  by  some  apostle  ;  but  that  it  had  been 
put  into  phrase,  form,  and  order  by  some  other 
person  that  did  attend  upon  him  ;  that  if  any 
church  owned  it  for  St.  Paul's,  they  were  not  to 
be  condemned,  it  not  being  without  reason  by  the 
ancients  ascribed  to  him  ;  though  God  only  knew 
who  was  the  true  author  of  it.  He  further  tells 
us,  that  report  had  handed  it  down  to  his  time, 
that  it  had  been  composed  partly  by  Clemens  of 
Rome,  partly  by  Luke  the  evangelist.  TertuUian 
adds,  that  it  was  writ  by  Barnabas.  What 
seems  most  likely  in  such  variety  of  opinions 
is,  that  St.  Paul  originally  wrote  it  in  Hebrew ; 
it  being  to  be  sent  to  the  Jews,  his  countrymen, 
and  by  some  other  person,  probably  St.  Luke, 
or  Clemens  Romanus,  translated  into  Greek; 
especially  since  both  Eusebius  and  St.  Jerome 
observed  of  old  such  a  great  affinity  both  in  style 
and  sense  between  this  and  Clemen's  epistle  to 
the  Corinthians,  as  thence  positively  to  conclude 
him  to  be  the  translator  of  it.  It  was  written,  as 
we  may  conjecture,  a  little  after  he  was  restored 
to  his  liberty,  and  probably  while  he  was  yet  in 
some  parts  of  Italy,  whence  he  dates  his  saluta- 
tions.* The  main  design  of  it  is  to  magnify 
Christ  and  the  religion  of  the  gospel,  above  Moses 
and  the  Jewish  economy  and  ministration  ;  that 
by  this  means  he  might  the  better  establish  and 
confirm  the  convert  Jews  in  the  firm  belief  and 
profession  of  Christianity,  notwithstanding  those 
sufterings  and  persecutions  that  came  upon  them ; 
endeavoring  throughout  to  arm  and  fortify  them 
against  apostacy  from  that  noble  and  excellent  re- 
ligion wherein  they  had  so  happily  engaged  them- 
selves. And  great  need  there  was  for  the  apostle 
severely  to  urge  them  to  it ;  heavy  persecutions, 
both  from  Jews  and  Gentiles,  pressing  in  upon 
them  on  every  side,  besides  those  trains  of  spe- 
cious and  plausible  insinuations  that  were  laid  to 
reduce  them  to  their  ancient  institutions.  Hence, 
the  apostle  calls  apostacy  "  the  sin  which  did  so 
easily  beset  them,"f  to  which  there  were  such  fre- 
quent temptations,  and  into  which  they  were  so 
prone  to  be  betrayed  in  those  suffering  times. 
And  the  more  to  deter  them  from  it,  he  once  and 
again  sets  before  them  the  dreadful  state  and  con- 
dition of  apostates;  those  who  have  been  "once 
enlightened,"!  and  baptized  into  the  Christian 
faith,  "  tasted"  the  promises  of  the  gospel,  and 
been  "  made  partakers"  of  the  miraculous  gifts  of 
the  "  Holy  Ghost,"  those  "  powers"  which  in  the 
"  world  to  come,"  or  this  new  state  of  things, 
were  to  be  conferred  upon  the  church  ;  if  after  all 
this,  "  these  men  fall  away,"  and  renounce  Ciiristi- 
anity,  it  is  very  hard,  and  even  "  impossible  to 
renew  them  again  unto  repentance."  For  by  this 
means  "  tliey  trod  under  foot,"  and  "■  crucified  the 
Son  of  God  afresh,"  and  "put  him  to  an  open 
shame,"  profaned  "  the  blood  of  the  covenant," 

*  Hob.  xiii.  21.    t  Chap.  xii.  L    t  Chap.  vi.  4,  5,  6. 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


81 


and  "  did  despite  to  the  spirit  of  grace."  So, 
that  "to  sin"  thus  "wilfully  after  they  had  re- 
ceived the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  tliere"  could 
"remain"  for  them  "no  more  sacrifice  for  sins  ;" 
nothing  "  but  a  certain  fearful  looking  for  of  judg- 
ment and  fiery  indignation  which  should  devour" 
these  "adversaries."  And  "a  fearful  thing  it 
was,"  in  such  circumstances,  "to  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  living  God  ;"*  who  had  particularly 
said  of  this  sort  of  sinners,  that  "if  any  man 
drew  back,  his  soul  should  have  no  pleasure  in 
him."  Hence  it  is,  that  every  where  in  this  epis- 
tle he  mixes  exhortations  to  this  purpose,  that 
"they  would  give  earnest  heed  to  the  things  which 
they  had  heard,  lest  at  any  time  they  should  let 
them  slip  ;"  that  "  they  would  hold  fast  the  con- 
fidence, and  the  rejoicing  of  the  hope,  firm  unto 
the  end,"  and  "  beware,  lest  by  an  evil  heart  of 
unbelief  they  departed  from  the  livmg  God;" 
that  they  would  "  labor  to  enter  into  his  rest,  lest 
any  man  fall  after  the  example  of  unbehef ;  that 
leaving  the"  first  "  principles  of  the  doctrine  of 
Christ,  they  would  go  on  to  perfection,  showing 
diligence  to  the  full  assurance  of  hope  unto  the 
end ;  not  being  slothful,  but  followers  of  them, 
who  through  faith  and  patience  inherit  the  pro- 
mises ;"  that  they  would  "  hold  fast  the  profession 
of  the  faith  without  wavering,  not  forsaking  the 
assembling  of  themselves  together,  (as  the  man- 
ner of  some  was,")  nor  "cast  away  their  confi- 
dence, which  had  great  recompence  of  reward ;" 
that  "  they  had  need  of  patience,  that  after  they 
had  done  the  will  of  God,  they  might  receive  the 
promise ;"  that  they  "  would  not  be  of  them  who 
drew  back  unto  perdition,  but  of  them  that  be- 
lieved to  the  saving  of  the  soul ;"  that  "  being 
encompassed  about  with  so  great  a  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses," who  with  the  most  unconquerable  con- 
stancy and  resolution  had  all  holden  on  in  the  way 
to  heaven,  "  they  would  lay  aside  every  weight, 
and  the  sin  which  did  so  easily  beset  them,  and 
run  with  patience  the  race  that  was  set  before 
them ;"  especially  "  looking  unto  Jesus,  the  au- 
thor and  finisher  of  their  faith,  who  endured  the 
cross,  and  despised  the  shame  ;"  that  therefore 
"  they  should  consider  him  that  endured  such  con- 
tradiction of  sinners  against  himself,  lest  they 
should  be  wearied  and  faint  in  their  minds  ;"  for 
that  "  they  had  not  yet  resisted  unto  blood,  striving 
against  sin  ;  looking  diligently,  lest  any  man  should 
fail  of  the  grace  of  God,  lest  any  root  of  bitter- 
ness springing  up  should  trouble  them,  and  there- 
by many  be  defiled."  By  all  which,  and  much 
more  that  might  be  observed  to  this  purpose,  it  is 
evident  what  our  apostle's  great  design  was  in 
this  excellent  epistle. 

7.  Our  apostle  being  now,  after  two  years'  cus- 
tody, perfectly  restored  to  liberty,  remembered 
that  he  was  the  apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  and  had 
therefore  a  larger  diocess  than  Rome,  and  accord- 
ingly prepared  himself  for  a  greater  circuit,  though 
which  way  he  directed  his  course  is  not  absolutely 
certain.  By  some  he  is  said  to  have  returned 
back  into  Greece,  and  the  parts  of  Asia,  upon  no 
other  ground  that  I  know  of,  than  a  few  intima- 
tions in  some  of  his  epistles  that  he  intended  to 
do  so.     By  others  he  is  thought  to  have  preached 


♦  Heb.  X.  26-3L 


both  in  the  eastern  and  western  parts,  which  ia 
not  inconsistent  with  the  time  he  had  after  his  de- 
parture irom  Rome.  But  of  the  latter  we  have 
better  evidence.  Sure  I  am,  an  author  beyond 
all  exception,  St.  Paul's  contemporary  and  fellow- 
laborer,  I  mean  Clemens,  in  his  famous  epistle  to 
the  Corinthians,  expressly  tells  us,  that  being  a 
preacher  both  in  the  east  and  west,  he  taught 
righteousness  to  the  whole  world,  and  went  to  the 
utmost  bounds  of  the  west :  which  makes  me  the 
more  wonder  at  the  confidence  of  one  (otherwise  a 
man  of  great  parts  and  learning)  who  so  peremp- 
torily denies  that  ever  our  apostle  preached  in  the 
west,  merely  because  there  are  no  monuments  left 
in  primitive  antiquity  of  any  particular  churches 
there  founded  by  him ;  as  if  all  the  particular  pas- 
sages of  liis  hfe,  done  at  so  vast  a  distance,  must 
needs  have  been  recorded,  or  those  records  have 
come  down  to  us,  when  it  is  so  notoriously  known, 
that  almost  all  the  writings  and  monuments  of 
those  first  ages  of  Christianity  are  long  since 
perished  ;  or  as  if  we  were  not  sufficiently  as- 
sured of  the  thing  in  general,  though  not  of  what 
particulars  he  did  there.  Probable  it  is,  that  he 
went  into  Spain,  a  thing  which  himself  tells  us  he 
had  formerly  once  and  again  resolved  on.  Cer- 
tain it  is,  that  the  ancients  do  generally  assert  it, 
without  seeming  in  the  least  to  doubt  of  it.  The- 
odoret  and  others  tell  us,  that  he  preached  not 
only  in  Spain,  but  that  he  went  to  other  nations, 
and  brought  the  gospel  into  the  isles  of  the  sea, 
by  which  he  undoubtedly  means  Britain ;  and 
therefore  elsewhere  reckons  the  Gauls  and  Britons 
among  the  nations  which  the  apostles,  and  par- 
ticularly the  tent-maker,  persuaded  to  embrace 
the  law  of  Christ.  Nor  is  he  the  only  man  that 
has  said  it,  others  having  given  in  their  testimony 
and  suifrage  in  this  case.* 

8.  To  what  other  parts  of  the  world  St.  Paul 
preached  the  gospel,  we  find  no  certain  footsteps 
in  antiquity,  nor  any  further  mention  of  him  till 
his  return  to  Rome,  which  probably  was  about  the 
eighth  or  ninth  year  of  Nero's  reign.  Here  he 
met  with  Peter,  and  was,  together  with  him, 
thrown  into  prison  ;  no  doubt  in  the  general  per- 
secution raised  against  the  Christians,  under  the 
pretence  that  they  had  fired  the  city.  Besides 
the  general,  we  may  reasonably  suppose  there 
were  particular  causes  of  his  imprisonment.  Some 
of  the  ancients  make  him  engaged  with  Peter  in 
procuring  the  fall  of  Simon  Magus,  and  that  that 
derived  the  emperor's  fury  and  rage  upon  him. 
St.  Chrysostom  give  us  this  account ;  that  having 
converted  one  of  Nero's  concubines,  a  woman  of 
whom  he  was  infinitely  fond,  and  reduced  her  to 
a  life  of  great  strictness  and  chastity,  so  that  now 
she  wholly  refused  to  comply  with  his  wanton  and 
impure  embraces ;  the  emperor  stormed  thereat, 
calling  the  apostle  a  villain  and  imposter,  a 
wretched  perverter  and  debaucher  of  others, 
giving  order  that  he  should  be  cast  into  prison ; 
and  when  he  still  persisted  in  persuading  the  lady 

*  It  is  on  an  expression  in  the  epistle  of  Clemens 
Romanus  to  the  Corinthians,  that  the  opinion  re- 
specting Paul's  journey  into  Spain  chiefly  rests: 
Clemens  says,  that  "  he  came  to  the  borders  of  the 
west ;"  but  it  is  argued  on  the  other  side,  that  Rome 
or  Italy  only  was  intended  by  this  expression.— Ed, 


82 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


to  continue  her  chaste  and  pious  resolutions,  com- 
manding  him  to  be  put  to  death. 

9.  How  long  he  remained  in  prison  is  not  cer- 
tainly known :  at  last  his  execution  was  resolved 
on  ;*  what  his  preparatory  treatment  was,  whether 
scourged  as  malefactors  were  wont  to  be  in  order 
to  their  death,  we  find  not.  As  a  Roman  citizen 
by  the  Valerian  and  the  Porcian  law,  he  was  ex- 
empted from  it ;  though  by  the  law  of  the  twelve 
tables  notorious  malefactors,  condemned  by  the 
centuriate  assemblies,  were  first  to  be  scourged, 
and  then  put  to  death  ;  and  Baronius  tells  us,  that 
in  the  church  of  St.  Mary,  beyond  the  bridge  of 
Rome,  the  pillars  are  yet  extant,  to  which  both 
Peter  and  Paul  are  said  to  have  been  bound  and 
scourged.  As  he  was  led  to  execution,  he  is  said 
to  have  converted  three  of  the  soldiers  that  were 
sent  to  conduct  and  guard  him,  who  within  a  few 
days  after,  by  the  emperor's  command,  became 
martyrs  for  the  faith.  Being  come  to  the  place, 
which  was  the  Aquce  Salviae,  three  miles  from 
Rome,  after  some  solemn  preparation,  he  cheer- 
fully gave  his  neck  to  the  fatal  stroke.  As  a  Roman 
he  might  not  be  put  upon  the  cross,  too  infamous  a 
death  for  any  but  the  worst  of  slaves  and  male- 
factors, and  therefore  was  beheaded  ;  accounted 
a  more  noble  kind  of  death,  not  among  the  Ro- 
mans only,  but  among  other  nations,  as  being 
fitter  for  persons  of  better  quality,  and  more  in- 
genious education :  and  from  this  instrument  of 
his  execution  the  custom,  no  doubts  first  arose,  that 
in  all  pictures  and  images  of  this  apostle,  he  is 
constantly  represented  with  a  sword  in  his  right 
hand.  Tradition  reports  (justified  herein  by  the 
suffrage  of  many  of  the  fathers)  that  when  he 
was  beheaded,  a  liquor  more  like  milk  than  blood 
flowed  from  his  veins,  and  spirted  upon  the  clothes 
of  his  executioner ;  and  had  I  list  or  leisure  for 
such  things,  I  might  entertain  the  reader  with 
little  glosses  that  are  made  upon  it.  St.  Chrysos- 
torn  adds,  that  it  became  a  means  of  converting 
his  executioner,  and  many  more  to  the  faith  ;  and 
that  the  apostle  suffered  in  the  sixty-eighth  year 
of  his  age.  Some  question  there  is,  whether  he 
suffered  at  the  same  time  with  Peter ;  many  of 
the  ancients  positively  affirm,  that  both  suflfered 
on  the  same  day  and  year ;  others,  though  al- 
lowing  the  same  day,  tells  us  that  St.  Paul  suffer- 
ed not  until  the  year  after ;  nay,  some  interpose 
the  distance  of  several  years.  A  manuscript 
writer  of  the  hves  and  travels  of  Peter  and  Paul, 
brought  amongst  other  venerable  monuments  of 
antiquity  out  of  Greece,  will  have  Paul  to  have 
suffered  no  less  than  five  years  after  Peter,  which 
he  justifies  by  the  authority  of  no  less  than  Justin 
Martyr  and  IrenjEus.  But  what  credit  is  to  be 
given  to  this  nameless  aufhor,  I  see  not ;  and 
therefore  lay  no  weight  upon  it,  nor  think  it  fit  to 
be  put  into  the  balance  with  the  testimonies  of 
the  ancients.  Certainly  if  he  suffered  not  at  the 
very  same  time  with  Peter,  it  could  not  be  long 
after,  not  above  a  year  at  most.  The  best  is, 
which  of  them  soever  started  first,  they  both  came 
at  last  to  the  same  end  of  the  race ;  to  those 
palms  and  crowns  which  are  reserved  for  all  good 
men  in  heaven,  but  most  eminently  for  the  mar- 
tyrs of  the  Christian  faith. 

♦  That  is,  about  the  year  64  or  65.— Ed. 


10.  He  was  buried  in  the  Via  Ostiensis  about 
two  miles  from  Rome,  over  whose  grave,  about 
the  year  318,  Constantino  the  Great,  at  the  in- 
stance of  pope  Sylvester,  built  a  stately  church, 
within  a  farm  wliich  Lucina,  a  noble  Christian 
matron  of  Rome,  had  long  before  settled  upon 
that  church.  He  adorned  it  with  a  hundred  of 
of  the  best  marble  columns,  and  beautified  it  with 
the  most  exquisite  workmanship ;  the  many  rich 
gifts  ajid  endowments  which  he  bestowed  upon  it, 
being  particularly  set  down  in  the  life  of  Sylves- 
ter. This  church,  as  too  narrow  and  little  for  the 
honor  of  so  great  an  apostle,  Valentinian,  or 
rather  Theodosius  the  emperor,  (the  one  but 
finishing  what  the  other  began,)  by  a  rescript 
directed  to  Sallustius,  prefect  of  the  city,  caused 
to  be  taken  down,  and  a  larger  and  more  noble 
church  to  be  built  in  the  room  of  it:  further 
beautified  (as  appears  from  an  ancient  inscription) 
by  Placidia  the  empress,  at  the  persuasion  of 
Leo,  bishop  of  Rome.  What  other  additions  of 
wealth,  honor,  or  stateliness,  it  has  received  since, 
concerns  not  me  to  inquire. 


SECTION  VIII. 

The  description   of  his  Person  and  Temper,  to- 
gether with  an  account  of  his  Writings. 

Though  we  have  drawn  St.  Paul  at  large,  in  the 
account  we  have  given  of  his  Ufe,  yet  may  it  be  of 
use  to  represent  him  in  little,  in  a  brief  accoimt  of 
his  person,  parts,  and  those  graces  and  virtues,  for 
which  he  was  more  pecuUarly  eminent  and  re- 
markable. For  his  person,  we  find  it  thus  de- 
scribed. He  was  low,  and  of  little  stature,  and 
somewhat  stooping,  his  complexion  fair,  his  coun- 
tenance grave,  his  head  small,  his  eyes  carrying  a 
kind  of  beauty  and  sweetness  in  them,  his  eye- 
brows a  little  hanging  over,  his  nose  long,  but 
gracefully  bending,  his  beard  thick,  and  like  the 
hair  of  his  head,  mixed  with  gray  hairs.  Some- 
what of  this  description  may  be  learnt  from  Lu- 
cian,  when  in  the  person  of  Trypho,  one  of  St. 
Paul's  disciples,  he  calls  him  by  way  of  derision, 
high-nosed,  bald-pated  Galilean,  that  was  caught 
up  through  the  air  unto  the  '*  third  heaven,"  where 
he  learnt  great  and  excellent  things.  That  he  was 
very  low,  himself  plainly  intimates,  when  he  tells 
us,  they  were  vt'ont  to  say  of  him,  that  "  his  bodily 
presence  was  weak,  and  his  speech  contemptible  ;* 
in  which  respect  he  is  styled  by  Chrysostom, 
0  Tpnrr)xv(  av&pu)noi,  a  man  three  cubits  [or  a  little 
more  than  four  foot]  high,  and  yet  tall  enough  to 
reach  heaven.  He  seems  to  have  enjoyed  no  very 
firm  and  athletic  constitution,  being  often  subject 
to  distempers.  St.  Jerome  particularly  reports, 
that  he  was  frequently  afilicted  with  the  head-ache, 
and  that  this  was  thought  by  many  to  have  been 
"  the  thorn  in  the  flesh,  the  messenger  of  Satan 
sent  to  buffet  him,"  and  that  probably  he  intended 
some  such  thing  by  "the  temptation  in  his  flesh,"f 
which  he  elsewhere  speaks  of:  which,  however  it 
may  in  general  signify  those  afl!lictions  that  came 
upon  him,  yet  does  it  primarily  denote  those 
diseases  and  infirmities  that  he  was  obnoxious  to. 


*  2  Cor.  X.  10. 


t  Gal.  iv.  14. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


83 


2.  But  how  mean  soever  the  cabinet  was,  there  i  over  thp  rp^t    f  u-  T'  ~ 

was  a  treasure  within  more  precious  and  valuable,  >  with  frrpnt  nL?  ^^rethren  :  entrusted  he  was 
as  will  appear,  if  we  survey  the  accomplishments  nevSecn  l'""  ^"^''^""'^^  '"'''"  '='""•''-'''  ^"^ 
of  his  mind.  For  as  tc  h.^  natural  abilities  and  !  Xr  pla^e  thanrh'Vri" '"'"?  ^''^''  ""''  ^"^ 
endowments,  beseems  to  have  had  a  clear  and   ever  ...l;i.l",^^^^^ '^^^  nor 


solid  judgment,  quick  invention,  a  prompt  and  ready 
memory  ;  all  which  were  abundantly  improved  by 
art,  and  the  advantages  of  a  more  liberal  educa- 
tion. The  schools  of  Tarsus  had  sharpened  his 
discursive  faculty  by  logic  and  the  arts  of  reasoning, 
instructed  him  in  the  institutions  of  philosophy,  and 


and   ever  made  use  of  his 


j**y 

power,  but  to  the  edificiition, 


Hinp'.lr?'''"  "^  ""y.-     "'^^^^  •'Studiously  did  he  de- 
chne  all   honors  and  commendations   that  were 

mT.^K       ?^"'""P,^"y«"'l  ^"  measures,  and 
under  the  patronage  of  his  name  began  to  set 


enriched  him  with  the  furniture  of  all  kmds  of  hu-    that  ir^as  C  Ir  st    nofhe'Zt  w 


party  ;  he  severely  rebuked  them,  told  thein 


up 


man  learning.  This  gave  him  great  advantage 
above  others,  and  ever  raised  him  to  a  mighty  re- 
putation for  parts  and  learning  ;  insomuch  that  St. 
Chrysostom  tells  us  of  a  dispute  between  a  Chris- 
tian and  a  heathen,  wherein  the  Christian  endea- 
vored to  prove  against  the  Gentile,  that  St.  Paul 
was  more  learned  and  eloquent  than  Plato  himself. 
How  well  he  was  versed,  not  only  in  the  law  of 
Moses  and  the  writings  of  the  prophets,  but  even 
in  classic  and  foreign  writers,  he  has  left  us  sure 
ground  to  conclude,  from  those  excellent  sayings 
which  here^  and  there  he  quotes  out  of  heathen 
authors.  Which,  as  at  once  it  shows  that  it  is  not 
unlawful  to  bring  the  spoils  of  Egypt  in  the  service 
of  the  sanctuary,  and  to  make  use  of  the  advan- 
tages of  foreign  studies  and  human  literature  to  di- 
vine and  excellent  purposes,  so  does  it  argue  his 
being  greatly  conversant  in  the  paths  of  human 
learning,  which  upon  every  occasion  he  could  so 
readily  command.  Indeed  he  seemed  to  have  been 
furnished  out  on  purpose  to  be  the  doctor  of  the 
Gentiles  ;  to  contend  with,  and  confute  the  grave 
and  the  wise,  the  acute  and  the  subtile,  the  sage 
and  the  learned  of  the  heathen  world,  and  to  wound 
them  (as  Julian's  word  was)  with  arrows  drawn 
out  of  their  own  quiver.  Though  we  do  not  find, 
that  in  his  disputes  with  the  Gentiles  he  made  much 
use  of  learning  and  philosophy ;  it  being  more 
agreeable  to  the  designs  of  the  gospel,  to  confound 
tiic  wisdom  and  learning  of  the  world  by  the  plain 
doctrine  of  the  cross. 

3.  These  were  great  accomplishments,  and  yet 
but  a  shadow  to  that  divine  temper  of  mind  that 
was  in  him,  which  discovered  itself  through  the 
whole  course  and  method  of  his  life.  He  was 
liumble  to  the  lowest  step  of  abasure  and  conde- 
scension, none  ever  thinking  better  of  others,  or 
more  meanly  of  himself  And  though,  when  he 
had  to  deal  with  envious  and  malicious  adversaries, 
who,  by  vilifying  his  person,  sought  to  obstruct  his 
ministry,  he  knew  how  to  magnify  his  office,  and 
to  let  them  know,  that  he  was  "no  whit  inferior  to 
the  very  chiefest  apostles  ;"  yet  out  of  this  case 
he  constantly  declared  to  all  the  world,  that  he 
looked  upon  himself  as  an  abortive,  and  an  un- 
timely birth,  as  "  the  least  of  the  apostles,  not  meet 
to  be  caUed  an  apostle  ;  and  as  if  this  were  not 
enough,  he  makes  a  word  on  purpose  to  express 
his  humility,  styling  himself  e^axtTorepov,  "  less  than 

the  least  of  all  saints,"  yea,  "  the  very  chief  of  sin-  j  out  of  some  ancient  manuscripts,  as  the  learm^d 
ners."     How  freely,  and  that  at  every  turn,  does   bishop  Usher  has  to  their  shame  sufficiently  dL-*- 


U^;  that  they  had  »noib^;b-S'S;::; 
name,  which  he  was  so  far  from,  that  he  did  nnt 
remember  that  he  had  baptized  above  throe  or 
four  of  them  ;  and  was  heartily  glad  he  had  bap- 
tized no  more,  lest  a  foundation  mi-ht  have  hoe,, 
laid  for  that  suspicion;  and  that  this  Paul,  indeed 
whom  they  so  much  extolled,  was  no  more  tlian  a' 
minister  of  Christ,  whom  our  Lord  had  appointed 
to  plant  and  build  up  his  churcli. 

4.  Great  was  his  temperance  and  sobriety,  so 
far  from  going  beyond  the  bounds  of  regularity, 
that  he  abridged  himself  of  the  conveniences  nt 
lawful  and  necessary  accommodations;  frequent 
were  his  hungerings  and  thirstings,  not  constrain- 
ed only,  but  voluntary:  it  is  probably  thought  that 
he  very  rarely  drank  any  wine  ;  and  certain  is  it. 
that  by  abstinence  and  mortification  he  "  kept  un- 
der and  subdued  his  body,"  reducing  the  extra- 
vagancy of  the  sensual  appetites  to  a^perfect  suh- 
jection  to  the  laws  of  reason.     By  this  means  lie 
easily  got  above  the  world,  and  "its  charms  and 
frowns,  and  made  his  mind  continually  conversant 
in  heaven ;  his   thoughts  were   fixed  there  ;  hLs 
desires  always  ascending  thither ;  what  he  taught 
others  he  practised  himself;  his  "conversation  was 
in  heaven,"  and  "  his  desires  were  to  depart,  and  to 
be  with  Christ ;"  this  world  did  neither  arrest  hi* 
affections,  nor  disturb  his  fears  ;  he  was  not  taken 
with  its  applause,  nor  frighted  with  its  threaten- 
ings ;  he  "  studied  not  to  please  men,"  nor  valued 
the  censures  and  judgments,  which  they  passed 
upon  him  ;  he  was  not  greedy  of  a  great  estate,  or 
titles  of  honor,  or  rich  presents   from  men,  not 
"seeking  theirs,  but  them;"  food  and  raiment  was 
his  bill  of  fare,  and  more  than  this  he  never  cared 
for  ;  accountuig,  that  the  less  he  was  clogged  with 
these  things,  the  lighter  he  should  march  to  hea- 
ven ;  especially  travelling  througli  a  world  over- 
run with  troubles  and  persecutions.     Ujton  thi.i 
account  it  is  probable  he  kept  himself  always  with- 
in a  single  life,  though  there  want  not  some  of  the 
ancients  who  expressly  reckon  him  in  the  number 
of  the  married  apostles,  as  Clemens  Alexandrinus, 
Ignatius,   and  some  others.      It  is  true  that  pas- 
sages is  not  to  be  found  in  the  genuine  epistle  of 
Ignatius  ;  but  yet  it  is  extant  in  all  those  that  are 
owned   and   published  by  the  church  of  Rome, 
though  they  have  not  been  wanting  to  banisli  it 
out  of  the  world,  having  expunged  St.  Paul's  name 


he  confess  what  he  was  before  his  conversion- 
blasphemer,  a  persecutor,  and  injurious  both  to 
God  and  men  1     Though  honored  with  peculiar 


a  covered  to  the  world.  But  for  th"  main  of  the 
question  we  can  readily  grant  it ;  the  Scripture 
seeming  most  fo  favor  it,  that  though  lie  asserted 


acts  of  the  highest  grace  and  favor,  taken  up  to   his  power  and  liberty  to  marry  as  well  as  the  rest, 

an  immediate  converse  with  God  in  heaven ;  yet  |  yet  that  he  lived  always  a  single  life. 

did  not  this  inspire  him  with  a  supercilious  loftiness  j     5,  His  kindness  and  charity  was  truly  admira- 


&4 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


ble ;  he  had  a  compassionate  tenderness  for  the 
poor,  and  a  quick  sense  of  the  wants  of  others  : 
to  wliat  cliurch  soever  he  came,  it  was  one  of  liis 
first  cares  to  make  provision  for  the  poor,  and  to 
stir  up  the  bounty  of  the  rich  and  wealthy  ;  nay, 
himself  worked  oft^n  with  his  own  hands,  not  only 
to  maintain  himself,  but  to  help  and  relieve  them. 
But  infinitely  greater  was  his  charity  to  the  souls 
of  men,  fearing  no  dangers,  refusing  no  labors, 
going  through  good  and  evil  report,  that  he  might 
gain  men  over  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  re- 
duce them  out  of  the  crooked  paths  of  vice  and 
idolatry,  and  set  them  in  the  right  way  to  eternal 
life.  Nay,  so  insatiable  his  thirst  after  tlie  good 
of  souls,  tiiat  he  affirms,  that  rather  than  his  coun- 
trymen the  Jews  should  miscarry,  by  not  believing 
and  entertaining  the  gospel,  he  could  be  content, 
nay  wished;  that  "  himself  might  be  accursed  from 
Christ  for  their  sake  ;"  i.  e.  that  he  might  be 
anathematized  and  cut  off  from  the  church  of 
Christ,  and  not  only  lose  the  honor  of  the  aposto- 
late,  but  be  reckoned  in  the  number  of  the  abject 
and  execrable  persons,  such  as  those  are  who  are 
separated  from  the  communion  of  the  church.  An 
instance  of  so  large  and  passionate  a  charity,  that 
lest  it  might  not  find  room  in  men's  belief,  he  ush- 
ered it  in  with  this  solemn  appeal  and  attestation, 
that  "  he  said  the  truth  in  Christ,  and  lied  not,  his 
conscience  bearing  him  witness  in  the  Holy 
Ghost."  And  as  he  was  infinitely  solicitous  to  gain 
men  over  to  the  best  religion  in  the  world ;  so  was 
he  not  less  careful  to  keep  them  from  being  se- 
duced from  it,  ready  to  suspect  every  thing  that 
might  "  corrupt  their  minds  from  the  simplicity  that 
is  in  Christ."  "  I  am  jealous  over  you  with  a 
godly  jealousy,"*  as  he  told  the  church  of  Corinth ; 
an  affection  of  all  others  the  most  active  and  vigi- 
lant, and  which  is  wont  to  inspire  men  with  the 
most  passionate  care  and  concernment  for  the  good 
of  those  for  whom  we  have  the  highest  measures 
of  love  and  kindness.  Nor  was  his  charity  to 
men  greater  than  his  zeal  for  God,  endeavoring 
with  ail  jiis  might  to  promote  the  honor  of  his 
master.  Indeed,  zeal  seems  to  have  had  a  deep 
foundation  in  the  natural  forwardness  of  his  temper. 
How  exceedingly  zealous  was  he,  while  in  the 
Jews'  religion,  of  the  traditions  of  his  fathers ; 
liovv  earnest  to  vindicate  and  assert  the  divinity  of 
the  Mosaic  dispensation,  and  to  persecute  all  of  a 
contrary  way,  even  to  rage  and  madness;  and 
when  afterwards  turned  into  a  right  channel,  it 
ran  with  as  swift  a  current ;  carrying  him  out, 
against  all  opposition,  to  ruin  the  kingdom  and  the 
powers  of  darkness,  to  beat  down  idolatry,  and  to 
plant  the  world  with  right  apprehensions  of  God, 
and  tlie  true  notions  of  religion.  VVJien,  at  Athens, 
he  saw  tiicm  so  much  overgrown  with  the  gross- 
est superstition  and  idolatry,  giving  the  honor  that 
was  alone  due  to  God  to  statues  and  images,  his 
zeal  began  to  ferment  and  to  boil  up  into  parox- 
ysms of  indignation;  and  he  could  not  but  let 
them  know  the  resentments  of  his  mind,  and  how 
much  herein  they  dishonored  God,  the  great  pa- 
rent and  maker  of  the  world. 

6.  This  zeal  must  needs  put  him  upon  a  mighty 
diligence    and  industry  in  the  execution  of  his 

♦  2  Cor.  xi.  2. 


office,  warning,  reproving,  entreating,  persuading, 
"preaching  in  season  and  out  of  season,"  by 
night  and  by  day,  by  sea  and  land  ;  no  pains  too 
much  to  be  taken,  no  dangers  too  great  to  be 
overcome.  For  five-and-thirty  years  after  his 
conversion,  he  seldom  stayed  long  in  one  place  ; 
from  Jerusalem,  through  Arabia,  Asia,  Greece, 
round  about  to  Ellyricum,  to  Rome,  and  even  to 
the  utmost  bounds  of  the  western  world,  "  fully 
preaching  the  gospel  of  Christ :"  running  (says 
St.  Jerome)  from  ocean  to  ocean,  like  the  sun  in 
the  heavens, of  which  it  is  said,  "his  going  forth 
is  from  the  end  of  the  heaven,  and  his  circuit  unto 
the  ends  of  it ;"  sooner  wanting  ground  to  tread 
on,  than  a  desire  to  propagate  the  faith  of  ChrisL 
Nicephorus  compares  him  to  a  bird  in  the  air,  that 
in  a  few  years  flew  round  the  world  :  Isidore  the 
Pelusiot,  to  a  winged  husbandman,  that  flew  from 
place  to  place  to  cultivate  the  world  with  the  most 
excellent  rules  and  institutions  of  life.  And  while 
the  other  apostles  did  as  it  were  choose  this  or 
that  particular  province,  as  the  main  sphere  of 
their  ministry,  St.  Paul  overran  the  whole  world 
to  its  utmost  bounds  and  corners,  planting  all 
places  where  he  came  with  the  divine  doctrines 
of  the  gospel.  Nor  in  this  course  was  he  tired 
out  with  the  dangers  and  difficulties  that  he  met 
with,  the  troubles  and  oppositions  that  were  raised 
against  him.  All  which  did  but  reflect  the  greater 
lustre  upon  his  patience;  whereof,  indeed  (as 
Clement  observes)  he  became  a  most  eminent 
pattern  and  exemplar,  during  the  biggest  troubles 
and  persecutions,  with  a  patience  triumphant  and 
unconquerable.  As  will  easily  appear,  if  we  take 
but  a  survey  of  what  trials  and  sufferings  he  un- 
derwent, some  part  whereof  are  briefly  summed 
up  by  himself.  In  labors  abundant,  in  stripes 
above  measure,  in  prisons  frequent,  in  deaths 
often  ;  thrice  beaten  with  rods,  once  stoned,  thrice 
suffered  shipwreck,  a  night  and  a  day  in  the  deep  ; 
in  journeyings  often,  in  perils  of  waters,  in  perils 
of  robbers,  in  perils  by  his  own  countrymen,  in 
perils  by  the  heathen,  in  perils  in  the  city,  in  pe- 
rils in  the  city,  in  perils  in  the  wilderness,  in  perils 
in  the  sea,  in  perils  among  false  brethren  ;  in 
weariness,  in  painfulness,  in  watchings  often,  in 
hunger  and  thirst,  in  fastings  often,  in  cold  and 
nakedness  ;  and  besides  these  things  that  were 
without,  that  which  daily  came  upon  him,  the  care 
of  all  the  churches.*  An  account  though  very 
great,  yet  far  short  of  what  he  endured ;  and 
wherein,  as  Chrysostom  observes,  he  does  cfoi^a. 
ixcTpia^civ,  modestly  keep  himself  within  his  mea- 
sures ;  for  had  he  taken  the  liberty  fully  to  have 
enlarged  himself,  he  might  have  filled  hundreds  of 
martyrologies  with  his  sufferings.  A  thousand 
times  was  his  life  at  stake  ;  in  every  suffering  he 
was  a  martyr,  and  what  fell  but  in  parcels  upon 
others,  came  all  upon  him  ;  while  they  skirmished 
only  with  single  parties,  he  had  the  whole  army 
of  sufferings  to  contend  with.  All  which  he  ge- 
nerously underwent  with  a  soul  as  calm  and  se- 
rene as  the  morning-sun  ;  no  spite  or  rage,  no 
fury  or  storms  cou'd  ruffle  and  discompose  his  spi- 
rit :  nay,  tliose  sufferings,  which  would  have  bro- 
ken the  back  of  an  ordinary  patience,  did  but 


♦  2  Cor.  xi.  23,  et  seq. 


LIVES    OP   THE    APOSTLES. 


make  him  rise  up  with  the  greater  eagerness  and 
resolution  for  the  doing  of  his  duty. 

7.  His  patience  will  yet  further  appear  from  the 
consideration  of  another,  the  last  of  those  virtues 
we  shall  take  notice  of  in  him,  his  constancy  and 
fidelity  in  the  discharge  of  his  place,  and  in  the 
profession  of  religion.  Could  the  powers  and  poh- 
cies  of  men  and  devils,  spite  and  oppositions,  tor- 
ments and  threatenings  have  been  able  to  bafHe 
him  out  of  that  religion  wherein  he  had  engaged 
himself,  he  must  have  sunk  under  them,  and  left 
his  station.  But  his  soul  was  steeled  with  a 
courage  and  resolution  that  was  impenetrable,  and 
which  no  temptation  either  from  hopes  or  fears 
could  make  any  more  impression  upon,  than  an 
arrow  can  that  is  shot  agamst  a  wail  of  marble. 
He  wanted  not  solicitation  on  either  hand,  both 
from  Jews  and  Gentiles;  and  questionless  might, 
in  some  degree,  have  made  his  own  terms,  would 
he  have  been  false  to  his  trust,  and  have  quitted 
that  way  that  was  then  every  where  spoken 
agamst.  But,  alas !  these  things  weighed  little 
with  our  apostle,  who  "  counted  not  his  life  to  be 
dear  unto  him,  so  that  he  might  finish  his  course 
with  joy,  and  the  ministry  which  he  had  received 
of  the  Lord  Jesus."  And  therefore,  when  under 
the  sentence  of  death  in  his  own  apprehensions, 
could  triumphantly  say,  "I  have  fought  a  good 
fight,  I  have  finisiied  my  course,  I  have  kept  the 
faith:"  and  so  indeed  lie  did,  kept  it  inviolably, 
undauntedly  to  the  last  minute  of  his  life.  The 
6um  is,  he  was  a  man,  in  whom  the  divine  life  did 
eminently  manifest  and  display  itself;  he  lived 
pioasly  and  devoutly,  soberly  and  temperately, 
justly  and  righteously,  careful  "  always  to  keep  a 
conscience  void  of  offence  both  towards  God  and 

."  This  he  tells  us  was  his  support  under 
suffering,  this  the  foundation  of  his  confidence 
towards  God,  and  his  firm  hopes  of  happiness  in 
another  world :  "  this  is  our  rejoicing,  the  testi- 
mony of  our  conscience,  that  in  simplicity  and 
godly  sincerity  we  have  had  our  conversation  in 
the  world."* 

8.  It  is  not  the  least  instance  of  his  care  and 
fidelity  in  his  office,  that  he  did  not  only  preach 
and  plant  Christianity  in  all  places  whither  he 
came,  but  what  he  could  not  personally  do,  he  sup- 
plied by  writing.  Fourteen  epistles  he  left  upon 
record,  by  which  he  was  not  only  instrumental  in 
propagatmg  Christian  religion  at  first,  but  has 
been  useful  to  the  world  ever  since,  in  all  ages  of 
the  church.  We  have  all  along,  in  the  history  of 
his  life,  taken  particular  notice  of  them  in  their 
due  place  and  order :  we  shall  here  only  make 
some  general  observations  and  remarks  upon 
them,  and  that  as  to  the  style  and  way  wherein 
they  are  written,  tlicir  order,  and  the  subscrip- 
tions that  are  added  to  them.     For  the  apostle's 

tyle  and  manner  of  writing,  it  is  plain  and  sim- 
ple ;  and  though  not  set  off  with  the  elaborate  ar- 
tifices and  affected  additionals  of  human  elo- 
juence,  yet  grave  and  majestical,  and  that  by  the 
confession  of  his  very  enemies  ;  "  his  letters,  say 
:hey,  are  weighty  and  powerful."!  Nor  are  there 
wanting  in  them  some  strains  of  rhetoric,  which 
sufficiently  testify  his   ability  that  way,  had  he 


•2  Cor.  L  12. 


t2Cor.  X.  1. 


made  it  any  part  of  his  study  and  design.  Indeed, 
St.  Jerome  is  sometimes  too  rude  and  bold  in  his 
censures  of  St.  Paul's  style  and  character.  He 
tells  us,  that  bemg  a  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews, 
and  admirably  skilled  in  the  language  of  his  na- 
tion, he  was  greatly  defective  in  the  Greek  tongue, 
(though  a  late  great  critic  is  of  another  mind,  af- 
firming him  to  have  been  as  well,  or  better  skilled 
in  Greek  than  in  Hebrew,  or  in  Syriac,)  wherein 
he  could  not  sufficiently  express  his  conceptions 
in  a  way  becoming  the  majesty  of  his  sense  and 
the  matter  he  delivered,  nor  transmit  the  elegancy 
of  his  native  tongue  into  another  language  ;  that 
hence  he  became  obscure  and  intricate  in  his  e.x- 
pressions,  guilty  many  times  of  solecisms,  and 
scarce  tolerable  syntax,  and  that  therefore  it  was 
not  his  humility,  but  the  truth  of  the  thing  that 
made  him  say,  that  "  he  came  not  with  the  excel- 
lency of  speech,  but  in  the  power  of  God."  A 
censure  from  any  other  than  St.  Jerome  that 
would  have  been  justly  wondered  at ;  but  we  know 
the  liberty  that  he  takes  to  censure  any,  though 
the  reverence  due  to  so  great  an  apostle  might, 
one  would  think,  have  challenged  a  more  modest 
censure  at  his  hands.  However,  elsewhere  he 
cries  him  up  as  a  great  master  of  composition, 
that  as  oft  as  he  heard  him,  he  seemed  to  hear 
not  words,  but  thunder  ;  tiiat  in  all  Iiis  citations  he 
made  use  of  the  most  prudent  artifices,  using  sim- 
ple words,  and  which  seemed  to  carry  nothing  but 
plainness  along  with  them ;  but  which  way  soever 
a  man  turned,  breathed  force  and  thunder ;  he 
seems  entangled  in  his  cause,  but  catches  all 
that  comes  near  him ;  turns  his  back,  as  if  he 
intended  to  fly,  when  it  is  only  that  he  may  over- 
come. 

9.  St.  Peter  long  since  observed,  that  in  Paul's 
epistles  there  were  "  some  things  hard  to  be  un- 
derstood ;"*  which  surely  is  not  altogether  owing 
to  the  profoundness  of  his  sense,  and  the  mystc- 
riousness  of  the  subject  that  he  treats  of,  but  in 
some  degree  to  his  manner  of  expression  ;t  his 
frequent  Hebraisms,  (common  to  him  with  all  the 
holy  writers  of  the  New  Testament,)  his  peculiar 
forms  and  ways  of  speech,  his  often  inserting 
Jewish  opinions,  and  yet  but  tacitly  touching  them, 
his  using  some  words  in  a  new  and  uncommon 
sense,  but  above  aU,  his  frequent  and  abrupt  tran- 
sitions, suddenly  starting  aside  from  one  tiling  to 
another,  whereby  his  reader  is  left  at  a  loss,  not 
knowing  which  way  to  follow  him,  not  a  little  con- 
tributing to  the  perplexed  obscurity  of  his  dis- 
courses. Irenaeus  took  notice  of  old,  that  St. 
Paul  makes  frequent  use  of  these  hyperbata,  by 
reason  of  the  swiftness  of  his  arguings,  and  the 
great  fervor  and  impetus  that  was  in  him,  leaving 
many  times  the  designed  frame  and  texture  of  his 
discourse,  not  bringing  in  what  should  have  im- 
mediately connected  the  sense  and  order,  till 
some  distance  after ;  which,  indeed,  to  men  of  a 
more  nice  and  delicate  temper,  and  who  will  not 
give  themselves  leave  patiently  to  trace  out  his  rea- 


*  2  Pet.  iii.  16. 

t  This  is  not  likely  to  have  been  the  case :  Peter, 
as  a  Hebrew,  must  have  been  too  iliorouglily  im- 
bued wilh  the  custom?  and  phraseolojjy  of  liis  nation 
to  speak  in  this  manner  of  mere  idiomaiic  difficul- 
ties.—Ed. 


86 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


sonings,  must  needs  create  some  obscurity.  On- 
gen  and  St.  Jerome  sometimes  observe,  tliat  be- 
sides this  he  uses  many  of  his  native  phrases  of 
the  Cilician  dialect,  which  being  in  a  great  mea- 
sure foreign  and  exotic  to  the  ordinary  Greek,  in- 
troduces a  kind  of  strangeness  into  his  discourse, 
and  renders  it  less  intelligible.  Epiphanius  tells 
us,  that  by  these  methods  he  acted  like  a  skilful 
archer,  hitting  the  mark  before  his  adversaries 
were  aware  of  it ;  by  words  misplaced  making 
the  frame  of  his  discourse  seem  obscure  and  en- 
tangled, while  in  itself  it  was  not  only  most  true, 
but  elaborate,  and  not  difficult  to  be  understood  ; 
that  to  careless  and  trifling  readers  it  might 
sometimes  seem  dissonant  and  incoherent,  but 
to  them  that  arc  diligent,  and  will  take  their 
reason  along  with  them,  it  would  appear  full  of 
truth,  and  to  be  disj)osed  with  great  care  and 
order. 

10.  As  for  the  order  of  these  epistles,  we  have 
already  given  a  particular  account  of  the  times 
when,  and  the  places  whence  they  were  written. 
That  which  is  here  considerable,  is  the  order  ac- 
cording to  which  they  are  disposed  in  the  sacred 
canon.  Certain  it  is,  that  they  are  not  placed  ac- 
cording to  the  just  order  of  time  wherein  they  were 
written  ;  the  two  epistles  to  the  Thessalonians  be- 
ing on  all  hands  agreed  to  have  been  first  written, 
though  set  almost  last  in  order.  Most  probable 
therefore  it  is,  that  they  were  placed  according  to 
the  dignity  of  those  to  whom  they  were  sent ;  the 
reason,  why  those  to  whole  churches  have  the 
precedency  of  those  to  particular  persons  ;  and 
among  those  to  churches,  that  to  the  Romans  had 
the  first  place  and  rank  assigned  to  it,  because  of 
the  majesty  of  the  imperial  city,  and  the  eminen- 
cy  and  honorable  respect  which  that  church  de- 
rived thence  ;  and  whether  the  same  reason  do 
not  hold  in  others,  though  I  will  not  positively  as- 
sert, yet  I  think  none  wUl  over-confidently  deny. 
The  last  inquiry  concerns  the  subscriptions  added 
to  the  end  of  these  epistles ;  which,  were  they 
authentic,  would  determine  some  doubts  concern- 
ing the  time  and  place  of  their  writing.  But, 
alas,  they  are  of  no  just  value  and  authority,  not 
the  same  in  all  copies,  different  in  the  Syriac  and 
Arabic  versions,  nay,  wholly  wanting  in  some  an- 
cient Greek  copies  of  the  New  Testament ;  and 
Vv-ere  doubtless  at  first  added  at  best  upon  proba- 
ble conjectures.  When  at  any  time  they  truly 
represent  the  place  whence,  or  the  person  by 
whom  the  epistle  was  sent,  it  is  not  that  they  are 
to  be  relied  upon  in  it,  but  because  the  thing  is 
pither  intimated  or  expressed  in  the  body  of  the 
epistle.  I  shall  add  no  more  but  this  observation, 
that  St.  Paul  was  wont  to  subscribe  every  epistle 
with  his  own  hand,  "  which  is  my  token  in  every 
epistle;  so  I  write."*  Which  was  done  (says 
one  of  the  ancients)  to  prevent  impostures,  that 
Jiis  epistles  might  not  be  interpolated  and  corrupt- 
ed, and  that  if  any  vented  epistles  under  liis  name, 
the  cheat  might  be  discovered  by  the  apostle's 
own  hand  not  being  to  them  ;  and  this  brings  me 
to  the  last  consideration,  that  shall  conclude  this 
chapter. 

11.  That  there  were  some,  even  in  the  most 
early  ages  of  Christianity,  who  took  upon  tliem 

*2Thess.iii.  17. 


(for  what  ends  I  stand  not  now  to  inquire)  to 
write  books,  and  publish  them  under  the  name  of 
some  apostle,  is  notoriously  known  to  all  who  are 
the  least  conversant  in  church  antiquities.  Herein 
St.  Paul  had  his  part  and  share,  several  supposi- 
titious writings  being  fathered  and  thrust  upon 
him.  We  find  a  gospel  ascribed  by  some  of  the 
ancients  to  him,  which  surely  arose  from  no  other 
cause,  than  that  in  some  of  his  epistles  he  makes 
mention  of  "  my  gospel."  Which,  as  St.  Jerome 
observes,  can  be  meant  of  no  other  than  the  gos- 
pel of  St.  Luke,  his  constant  attendant,  and  from 
whom  he  chiefly  derived  his  intelligence.  If  he 
wrote  another  epistle  to  the  CorLntliians,  prece- 
dent to  those  two  extant  at  this  day,  as  he  seems 
to  imply  in  a  passage  in  his  first  epistle.  "I  have 
wrote  unto  you  in  an  epistle,  not  to  keep  compa- 
ny,"* &c.,  a  passage  not  conveniently  applicable 
to  any  part  eitlier  in  that  or  the  other  epistle ;  nay, 
a  verse  or  two  after,  the  first  epistle  is  directly 
opposed  to  it ;  all  that  can  be  said  in  the  case  is,f 
that  it  long  since  perished,  the  Divine  Providence 
not  seeing  it  necessary  to  be  preserved  for  the 
service  of  the  church.  Frequent  mention  there 
is  also  of  an  epistle  of  his  to  the  Laodiceans, 
grounded  upon  a  mistaken  passage  in  the  epistle 
to  the  Colossians  ;|  but  besides  that  the  apostle 
does  not  there  speak  of  an  epistle  written  to  the 
Laodiceans,  but  of  one  from  them,  Tertullian  tells 
us,  that  by  the  epistle  to  the  Laodiceans  is  meant 
that  to  the  Ephesians,  and  that  Marcion,  the 
heretic,  was  the  first  that  changed  the  title  ;  and 
therefore,  in  his  enumeration  of  St.  Paul's  epistles 
he  omits  that  to  the  Ephesians,  for  no  other  rea- 
son, doubtless,  but  that  according  to  Marcion's 
opinion,  he  had  reckoned  it  up  under  the  title  of 
that  to  the  Laodiceans.  Which  yet  is  more  clear, 
if  we  consider  that  Epiphanius,  citing  a  place 
quoted  by  Marcion  out  of  the  epistle  to  the  Laodi- 
ceans, it  is  in  the  very  same  words  found  in  that 
to  the  Ephesians  at  this  day.  However,  such  an 
epistle  is  still  extant,  forged,  no  doubt,  before  St. 
Jerome's  time,  who  tells  us,  that  it  was  read  by 
some,  but  yet  exploded  and  rejected  by  all.  Be- 
sides these  there  was  his  Revelation,  called  also 
'Ava^aTiKov,  Or  his  Asceusiou,  grounded  on  his 
ecstasy  or  rapture  into  heaven,  first  forged  by  the 
Cainian  heretics,  and  in  great  use  and  estimation 
among  the  Gnostics.  Sozomen  tells  us,  that  this 
apocalypse  was  owned  by  none  of  the  ancients, 
though  much  commended  by  some  monks  in  his 
time  ;  and  he  further  adds,  that  in  the  time  of  the 
emperor  Theodosius,  it  was  said  to  have  been 
found  in  an  underground  chest  of  marble  in  St. 
Paul's  house  at  Tarsus,  and  that  by  a  particular 
revelation.  A  story  which,  upon  inquiry,  he  found 
to  be  as  false  as  the  book  itself  was  evidently 
forged  and  spurious.  The  Acts  of  St.  Paul  are 
mentioned  both  by  Origen  and  Eusebius,  but  not 
as  writings  of  approved  and  unquestionable  credit 
and  authority.  The  epistles  that  are  said  to  have 
passed  between  St.  Paul  and  Seneca,  how  early 
soever  they  started  in  the  church,  yet  the  false- 
hood and  fabulousness  of  them  is  now  too  noto- 
riously known  to  need  any  further  account  or  de- 
scription of  them. 


1  Cor.  v.  9. 


t  Ver.  11. 


t  Col.  iv.  16. 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES, 


87 


SECTION  IX. 

The  principal  controversies  that  exercised  the 
church  in  his  time. 

Though  our  Lord  and  his  apostles  delivered  the 
Christian  religion,  especially  as  to  the  main  and 
essential  parts  of  it,  in  as  plain  a  manner  as  words 
could  express  it,  yet  were  there  men  of  perverse 
and  "  corrupt  minds,  and  reprobate  concernmg  the 
faith,"  who' from  different  causes,  some  ignorantly 
or  wilfully  mistaking  the  doctrines  of  Christianity, 
others  to  serve  iU  purposes  and  designs,  began  to 
introduce  errors  and  unsound  opinions  into  the 
church,  and  to  debauch  the  minds  of  men  from 
the  simplicity  of  the  gospel ;  hereby  disquieting 
the  thoughts,  and  alienating  the  affections  of  men 
and  disturbing  the  peace  and  order  of  the  church. 
The  first  ringleader  of  this  heretical  crew  was 
Simon  Magus,  who  not  being  able  to  attain  his 
ends  of  the  apostles,  by  getting  a  power  to  con- 
fer miraculous  gifts,  whereby  he  designed  to 
greaten  and  enrich  himself,  resolved  to  be  re- 
venged of  them,  scattering  the  m.ost  poisonous 
tares  among  the  good  wheat  that  they  had  sown, 
bringing  in  the  most  pernicious  principles  ;  and  as 
the  nafural  consequent  of  that,  patronizing  the 
most  debauched  villainous  practices  ;  and  this  un- 
der a  pretence  of  still  being  Christians.  To  enu- 
merate the  several  dogmata  and  damnable  here- 
sies, first  broached  by  Simon,  and  then  vented 
and  propagated  by  his  disciples  and  followers,  who 
though  passing  under  different  titles,  yet  all  cen- 
tered at  last  in  the  name  of  Gnostics,  a  term 
which  we  shall  sometimes  use  for  conveniency, 
(though  it  took  not  place  till  after  St.  Paul's  time) 
were  as  needless  as  it  is  alien  to  my  purpose.  I 
shall  only  take  notice  of  a  few  of  more  signal  re- 
mark, and  such  as  St.  Paul  in  his  epistles  does 
eminently  reflect  upon. 

2.  Amongst  the  opinions  and  principles  of  Si- 
mon and  his  followers,  this  was  one,  that  God  did 
not  create  the  world,  but  that  it  was  made  by  an- 
gels. That  divine  honors  were  due  to  them,  and 
that  they  were  to  be  adored  as  subordinate  medi- 
ators between  God  and  us.  This  our  apostle  saw 
growing  up  apace,  and  struck  betimes  at  the  root 
in  that  early  caution  he  gave  to  the  Colossians,  to 
"let  no  man  beguile  them  in  a  voluntary  humility 
and  worshipping  of  angels,  intruding  into  those 
things  which  he  hath  not  seen,  vainly  puffed  up 
by  his  fleshly  mind  ;  and  not  holding  the  head,"* 
i.  e.  thereby  disclaiming  Christ,  the  head  of  the 
church.  But,  notwithstanding  this  warning,  this 
error  still  continued  and  spread  itself  in  tliose 
parts  for  several  ages,  till  expressly  condemned  by 
the  Laodicean  council.  Nay,  Theodoret  tells 
us,  there  were  still  oratories  erected  to  the  arch- 
angel Michael  in  tliose  places,  wherein  they  were 
wont  to  meet  and  pray  to  angels.  Another  Gnos- 
tic principle  was,  that  men  might  freely  and  in- 
differently eat  what  had  been  offered  in  sacrifice 
to  idols  ;  yea,  sacrifice  to  the  idol  itself,  it*  being 
lawful  confidently  to  abjure  the  faith  in  time  of 
persecution.  The  first  part  whereof  St.  Paul  does 
largely  and  frequently  discuss  up  and  down  his 
epistles  ;  the  latter,  wherein  the  sting  and  poison 


03 


Col.  ii.  18. 


(22) 


was  more  immediately  couched,  was  craftily 
adapted  to  those  times  of  suffering,  and  greedily 
swallowed  by  many,  hereby  drawn  into  apostacy. 
Agamst  this  our  apostle  antidotes  the  Christians, 
especially  the  Jewish  converts,  among  whom  the 
Gnostics  had  mixed  themselves,  that  they  would 
not  suffer  themselves  to  be  drawn  aside"by"an 
evil  heart  of  unbelief,  ui  departing  from  the'living 
God  :"*  that  notwithstanding  sufferings  and  per- 
secutions, they  would  "  hold  fast  the  profession  of 
the  faith  without  wavering,  not  forsaking  the  as- 
sembling of  themselves  together,  as  the  manner 
of  some  is,"  (the  Gnostic  heretics  ;)  remembering 
how  severely  God  has  threatened  apostates,  that 
"  if  any  man  draw  back,  his  soul  shall  have  no 
pleasure  in  him,"  and  "  what  a  fearful  thing  it  is 
thus  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God."f 

3.  But  besides  this,  Simon  and  his  followers 
made  the  gate  yet  wider,  maintaining  a  universal 
licence  to  sin ;  that  men  were  free  to  do  wiiatever 
they  had  a  mind  to  ;  that  to  press  the  observance 
of  good  works  was  a  bondage  inconsistent  with 
the  liberty  of  the  gospel ;  that  so  men  did  but  be- 
lieve in  him  and  his  dear  Helen,J  they  had  no  rea- 
son to  regard  law  or  prophets,  but  might  do  what 
they  pleased,  they  should  be  saved  by  his  grace, 
and  not  according  to  good  works.  Irenseus  adds, 
(what  a  man  might  easily  have  inferred,  had  he 
never  been  told  it,)  that  they  lived  in  all  lust  and 
filthiness  :  as  indeed  whoever  will  take  the  pains 
to  peruse  the  account  that  is  given  of  them,  will 
find  that  they  wallowed  in  the  most  horrible  and 
unheard  of  bestialities.  These  persons  St.  Paul 
docs  as  particularly  describe,  as  if  he  had  named 
them,  having  once  and  again  with  tears  warned 
the  Philippians  of  them,  that  "  they  were  enemies 
of  the  cross  of  Christ,  whose  end  is  destruction, 
whose  God  is  their  belly,  and  whose  glory  is  in 
their  shame,  who  mind  earthly  things. "||  And 
elsewhere  to  tlie  same  effect,  that  they  would 
"mark  them  that  caused  divisions  and  offences, 
contrary  to  the  doctrine  which  they  had  learned, 
and  avoid  them  ;  for  they  that  were  such,  served 
not  our  Lord  Jesus  Christy  but  their  own  belly,  by 
good  words  and  fair  speeches  deceiving  the  hearts 
of  the  simple."^  This  I  doubt  not  he  had  in  his 
eye,  when  he  gave  those  caveats  to  the  Ephe- 
sians,  that  "fornication,  and  all  uncleanness,  and 
inordinate  desires,  should  not  be  once  named 
amongst  them,  as  became  saints,  nor  filthiness 
nor  unclean  talking  ;"  being  assured  by  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine,  that""  no  whoremonger,  nor  unclean 
person,"  «fec.  could  be  saved;  that  therefore, 
"  they  should  let  no  man  deceive  them  with  vain 
words  ;  these  being  the  very  things  for  which  the 
wrath  of  God  came  upon  the  children  of  disobe- 
dience ;"  and  accordingly  it  concerned  them,  "not 
to  be  partakers  with  them."ir  Plainly  intimating, 
that  this  impure  Gnostic  crew  (whose  doctrines 
and  practices  he  does  here  no  less  truly  than  lively 
represent)  had  begun  by  crafty  and  insinuative 
arts  to  screw  itself  into  the  church  of  ICphesus, 
cheatmg  the  people  with  subtile  and  flattering  in- 


*  Heb.  iii.  12.  t  Heb.  x.  23,25,  31,  38. 

t  His  mistress,  in  whom  he  said  dwelt  the  original 
seed  of  all  human  souls. — Ed. 

II  Phil.  iii.  17,  18.  §  Rom.  xvi.  17,  18. 

H  Eph.  V.  3,  4,  &.C. 


88 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


sinuations,  probably  persuading  them  that  these 
things  were  but  indifferent,  and  a  part  of  that 
Christian  hberty,  wherein  the  gospel  had  instated 
them.  By  these  and  such  like  principles  and 
practices  (many  whereof  might  be  reckoned  up) 
they  corrupted  the  faitli  of  Christians,  distract- 
ed the  peace  of  the  church,  stained  and  defiled 
the  honor  and  purity  of  the  best  religion  in  the 
world. 

4.  But  the  greatest  and  most  famous  contro- 
versy that  of  all  others  in  those  times  exercised 
the  Christian  church,  was  concerning  the  obliga- 
tion that  Christians  were  under  to  observe  the 
law  of  Moses,  as  necessary  to  their  justification 
and  salvation.  Which  because  a  matter  of  so 
much  importance,  and  which  takes  up  so  great  a 
part  of  St.  Paul's  epistles,  and  the  clearing  where- 
of will  reflect  a  great  light  upon  them,  we  shall 
consider  more  at  large  :  in  order  whereunto  three 
things  especially  are  to  be  inquired  after,  that  is, 
the  true  state  of  the  controversy,  what  the  apos- 
/les  determined  in  this  matter,  and  what  respect 
the  most  material  passages  in  St.  Paul's  epistles, 
about  justification  and  salvation,  bear  to  this  con- 
troversy. First,  we  shall  inquire  into  the  true 
state  and  nature  of  the  controversy  ;  and  for  this 
we  are  to  know,  that  when  Christianity  was  pub- 
hshed  to  the  world,  it  mainly  prevailed  among  the 
Jews,  they  being  generally  the  first  converts  to 
the  faith.  But  having  been  brought  up  in  a  mighty 
reverence  and  veneration  for  the  Mosaic  institu- 
tions, and  looking  upon  that  economy  as  imme- 
diately contrived  by  God  himself,  delivered  by  an- 
gels, settled  by  their  great  master,  Moses,  received 
A'ith  the  most  solemn  and  sensible  appearances  of 
divine  power  and  majesty,  ratified  by  miracles, 
and  entertained  by  all  their  forefathers  as  the  pe- 
cuhar  prerogative  of  that  nation,  for  so  many  ages 
and  generations,  they  could  not  easily  be  brought 
off  from  it,  or  behold  the  gospel  but  with  an  evil 
eye,  as  an  enemy  that  came  to  supplant  and  un- 
dermine this  ancient  and  excellent  institution. — 
Nay,  those  of  them  that  were  prevailed  upon  by 
the  convictive  power  and  evidence  of  the  gospel, 
to  embrace  the  Christian  religion,  yet  could  not 
get  over  the  prejudice  of  education,  but  must  still 
continue  their  observance  of  those  legal  rites  and 
customs  wherein  they  had  been  brought  up.  And, 
not  content  with  this,  they  began  magisterially  to 
impose  them  upon  others,  even  all  the  Gentile  con- 
verts, as  that  without  which  they  could  never  be 
accepted  by  God  in  this,  or  rewarded  by  him  in 
another  world.  This  controversy  was  first  started 
at  Antioch,  a  place  not  more  remarkable  for  its 
own  greatness  than  the  vast  numbers  of  Jews  that 
dwelt  there,  enjoying  great  immunities  granted 
them  by  the  king  of  Syria.  For  after  that  Antio- 
chus  Epiphanes  had  destroyed  Jerusalem,  and  laid 
waste  the  temple,  the  Jews  generally  flocked 
hither,  where  they  were  courteously  entertained 
by  his  successors,  the  spoils  of  the  temple  restored 
to  them  for  the  enriching  and  adorning  of  their 
synagogue,  and  they  made,  equally  with  the 
Greeks,  freemen  of  that  city ;  by  which  means 
their  numbers  uicreased  daily,  partly  by  the  re- 
sort of  others  from  Judaea,  partly  by  a  numerous 
conversion  of  proselytes,  wliom  they  gained  over 
to  their  religion.  Accordingly  Christianity,  at  its 
first  setting  out,  found  a  very  successful  entertain- 


ment in  this  place.  And  hither  it  was  that  some 
of  the  Jewish  converts,  being  come  down  from 
Jerusalem,  taught  the  Christians,  that  unless  they 
observed  circumcision,  and  the  whole  law  of  Mo- 
ses, they  could  not  be  saved.*  Paul  and  Barna- 
bas, then  at  Antioch,  observing  the  ill  influence 
that  this  had  upon  the  minds  of  men,  (disturbing 
many  at  present,  and  causing  the  apostacy  of 
some  afterwards,)  began  vigorously  to  oppose  this 
growing  error  ;  but  not  able  to  conjure  down  this 
spirit  that  had  been  raised  up,  they  were  des- 
patched by  the  church  at  Antioch  to  consult  the 
apostles  and  governors  at  Jerusalem  about  this 
matter :  whither  being  come,  they  found  the  quar- 
rel espoused,  among  others,  by  some  converts  of 
the  sect  of  the  Pharisees,  (of  all  others  the  most 
zealous  assertors  of  the  Mosaic  rites,)  stiflly  main- 
taining that  besides  the  gospel,  or  the  Christian 
religion,  it  was  necessary  for  all  converts,  whether 
Jews  or  Gentiles,  to  keep  to  circumcision  and  the 
law  of  Moses.  So  that  the  state  of  the  contro- 
versy between  the  orthodox  and  these  Judaizing 
Christians  was  plainly  this : — Whether  circum- 
cision and  the  observation  of  the  Mosaic  law,  or 
only  the  belief  and  practice  of  Christianity,  be  ne- 
cessary to  salvation "?  The  latter  part  of  the  ques- 
tion was  maintained  by  the  apostles  ;  the  former 
asserted  by  the  Judaizing  zealots,  making  the  law 
of  Moses  equally  necessary  with  the  law  of  Christ ; 
and  no  doubt  pretending  that  whatever  these  men 
might  preach  at  Antioch,  yet  the  apostles  were  of 
another  mind  ;  whose  sentence  and  resolution  it 
was  therefore  thought  necessary  should  be  imme- 
diately known. 

5.  We  are  then  next  to  consider  what  determi- 
nation the  apostolic  synod  at  Jerusalem  made  of 
this  matter ;  for  a  council  of  the  apostles  and 
rulers  being  immediately  convened,  and  the  ques- 
tion, by  Paul  and  Barnabas,  brought  before  them, 
the  case  was  canvassed  and  debated  on  all  hands ; 
and  at  last  it  was  resolved  upon  by  their  unani- 
mous sentence  and  suffrage,  that  the  Gentile  con- 
verts were  under  no  obligation  to  the  Jewish  law  ; 
that  God  had  abundantly  declared  his  acceptance 
of  them,  though  strangers  to  the  Mosaical  econo- 
my ;  that  they  were  sufficiently  secured  of  their 
happiness  and  salvation  by  the  grace  of  the  gospel, 
wherein  they  might  be  justified  and  saved  without 
circumcision  or  legal  ceremonies,  a  yoke  from 
which  Christ  had  now  set  us  free.  But  because 
the  apostles  did  not  think  it  prudent  in  these  cir- 
cumstances, too  much  to  stir  the  exasperated  hu- 
mor of  the  Jews,  (lest  by  straining  the  string  too 
high  at  first  they  should  endanger  their  revolting 
from  the  faith,)  therefore  they  thought  of  some 
indulgence  in  the  case  ;  St.  James,  then  bishop  of 
Jerusalem,  and  probably  president  of  the  council, 
propounding  this  expedient,  that  for  the  present 
the  Gentile  converts  should  so  far  only  comply 
with  the  humor  of  the  Jews,  as  to  "  abstain  from 
meats  oflered  to  idols,  from  blood,  from  things 
strangled,  and  from  fornication."  Let  us  a  little 
more  distinctly  survey  the  ingredients  of  this  im- 
position. "Meats  offered  to  idols,"  or  as  St.  James 
in  his  discourse  styles  them  oKmyijfiaTa  toiv  tiim\b>v, 
"the  pollution  of  idols,"  the  word  aXiayrtjiaTa,  pro- 
perly denoting  the  meats  that  were  polluted  by 


♦  Acts  XV.  1. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


69 


being  consecrated  to  the  idol.  Thus  we  read  of 
"  poUuted  bread  upon  God's  altar ;"  i.  e.  such 
probably  as  had  been  before  ofFercd  to  idols.  So 
that  these  meats  offered  to  the  idols  were  parts  of 
those  sacrifices  which  the  heathens  oifered  to  their 
gods,  of  the  remaining  portions  whereof  they 
usually  made  a  feast  in  the  idol-temple,  inviting 
their  friends  thither,  and  sometimes  their  Chris- 
tian friends  to  come  along  with  them.  This  God 
had  particularly  forbidden  the  Jews  by  the  law  of 
Moses  :  "  Thou  shalt  worship  no  other  God ;  lest 
thou  make  a  covenant  with  the  inhabitants  of  the 
land,  and  go  a  whoring  after  their  gods,  and  do 
sacrifice  unto  their  gods,  and  one  call  thee,  and 
thou  eat  of  his  sacrifice."*  And  the  not  observ- 
ing of  this  prohibition  cost  the  Jews  dear,  when 
invited  by  the  Moabites  to  the  sacrifices  of  their 
gods,  "  they  did  eat  with  them,  and  bowed  down 
to  their  gods."t  Sometimes  these  remaining  por- 
tions were  sold  for  common  use  in  the  shambles, 
and  bought  by  Christians  ;  both  which  gave  great 
offence  to  the  zealous  Jews,  who  looked  upon  it  as 
a  participation  in  the  idolatries  of  the  heathen  : 
of  both  which  our  apostle  discourses  elsewhere  at 
large,  pressing  Christians  to  "  abstain  from  idola- 
try," both  as  to  the  idol-feasts,  and  the  remainders 
of  the  sacrifice  :  from  the  former,  as  more  imme- 
diately unlawful ;  from  the  latter,  the  sacrificial 
meats  sold  in  the  shambles,  as  giving  offence  to 
weak  and  undiscerning  Christians.  For  though 
in  itself  "  an  idol  was  nothing  in  the  world,"  and 
consequently  no  honor  could  be  done  it  by  eating 
what  was  offered  to  it ;  yet  was  it  more  prudent 
and  reasonable  to  abstain,  partly  because  flesh- 
meats  have  no  peculiar  excellency  in  them  to  com- 
mend us  to  God  ;  partly  because  all  mea  not  being 
alike  instructed  in  the  knowledge  of  theur  Uberty, 
their  minds  might  be  easily  puzzled,  their  con- 
sciences entangled,  the  Gentiles  by  this  means 
Iiardened  in  their  idolatrous  practices,  and  weak 
brethren  offended ;  besides,  though  these  things 
were  in  their  own  nature  indifferent,  and  in  a 
man's  own  power  to  do  or  to  let  alone,  yet  was  it 
not  convenient  to  make  our  liberty  a  snare  to 
others,  and  to  venture  upon  what  was  lawful, 
when  it  was  plainly  unedifying  and  inexpedient. 
"  From  blood ;"  this  God  forbad  of  old,  and  that 
some  time  before  the  giving  of  the  law  by  Moses, 
that  "  they  should  not  eat  the  flesh  with  the  blood, 
which  was  the  hfe  thereof."!  The  mystery  of 
which  prohibition  was  to  instruct  men  in  the  du- 
ties of  mercy  and  tenderness  even  to  brute  beasts  ; 
but  (as  appears  from  what  follows  after)  primarily 
designed  by  God  as  a  solemn  fence  and  bar  against 
murder,  and  the  effusion  of  human  blood :  a  law 
afterwards  renewed  upon  the  Jews,  and  inserted 
into  the  body  of  the  Mosaic  precepts.  "  From 
things  strangled  ;"  that  is,  that  they  should  ab- 
stain from  eating  of  those  beasts  that  died  without 
letting  blood,  where  the  blood  was  not  thoroughly 
drained  from  them  ;  a  prohibition  grounded  upon 
the  reason  of  the  former,  and  respecting  a  thing 
greatly  abominable  to  the  Jews,  being  so  express- 
ly foi-bidden  in  their  law.il  But  it  was  not  more 
offensive  to  the  Jews  than  acceptable  to  the  Gen- 
tiles, who  were  wont,  with  great  art  and  care,  to 


strangle  living  creatures,  that  they  might  stew  or 
dress  them  with  their  blood  in  tliem,  as  a  point  of 
curious  and  exquisite  delicacy.  This  and  the 
foregoing  prohibition,  abstinence  from  blood,  died 
not  with  the  apostles,  nor  were  buried  with  other 
Jewish  rites,  but  were  inviolably  observed  for  seve- 
ral ages  m  the  Christian  church,  as  we  have  else- 
where observed  from  the  writers  of  those  times. 
Lastly,  "From  fornication:"  this  was  a  thing 
commonly  practised  in  the  heathen  world,  which 
generally  beheld  simple  fornication  as  no  sin,  and 
that  it  was  lawful  for  persons,  not  engaged  in 
wedlock,  to  made  use  of  women  that  exposed  them- 
selves ;  a  custom  justly  offensive  to  the  Jews,  and 
therefore  to  cure  two  evils  at  once,  the  apostles 
here  solemnly  declare  against  it.  Not  that  they 
thought  it  a  thing  indifferent,  as  the  rest  of  the 
prohibited  rites  were  ;  for  it  is  forbidden  by  the 
natural  Jaw,  (as  contrary  to  that  chasteness  and 
modesty,  that  order  and  comeliness  which  God 
has  planted  in  the  minds  of  men,)  but  they  joined 
it  in  the  same  class  with  them,  because  the  Gen- 
tiles looked  upon  it  as  a  thing  lawful  and  indiffer- 
ent. It  had  been  expressly  forbidden  by  the 
Mosaic  law  :  "  There  shall  be  no  whore  of  the 
daughters  of  Israel  ;"*  and  because  the  heathens 
had  generally  thrown  down  this  fence  and  bar  set 
by  the  law  of  nature,  it  was  here  again  repaired 
by  the  first  planters  of  Christianity,  as  by  St.  Paul 
elsewhere  :  "  Ye  know  what  commandments  we 
gave  you  by  the  Lord  Jesus  ;  for  this  is  the  will 
of  God,  even  your  sanctification,  that  ye  should 
abstain  from  fornication  ;  that  every  one  of  you 
should  know  how  to  possess  his  vessel  in  sanctifica- 
tion and  honor,  not  in  the  lust  of  concupiscence, 
even  as  the  GentUes,  which  knew  not  God."t — 
Though,  after  all,  I  must  confess  myself  inchnable 
to  embrace  Heinsius's  ingenious  conjecture,  that 
by  TTopvHa,  fornication,  we  are  here  to  understand 
TTopvtji  fitaduiiJia,  "the  harlots'  hire,"  or  the  TropviKrj 
^vata,  the  offerings  which  those  persons  were  wont 
to  make.  For  among  the  Gentiles  nothing  was 
more  usual,  than  for  the  common  women  that 
prostituted  themselves  to  lewd  embraces  (those 
especially  that  attended  at  the  temples  of  Venus) 
to  dedicate  some  part  of  their  gain,  and  present 
it  to  the  gods.  Athanasius  has  a  passage  very 
express  to  this  purpose.  "The  women  of  old 
were  wont  to  sit  in  the  idol  temples  of  Phcenicia, 
and  to  dedicate  the  gain  which  they  got  by  the 
prostitution  of  their  bodies  as  a  kind  of  first-fruits 
to  the  deities  of  the  place  ;  supposing  that  by  for- 
nication they  should  pacify  their  goddess,  and  by 
tliis  means  render  her  favorable  and  propitious  to 
them."  Where  it  is  plain  he  us'^s  nopvtia,  or  for- 
nication, in  this  very  sense,  for  that  gain  or  re- 
ward of  it  which  they  consecrated  to  their  gods. 
Some  such  thing  Solomon  had  in  his  eye,  when 
he  brings  in  the  harlot  thus  courting  the  young 
man  :  "  I  have  peace-offerings  with  me,  this  day 
have  I  paid  my  vows."|  These  presents  were 
either  made  in  specie,  the  very  money  thus  un- 
righteously gotten,  or  in  sacrifices  bought  with  it, 
and  offered  at  the  temple,  the  remainders  whereof 
were  taken  and  sold  among  the  ordinary  sacrificial 
portions.     This  as  it  holds  the  nearest  corrcs- 




*  Exod.  xxxiv.  14,  15.        t  Numb.  xxiv.  2,  4.        I 
t  Gen.  ix.  4.  II  Lev.  xvii.  10,  11, 12,  &c.       ' 


♦  Deut.  xxiii.  17.        i  1  Thess.  iv.  2,  3, 4,  5. 
t  Prov.  vii.  14. 


90 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


pondence  with  the  rest  of  the  rites  here  forbidden, 
so  could  it  not  choose  but  be  a  mighty  scandal  to 
the  Jews,  it  being  so  particularly  prohibited  m 
their  law,  "  Thou  shalt  not  bring  the  hire  of  a 
whore  into  the  house  of  the  Lord  thy  God  for  any 
vow,  for  it  is  an  abomination  to  the  Lord."* 

6.  These  prohibitions  here  laid  upon  the  Gen- 
tiles, were  by  the  apostles  intended  only  for  a  tem- 
porary compliance  with  the  Jewish  converts,  till 
they  could,  by  degrees,  be  brought  off  from  their 
stiffness  and  obstinacy  ;  and  then  the  reason  of 
the  thing  ceasing,  the  obligation  to  it  must  needs 
cease  and  fail.  Nay,  we  may  observe  that  even 
while  the  apostolical  decree  lasted  in  its  greatest 
force  and  power,  in  those  places  where  there  were 
few  or  no  Jewish  converts,  the  apostles  did  not 
stick  to  give  leave,  that  except  in  case  of  scandal, 
any  kind  of  meats,  even  the  portions  of  the  idol- 
sacrifices  might  be  indifferently  bought  and  taken 
by  Christians  as  well  as  heathens.  These  were 
all  which  in  order  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Jews, 
and  for  tiie  present  peace  of  the  church,  the 
apostles  thought  necessary  to  require  of  the  con- 
verted Gentiles ;  but  that  for  all  the  rest  they  were 
perfectly  free  from  legal  observances,  obliged  only 
to  the  commands  of  Christianity.  So  that  the 
apostolical  decision  that  was  made  of  this  matter 
was  this  : — "  That  (besides  the  temporary  obser- 
vation of  those  few  indifferent  rites  before  men- 
tioned) the  belief  and  practice  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion was  perfectly  sufficient  to  salvation,  without 
circumcision  and  the  observation  of  the  Mosaic 
law."  This  synodical  determination  allayed  the 
controversy  for  a  while,  being  joyfully  received  by 
the  Gentile-Christians.  But,  alas,  the  Jewish  zeal 
began  again  to  ferment  and  spread  itself;  they 
could  not  with  any  patience  endure  to  see  their 
beloved  Moses  deserted,  and  those  venerable  insti- 
tutions trodden  down,  and  therefore  labored  to 
keep  np  their  credit,  and  still  to  assert  them  as 
necessary  to  salvation.  Than  which  nothing  creat- 
ed St.  Paul  greater  trouble  at  every  turn,  as  he 
was  thereby  forced  to  contend  against  these  Ju- 
daizing  teachers  almost  in  every  church  where  he 
came  ;  as  appears  by  that  great  part  that  they 
bear  in  all  his  epistles,  especially  tliat  to  the  Ro- 
mans and  Galatians,  where  this  leaven  had  most 
diffused  itself,  whom  the  better  to  undeceive,  he 
discourses  at  large  of  the  nature  and  institution, 
the  end  and  design,  the  anticpiating  and  abolishing 
of  that  Mosaic  covenant,  which  these  men  laid  so 
much  stress  and  weight  upon. 

7.  Hence  then  we  pass  to  the  third  thing  con- 
siderable for  the  clearing  of  this  matter,  which  is 
to  show,  that  the  main  passages  in  St.  Paul's 
epistles,  concerning  justification  and  salvation, 
have  an  immediate  reference  to  this  controversy. 
But  before  we  enter  upon  that,  something  must 
necessarily  be  premised  for  the  explicating  some 
terms  and  phrases  frequently  used  by  our  apostle 
in  this  question  ;  these  two' especially — what  he 
means  by  law,  and  what  by  faith.  By  law,  then. 
It  18  plain  lie  usually  understands  the  Jewish  law, 
wliich  was  a  complex  body  of  laws,  containing 
moral,  ceremonial,  and  judicial  precepts,  each  of 
whicii  had  its  use  and  office  as  a  great  instrument 
of  duty ;  the  judicial  laws  being  peculiar  statutes 


Deut.  xxiii.  18. 


accommodated  to  the  state  of  the  Jews'  common- 
wealth, as  all  civil  constitutions,  restrained  men 
from  the  external  acts  of  sin  ;  the  ceremonial  laws 
came  somewhat  nearer,  and  besides  their  typical 
relation  to  the  evangehcal  state,  by  external  and 
symbolical  representments,  signified  and  exhibited 
that  spiritual  impurity,  from  which  men  were  to 
abstain  :  the  moral  laws,  founded  in  the  natural 
notions  of  men's  minds  concerning  good  and  evil, 
directly  urged  men  to  duty,  and  prohibited  their 
prevarications.  These  three  made  up  the  entire 
code  and  pandects  of  the  Jewish  statutes  ;  all  of 
which  our  apostle  comprehends  under  the  general 
notion  of  "the  law,"  and  not  the  moral  law  singly 
and  separately  considered,  in  which  sense  it  never 
appears  that  the  Jews  expected  justification  and 
salvation  by  it ;  nay,  rather  that  they  looked  for 
it  merely  from  the  observance  of  the  ritual  and 
ceremonial  law;  so  that  the  moral  law  is  no 
further  considered  by  him  in  this  question,  than 
as  it  made  up  a  part  of  the  Mosaical  constitution, 
of  that  national  and  political  covenant  whicli  God 
made  with  the  Jews  at  Mount  Sinai.  Hence,  the 
apostle  all  along  m  his  discourses  constantly  op- 
poses the  law  and  the  gospel,  and  the  observation 
of  the  one  to  the  belief  and  practice  of  the  other  ; 
which  surely  he  would  not  have  done,  had  he  sim- 
ply intended  the  moral  law,  it  being  more  express- 
ly incorporated  into  the  gospel  than  ever  it  was 
into  the  law  of  Moses.  And  that  the  apostle  does 
thus  oppose  the  law  and  gospel,  might  be  made 
evident  from  the  continued  series  of  his  discours- 
es ;  but  a  few  places  shall  suffice.  "  By  what  law 
(says  the  apostle)  is  boasting  excluded  ?  by  the 
law  of  works  V*  i.  e.  by  the  Mosaic  law,  in  whose 
peculiar  privileges  and  prerogatives  the  Jews  did 
strangely  flatter  and  pride  themselves  1  "  Nay, 
but  by  the  law  of  faith,"f  i.  e.  by  the  gospel,  or 
the  evangelical  way  of  God's  dealing  with  us. 
And  elsewhere  giving  an  account  of  this  very  con- 
troversy between  the  Jewish  and  Gentile  converts, 
he  first  opposes  their  persons,  "Jews  by  nature," 
and  "  sinners  of  the  Gentiles ;"  and  then  infers, 
"that  a  man  is  not  justified  by  the  works  of  the 
law,"  by  those  legal  observances  whereby  the 
Jews  expected  to  be  justified,  "  but  by  the  faith  of 
Christ,"  by  a  hearty  behef  of,  and  compliance  with 
that  way  which  Christ  has  introduced;  for  "by 
the  works  of  the  law,"  by  legal  obedience,  "  no 
flesh,"  neither  Jew  nor  Gentile,  "shall"  now  "be 
justified."  "  Fain  would  I  learn,  whether  you  re- 
ceived the  Spirit  by  the  works  of  the  law,  or  by 
the  hearing  of  faith  !"|  That  is,  whether  you 
became  partakers  of  the  miraculous  powers  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  while  you  continued  under  the  legal 
dispensation,  or  since  you  embraced  the  gospel, 
and  the  faith  of  Christ ;  and  speaking  afterwards 
of  the  state  of  the  Jews  before  the  revelation  or 
the  gospel,  says  he,  "  before  faith  came,  we  were 
kept  under  the  law  ;"i|  i.  e.  before  the  gospel  came, 
we  were  kept  under  the  discipline  of  the  legal 
economy,  "  shut  up  unto  the  faith,"  reserved  for 
the  discovery  of  the  evangelical  dispensation, 
"  whicli  should  afterwards"  (in  its  due  time)  "  be 
revealed"  to  the  world.  This  in  the  following 
chapter  he  discourses  more  at  large.     "  Tell  me, 

*  Rom.  iii.  27.      t  Gal.  ii.  15,  16.    t  Gal.  iii.  2-5 
II  Ver.  23. 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


91 


ye  that  desire  to  be  under  the  law  ;"*  i.  e.  Ye 
Jews  that  so  fondly  dote  upon  the  legal  state,  "  do 
ye  not  hear  the  law  V  i.  e.  understand  what  your 
own  law  does  so  clearly  intimate  f  and  he  then 
goes  on  to  unriddle  what  was  wrapped  up  in  the 
famous  allegory  of  Abraham's  two  sons  by  his 
two  wives ;  the  one  Ishmael,  born  of  Hagar,  the 
bond-woman,  who  denoted  the  Jev\'ish  covenant 
made  at  Mount  Sinai,  which  according  to  the  re- 
presentation of  her  condition  was  a  servile  state ; 
the  other,  Isaac,  born  of  Sarah,  the  free-woman, 
was  the  son  of  the  promise,  denoting  "  Jerusalem 
that  is  above,  and  is  free,  the  mother  of  us  all ;" 
i.  e.  the  state  and  covenant  of  the  gospel,  where- 
by all  Christians,  as  the  spiritual  children  of  Abra- 
ham, are  set  free  from  the  bondage  of  the  Mosaic 
dispensation.  By  all  which  it  is  evident,  that  by 
law  and  the  works  of  the  law,  in  this  controversy, 
the  apostle  understands  the  law  of  Moses,  and  that 
obedience  which  the  legal  dispensation  required 
at  their  hands. 

8.  We  are  secondly  to  inquire,  what  the  apostle 
means  by  faith ;  and  he  commonly  uses  it  two 
ways.  1.  More  generally  for  the  gospel,  or  that 
evangelical  way  of  justLlcation  and  salvation  which 
Christ  has  brought  in,  in  opposition  to  circumci- 
sion, and  the  observation  of  those  rites  by  which 
the  Jews  expected  to  be  justified  ;  and  this  is  plain 
from  the  preceding  opposition,  where  faith,  as  de- 
noting the  gospel,  is  frequently  opposed  to  the  law 
of  Moses.  2.  Faith  is  taken  more  particularly  for 
a  practical  belief,  or  such  an  assent  to  the  evange- 
lical revelation  as  produces  a  sincere  obedience  to 
the  laws  of  it ;  and  indeed,  as  concerned  in  this 
matter,  is  usually  taken,  not  for  this  or  that  single 
virtue,  but  for  the  entire  condition  of  the  new  cove- 
nant, as  comprehending  all  that  duty  that  it  re- 
quires of  us ;  than  which  nothing  can  be  more 
plain  and  evident:  "in  Christ  Jesus,"  i.  e.  under 
the  gospel,  "  neither  circumcision  availeth  any 
thing,  nor  uncircumcision,"  it  is  all  one  to  justifi- 
cation, whether  a  man  be  circumcised  or  no ;  what 
then  ]  "but  faith,  which  worketh  by  love  ;"t  which 
afterwards  he  explains  thus,  "in  Christ  Jesus 
neither  circumcision  availeth  any  thing,  nor  uncir- 
cumcision, but  a  new  creature  ;"f  a  renewed  and 
divine  temper  of  mind,  and  a  new  course  and  state 
of  life.  And  lest  all  this  should  not  be  thought 
plain  enough,  he  elsewhere  tells  us,  that  "  circum- 
cision is  nothing,  and  uncircumcision  is  nothing  ; 
but  the  keeping  the  commandments  of  God."ll 
From  which  places  there  needs  no  skill  to  infer, 
that  that  faith  whereby  we  are  justified,  contains 
in  it  a  new  disposition  and  state  both  of  heart 
and  life,  and  an  observation  of  the  lav/s  of  Christ ; 
in  which  respect  the  apostle  does,  in  the  very  same 
verse,  expound  "  believing,"  by  "  obeying  of  the 
gospel."}  Such,  he  assures  us,  was  that  very  faith 
by  which  Abraham  was  justified,  who,  against  all 
probabilities  of  reason,  believed  in  God's  promise  ; 
"  he  staggered  not  at  the  promise  of  God  through 
unbelief,  but  was  strong,"  &c.  that  is,  lie  so  firmly 
believed  what  God  had  promised,  that  he  gave 
him  the  glory  of  his  truth  and  faithfulness,  his  in- 
finite power  and  ability  to  do  all  things.  And  how 
did  he  that !    By  acting  suitably  in  a  way  of  entire 


*  Gal.  iv.  21,  et  seq.      t  Gal.  v.  G.      t  Gal.  vi.  15. 
II  1  Cor.  vii.  19.  §  Kom.  x.  IG 


resignation,  and  sincere  obedience  to  the  divine 
will  and  pleasure ;  so  the  apostle  elsewhere  more 
expressly,  "  by  faith  he  obeyed,  and  went  out,  not 
knowing  whither  he  went."*  This  faith  (he  tells 
us)  "was  imputed  to  Abraham  for  righteousness  ;"t 
that  is,  God,  by  virtue  of  the  new  covenant  made 
in  Christ,  was  graciously  pleased  to  look  upon  this 
obedience  (though  in  itself  imperfect)  as  that  for 
which  he  accounted  him,  and  would  deal  with  him 
as  a  just  and  a  righteous  man.  And  upon  this  ac- 
count we  find  Abraham's  faith  opposed  to  a  per- 
fect and  unsinning  obedience ;  for  thus  the  apostle 
tells  us,  that  "  Abraham  was  justified  by  faith,"J 
in  opposition  to  his  being  justified  by  such  an  ab- 
solute and  complete  obedience,  as  might  have  ena- 
bled him  to  challenge  the  reward  by  tiie  strict  law!=! 
of  justice  ;  whereas  now  his  being  pardoned  and 
accepted  by  God  in  the  way  of  a  mean  and  imper- 
fect obedience,  it  could  not  claim  impunity,  much 
less  a  reward,  but  must  be  entirely  owing  to  the 
divine  grace  and  favor. 

9.  Having  thus  cleared  our  way,  by  restoring 
these  words  to  their  genuine  and  native  sense,  we 
come  to  show,  how  the  apostle  in  his  discourses 
docs  all  along  refer  to  the  original  controversy  be- 
tween the  Jewish  and  Gentile  converts,  whether 
justification  was  by  the  observation  of  the  Mosaic 
law,  or  by  the  belief  and  practice  of  the  gospel : 
and  this  will  appear,  if  we  consider  the  persons 
that  he  has  to  deal  with,  the  way  and  manner  of 
his  arguing,  and  that  there  was  then  no  other  con- 
troversy on  foot,  to  which  these  passages  uonld 
refer.  The  persons  whom  he  had  to  deal  with, 
were  chiefly  of  two  sorts,  pure  Jews,  and  Jewish 
converts.  Pure  Jews  were  those  that  kept  them- 
selves wholly  to  the  legal  economy,  and  expected 
to  be  justified  and  saved  in  no  other  way  than  the 
observation  of  the  law  of  Moses.  Indeed  they 
laid  a  more  peculiar  stress  upon  circumcision,  be- 
cause this  having  been  added  as  the  seal  of  that 
covenant  which  God  made  with  Abraham,  and  the 
discriminating  badge  whereby  they  were  to  be 
distinguished  from  all  other  nations,  they  looked 
upon  it  as  having  a  special  efiicacy  in  it  to  recom- 
m.end  them  to  the  divine  acceptance.  Accord- 
ingly we  find  in  their  writings  that  they  make 
this  the  main  basis  and  foundation  of  their  hope 
and  confidence  towards  God.  For  they  tell  us, 
that  the  precept  of  circumcision  is  greater  than 
all  the  rest,  and  equivalent  to  the  whole  law  ;  that 
the  reason  why  God  hears  the  prayers  of  the  Is- 
raelites, but  not  of  the  Gentiles  or  Christians,  i3 
for  the  virtue  and  merit  of  circumcision  ;  yea, 
that  "  so  great  is  the  power  and  efficacy  of  the 
law  of  circumcision,  that  no  man  that  is  circum- 
cised shall  go  to  hell."  Nay,  according  to  the 
idle  and  trifling  humor  of  these  men,  they  fetch 
down  Abraham  from  the  seat  of  the  blessed,  and 
place  as  porter  at  the  gates  of  hell,  upon  no  other 
errand  than  to  keep  circumcised  persons  from  en- 
tering into  that  miserable  place.  However,, 
nothing  is  more  evident,  than  that  circumcision 
was  the  fort  and  sanctuary  wherein  they  ordinardy 
placed  their  security  ;  and  accordingly,  we  find  St. 
Paul  frequently  disputing  against  circumcision,  as 
virtually  comprising,  in  their  notion,  the  keepmg 
of  the  whole  Jewish  law.  Besides,  to  these  literal 


-  Heb.  xi.  8.    t  Rom.  iv.  2-3.    t  Rom.  iv.  2,  3,  &c. 


92 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


impositions  of  the  law  of  Moses,  the  Pharisees  had 
added  many  vain  traditions  and  several  supersti- 
tious usages  of  their  own  contrivance ;  in  the  ob- 
servance whereof  tlie  people  placed  not  a  little  con- 
fidence, as  to  that  righteousness  upon  which  they 
hoped  to  stand  clear  with  heaven.  Against  all 
these  our  apostle  argues,  and  sometimes  by  argu- 
ments peculiar  to  them  alone.  Jewish  converts 
were  those,  who  having  embraced  the  Christian 
rehgion,  did  yet,  out  of  a  veneration  to  their  an- 
cient rites,  make  the  observance  of  them  equally 
necessary  with  the  belief  and  practice  of  Chris- 
tianity both  to  themselves  and  others.  These  last 
were  the  persons,  who  as  they  first  started  the 
controversy,  so  were  they  those  against  whom  the 
apostle  mainly  opposed  himself,  endeavoring  to  dis- 
mount their  pretences,  and  to  beat  down  their 
opinions  level  with  the  ground. 

10.  Thus  will  yet  further  appear  from  the  way 
and  manner  of  the  apostle's  arguing,  which  plainly 
respects  this  controversy,  and  will  be  best  seen  in 
some  particular  instances  of  his  reasonings.  And 
first,  he  argues,  that  this  way  of  justification 
urged  by  Jews  and  Jewish  converts  was  incon- 
sistent with  the  goodness  of  God,  and  his  univer- 
sal kindness  to  mankind ;  being  so  narrow  and 
limited,  that  it  excluded  the  far  greatest  part  of 
the  world.  Tiius,  in  the  first  three  chapters  of 
his  epistle  to  the  Romans,  having  proved  at  large 
that  "  the  whole  world,"  botli  Jew  and  Gentile, 
"were  under  a  state  of  guilt,"  and  consequently 
liable  to  the  divine  sentence  and  condemnation ; 
he  comes  next  to  inquire  by  what  means  they 
may  be  delivered  from  this  state  of  vengeance, 
and  shows  that  it  could  not  be  by  legal  obser- 
vances ;  but  that  now  there  was  a  way  of  righte- 
ousness or  justification  declared  by  Christ*  in  the 
gospel,  (intimated  also  in  the  Old  Testament,) 
extending  to  all,  both  Jews  and  Gentiles  ;  where- 
by God,  with  respect  to  the  satisfaction  and  expia- 
tion of  Christ,  is  ready  freely  to  pardon  and  justify 
all  penitent  believers  ;  that  therefore  there  was 
a  way  revealed  in  the  gospel,  whereby  a  man 
might  be  justified,  without  being  beholden  to  the 
rites  of  the  Jewish  law,  otherwise  it  would  argue 
that  God  had  very  little  care  of  the  greatest  part 
of  men.  "Is  he  God  of  the  Jews  only?  Is  he 
not  also  of  the  Gentiles  1  Yes,  of  the  Gentiles 
also  :  seeing  it  is  one  God,  which  shall  justify  the 
circumcision  by  faith,  and  the  uncircumcision 
through  faith,  Jew  and  Gentile"  in  the  same 
evangelical  way.  The  force  of  which  argument 
lies  in  this,  that  that  cannot  be  necessary  to  our 
justification,  which  excludes  the  greatest  part  of 
mankind  from  all  possibility  of  being  justified  ; 
(and  this  justification  by  the  Mosaic  law  plainly 
does  ;)  a  thing  by  no  means  consistent  with  God's 
universal  love  and  kindness  to  his  creatures. 
Hence,  the  apostle  magnifies  the  grace  of  the 
gospel,  tliat  it  lias  broken  down  the  partition  wall, 
and  made  way  for  all  nations  to  come  in  ;  that 
"now  there  is  neither  Greek  nor  Jew,  circumcision 
nor  uncircumcision,  barbarian  nor  Scythian  ;"t 
no  difference  in  this  respect,  but  "all  one  in 
Christ  Jesus  ;"}:  all  equally  admitted  to  terms  of 
pardon  and  justification,  "  in  every  nation,  he  that 


•  Rom.  iii.  20, 21,  &c. 
*Col.  iii.ll. 


t  Gal.  iii.  28. 


feareth  God  aftd  worketh  righteousness  being  ac- 
cepted with  him."* 

11.  Secondly  ;  he  argues,  that  this  Jewish  way 
of  justification  could  not  be  indispensably  neces- 
sary, in  that  it  had  not  been  the  constant  way 
whereby  good  men  in  all  ages  had  been  justified 
and  accepted  with  heaven.  This  he  eminently 
proves  fi-om  the  instance  of  Abraham,  whom  the 
Scripture  sets  forth  as  "the  father  of  the  faithful," 
and  the  great  exemplar  of  that  way  wherein  all 
his  spiritual  seed,  all  true  behevers,  were  to  be 
justified.  Nov/,  of  him  it  is  evident,  that  he  was 
justified  and  accepted  with  God  upon  his  practi- 
cal belief  of  God's  power  and  promise,  before 
ever  circumcision,  and  much  more  before  the  rest 
of  the  Mosaic  institution  was  in  being.  "  Cometh 
this  blessedness  then  upon  the  circumcision  only, 
or  upon  the  uncircumcision  also  ?  For  we  say 
that  faith  was  reckoned  unto  Abraham  for  righte- 
ousness. How  was  it  then  reckoned,  when  he 
was  in  circumcision,  or  in  uncircumcision  1  Not 
in  circumcision,  but  in  uncircumcision.  And  he 
received  the  sign  of  circumcision,  a  seal  of  the 
righteousness  of  the  faith,  which  he  had  being  yet 
uncircunicised,"f  &c.  The  meaning  whereof  is 
plainly  this,  that  pardon  of  sin  cannot  be  entailed 
upon  the  way  of  the  Mosaic  law,  it  being  evident 
that  Abraham  was  justified  and  approved  of  God 
before  he  was  circumcised,  which  was  only  added 
as  a  seal  of  the  covenant  between  God  and  him, 
and  a  testimony  of  that  acceptance  with  God 
which  he  had  obtained  before.  And  this  way  of 
God's  deahng  with  Abraham,  and  in  him  with  all 
his  spiritual  children,  the  legal  institution  could 
not  make  void,  it  being  impossible  that  dispensa- 
tion, which  came  so  long  after,  should  disannul 
the  covenant  which  God  had  made  with  Abraham 
and  liis  spiritual  seed  four  hundred  and  thirty 
years  before.  Upon  this  account,  as  the  apostle 
observes,  the  Scripture  sets  forth  Abraham  as  the 
great  type  and  pattern  of  justification,  as  "  the 
father  of  all  them  that  believe,  though  they  be  not 
circumcised,  that  righteousness  might  be  im- 
puted to  them  also ;  and  the  father  of  circumci- 
sion to  them  who  are  not  of  the  circumcision  only, 
but  also  walk  in  the  steps  of  that  faith  of  our 
father  Abraliam,  which  he  had  being  yet  uncir- 
cumcised."J  "  They,  therefore,  that  are  of  faith, 
the  same  are  the  children  of  Abraham  ;"||  and, 
"tlie  Scripture,  foreseeing  that  God  would  jastify 
the  heathen  through  faith,  preached  before  the 
gospel"  (this  evangelical  way  of  justifying)  "unto 
Abraham,  saying.  In  thee  shall  all  nations  be 
blessed.  So  then  they  which  be  of  faith,"  who 
believe  and  obey,  as  Abraham  did,  "shall  be 
blessed,"  pardoned  and  saved,  "with  faithful 
Abraham."^  It  might  further  be  demonstrated, 
that  this  has  ever  been  God's  method  of  dealing 
with  mankind,  our  apostle,  in  the  eleventh  chapter 
to  the  Hebrews,  proving  all  along,  by  particular 
instances,  that  it  was  by  such  a  faith  as  this,  with- 
out any  relation  to  the  law  of  Moses,  that  good 
men  were  justified  and  accepted  with  God  in  all 
ages  of  the  world. 

12.  Thirdly ;  he  argues  against  this  Jewish 
way  of  justification,  from  the  deficiency  and  im- 


Acls  X.  35.    t  Rom.  iv.  9, 10,  11. 

Rom.  iv.  1,12.      §  Gal.  iii.  8,9. 


t  Gal.  iii.  17. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


])crfection  of  the  Mosaic  economy,  not  able  to 
justify  and  save  sinners.  Deficient,  as  not  able  to 
assist  those  that  were  under  it  with  sufficient  aids 
to  perform  what  it  required  of  tliera :  "  This  the 
law  could  not  do,  for  that  it  was  weak  through  the 
flesh,"  till  "  God  sent  his  own  Son  in  the  likeness 
of  sinful  flesh,"  to  enable  us,  "  that  the  righteous- 
ness of  the  law  might  be  fulfilled  in  us,  who  walk 
not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  spirit."*  And,  in- 
deed, "could  the  law  have  given  hfe,  verily 
righteousness  should  have  been  by  the  law;"t 
but,  alas  !  the  Scripture  having  concluded  all 
mankind,  Jew  and  Gentile,  under  sin,  and  conse- 
quently incapable  of  being  justified  upon  terms  of 
perfect  and  entire  obedience ;  there  is  now  no 
other  way  but  this,  that  "  the  promise  by  the  faith 
of  Christ  be  given  to  all  them  that  beheve  ;"  i.  e. 
this  evangelical  method  of  justifying  sincere  be- 
lievers. Besides,  the  Jewish  economy  was  defi- 
cient in  pardoning  sin,  and  procuring  the  grace 
and  favor  of  God ;  it  could  only  awaken  the  know- 
ledge of  sin,  not  remove  the  guilt  of  it :  "  It  was 
not  possible  that  the  blood  of  bulls  and  goats 
should  take  away  sin  ;"|  all  the  sacrifices  of  the 
Mosaic  law  were  no  further  available  for  the  par- 
don of  sm,  than  merely  as  they  were  founded  in, 
and  had  respect  to  that  great  sacrifice  and  expia- 
tion which  was  to  be  made  for  the  sins  of  man- 
kind by  the  death  of  the  Son  of  God.  "  The 
priests,  though  they  daily  ministered,  and  often- 
times offered  the  same  sacrifices,  yet  could  they 
never  take  away  sins."||  No,  that  was  reserved 
for  a  better  and  a  higher  sacrifice,  even  that  of 
our  Lord  liimself,  who,  "  after  he  had  offered  one 
eacrifice  for  sins,  for  ever  sat  down  on  the  right 
hand  of  God,"  having  completed  that  which  the 
repeated  sacrifices  of  the  law  could  never  effect. 
So  that  all  men  being  under  guilt,  and  no  justifi- 
cation, where  there  was  no  remission,  the  Jewish 
economy  being  in  itself  unable  to  pardon,  was  in- 
capable to  justify.  This  St.  Paul  elsewhere  de- 
clared in  an  open  assembly  before  Jews  and  Gen- 
tiles ;  "  Be  it  known  unto  you,  men  and  brethren, 
that  through  this  man"  (Christ  Jesus)  "  is  preach- 
ed unto  you  forgiveness  of  sins ;  and  by  him  all  that 
believe  are  justified  from  all  things,  from  which 
ve  could  not  be  justified  by  the  law  of  Moses."^ 

13.  Fourthly ;  he  proves  tliat  justification  by 
the  Mosaic  law  could  not  stand  with  the  death  of 
Christ;  the  necessity  of  whose  death  and  suffer- 
Ligs  it  did  plainly  evacuate  and  take  away  ;  for, 
"  if  righteousness  come  by  the  law,  then  Christ  is 
dead  in  vain. ''IT  If  the  Mosaical  performances  be 
still  necessary  for  our  justification,  then  certainly 
it  was  to  very  little  purpose,  and  altogether  unlie- 
coming  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God,  to  send 
his  own  Son  into  the  world,  to  do  so  nmch  for  us, 
and  to  suffer  such  e.xquisite  pains  and  tortures. 
Nay,  he  tells  them,  that  while  they  persisted  in 
this  fond  obstinate  opinion,  all  that  Christ  had 
done  and  suffered  could  be  of  no  advantage  to 
them.  "Stand  fast  in  the  hberty  wherewith 
Christ  has  made  us  free,  and  be  not  again  en- 
tangled in  the  yoke  of  bondage,"**  the  bondage 
and  servitude  of  the  Mosaic  rites,     "Behold,  I 


Rom.  viii.  3,  4.      t  Gal.  iii.  21.      t  Heb.  x.  4. 
H'id.  v.  11,  1-3.    §  Acts  .xiii.  38,  39.    If  Gal.  ii.  21. 
Gal.v.  1,2,  3,  1. 


Paul,"  solemnly  "say  unto  ye,  that  if  ye  be  cir- 
cunicised,  Christ  shall  profit  you  nothing :  for  I 
testify  again  to  every  man  that  is  circumcised, 
that  he  is  a  debtor  to  do  the  whole  law  ;  Christ 
is  become  of  none  effect  to  you ;  whosoever  of 
you  are  justified  by  the  law,  ye  are  fallen  from 
grace."  The  sum  of  which  argument  is,  that 
whoever  lay  the  stress  of  theu-  justification  upon 
circumcision  and  the  observances  of  the  law,  do 
thereby  declare  themselves  to  be  under  an  obli- 
gation of  perfect  obedience  to  all  that  the  law  re- 
quires of  them,  and  accordingly  supersede  the 
virtue  and  efficacy  of  Christ's  death,  and  disclaim 
all  right  and  title  to  the  grace  and  favor  of  the 
gospel.  For,  since  Christ's  death  is  abundantly 
sufficient  to  attain  its  ends,  whoever  takes  in 
another,  plainly  renounces  this,  and  rests  upon 
that  of  his  own  choosing.  By  these  ways  of 
reasoning,  it  is  evident  what  the  apostle  drives  at 
in  all  his  discourses  about  this  matter.  More 
might  have  been  observed,  had  I  not  thought  that 
tliese  are  sufficient  to  render  his  design,  especially 
to  the  unprejudiced  and  impartial,  obvious  and 
plain  enough. 

14.  Lastly ;  that  St.  Paul's  discourses  about 
justification  and  salvation  do  immediately  refer  to 
the  controversy  between  the  orthodox  and  Juda- 
izing  Christians,  appears  hence,  that  there  was 
no  other  controversy  then  on  foot,  but  concerning 
the  way  of  justification,  whether  it  was  by  the 
observation  of  the  law  of  Moses,  or  only  of  the 
gospel  and  the  law  of  Christ.  For  we  must  needs 
suppose,  that  the  apostle  wrote  with  a  primary 
respect  to  the  present  state  of  things,  and  so  as 
they  whom  he  had  to  deal  with,  might  and  could  not 
but  understand  him :  which  yet  would  have  been 
impossible  for  them  to  have  done,  had  he  intended 
them  for  the  controversies  which  have  since  been 
handled  with  so  much  zeal  and  fierceness,  and  to 
give  countenance  to  those  many  nice  and  subtile 
propositions,  those  curious  and  elaborate  schemes 
which  some  men,  in  these  later  ages,  have  drawn 
of  these  matters. 

15.  From  the  whole  discourse  two  conscctaries 
especially  plainly  follow.  I.  Consect. — That 
works  of  evangelical  obedience  are  nut  opposed  to 
failh  in  justijicaiiun.  By  works  of  evangelical 
obedience,  I  mean  such  Christian  duties  as  are 
the  fruits,  not  of  our  own  power  and  strength, 
but  God's  Spirit,  done  by  the  assistance  of  his 
grace.  And  that  these  are  not  opposed  to  faith, 
is  undeniably  evident,  in  that  (as  we  observed  be- 
fore) faith,  as  including  the  new  nature,  and  the 
keeping  God's  commands,  is  made  the  usual  con- 
dition of  justification.  Nor  can  it  bo  otherwise, 
when  other  graces  and  virtues  of  the  Christian 
hfe  are  made  the  terms  of  pardon  and  acceptance 
with  heaven,  and  of  our  title  to  the  merits  or 
Christ's  death,  and  the  great  promise  of  eternal 
life.  Thus  repentance,  which  is  not  so  much  a 
single  act,  as  a  complex  body  of  Cln-istian  duties, 
"  Repent,  and  be  b.^ptized  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Clirist,  for  the  remission  of  sins,  and  ye  shall  receive 
tlie  Holy  Ghost  :"*  "  Repent,  and  be  converted, 
that  your  sms  may  be  blotted  out."!"  So  charity  and 
forgiveness  of  others  :  "  I'orgive,  if  ye  have  aught 
against  any,  that  your  Father  also,  which  is  in 


Acts  ii.  3d 


f  Ibid.  ill.  17. 


94 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


heaven,  may  forgive  you  your  trespasses  :"*  "  For 
if  ye  forgive  men  their  trespasses,  your  heavenly 
Father  also  will  forgive  you  :  but  if  ye  forgive  not 
men  their  trespasses,  neither  will  your  Father  for- 
give yours."f  Sometimes  evangelical  obedience 
in  general :  "  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons  : 
but  in  every  nation,  he  that  feareth  him,  and 
worketh  righteousness  is  accepted  with  him."| 
"If  we  walk  in  the  light,  as  God  is  in  the  light, 
we  have  fellowship  one  with  another,  and  the  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ  his  Son  cleanses  us  from  all  sin."|| 
What  privilege  then  has  faith  above  other  graces 
in  this  matter  ?  are  we  justified  by  faith  t  We 
are  pardoned  and  accepted  with  God  upon  our  re- 
pentance, charity,  and  other  acts  of  evangelical 
obedience.  Is  faith  opposed  to  the  works  of  the 
Zvlosaic  law  in  justification  I  so  are  works  of 
evangelical  obedience  :  "  circumcision  is  nothing, 
and  uncircumcision  is  nothing,  but  the  keeping  the 
commandments  of  God."^  Does  faith  give  glory 
to  God,  and  set  the  crown  upon  his  head  1  works 
of  evangelical  obedience  are  equally  the  effects  of 
divine  grace,  both  preventing  and  assisting  of  us. 
and  indeed  are  not  so  much  our  works  as  his  :  so 
that  the  glory  of  all  must  needs  be  entirely  re- 
solved into  the  grace  of  God ;  nor  can  any  man 
in  such  circumstances,  with  the  least  pretence  of 
reason,  lay  claim  to  merit,  or  boast  of  his  own 
achievements.  Hence  the  apostle  magnifies  the 
evangehcal  method  of  justification  above  that  of  the 
Jaw,  that  it  wholly  excludes  all  proud  reflections 
upon  ourselves  :  "  Where  is  boasting  then  ?  it  is 
excluded.  By  what  law?  of  works'!  Nay,  but 
by  the  law  of  faith.'"!!  The  Mosaical  economy 
fostered  men  up  in  proud  and  high  thoughts  of 
themselves ;  they  looked  upon  themselves  as  a 
peculiar  people,  honored  above  all  other  nations  of 
the  world,  the  seed  of  Abraliam,  invested  with 
mighty  privileges,  &c.  Whereas  the  gospel,  pro- 
ceeding upon  other  principles,  takes  away  all 
foundations  of  pride,  by  acknowledging  our  ac- 
ceptance with  God,  and  the  power  whereby  we 
are  enabled  to  make  good  the  terms  and  condi- 
tions of  it,  to  be  the  mere  result  of  the  divine 
grace  and  mercy,  and  that  the  whole  scheme  of 
our  salvation,  as  it  was  the  contrivance  of  the  di- 
vine wisdom,  so  is  the  purchase  of  the  merit  and 
satisfaction  of  our  crucified  Saviour.  Nor  is 
faith  itself  less  than  other  graces  an  act  of  evan- 
gelical obedience,  and  if  separated  from  them  is 
of  no  moment  or  value  in  the  accounts  of  heaven  : 
"  Though  I  have  all  faitii  and  have  no  charity,  I 
am  nothing."**  "  All  faith,"  be  it  of  what  kind 
soever.  To  this  may  be  added,  (hat  no  tolerable 
account  can  be  given,  why  that  which  is  on  all 
hands  granted  to  be  the  condition  of  our  salvation 
(such  is  evangelical  obedience)  should  not  be  the 
condition  of  our  justification  ;  and  at  the  great 
day  Christians  shall  be  acquitted  or  condemned 
according  as  in  this  world  they  have  fulfilled  or 
neglected  the  conditions  of  the  gospel :  the  decre- 
tory sentence  of  absolution  th;it  shall  then  be  pass- 
ed upon  good  men,  shall  bo  notjjing  but  a  public 
and  solemn  declaration  of  that  private  sentence 


*  Mark  xi.  25,  26. 
t  Acts  X.  34,  35- 
i  1  Cor.  vii.  v.). 
**  1  Cor.  xiii.  2. 


t  Matt.  vi.  14, 15. 
II  1  John,  i.  7. 
IT  Rom.  ill.  27. 


of  justification  that  was  passed  upon  them  in  this 
world ;  so  that  upon  the  same  terms  that  they  are 
justified  now,  they  shall  be  justified  and  acquitted 
then,  and  upon  the  same  terms  that  they  shall  then 
be  judged  and  acquitted  they  are  justified  now, 
viz.  a  hearty  belief  of,  and  a  sincere  obedience  to 
the  gospel.  From  all  which,  I  hope,  it  is  evident, 
that  when  St.  Paul  denies  men  to  be  justified  by 
the  works  of  the  law,  by  the  works  he  either 
means  works  done  before  conversion,  and  by  the 
strength  of  men's  natural  powers,  such  as  enabled 
thom'to  pride  and  boast  themselves,  and  lay  claim 
to  merit,  or  (which  most-what  includes  the  other) 
the  works  of  the  Mosaic  law.  And  indeed  though 
the  controversies  on  foot  in  those  times  did  not 
plainly  determine  his  reasonings  that  way,  yet  the 
considerations  which  we  have  now  suggested,  suf- 
ficiently show  that  they  could  not  be  meant  of  any 
other  sense. 

16.  CoNSECT.  II.— That  the  doctrines  of  St. 
Paid  and  St.  James  about  justification  are  fairly 
consistent  with  each  other.  For  seeing  St.  Paul's 
design,  in  excluding  works  from  justification,  was 
only  to  deny  the  works  of  the  Jewish  law,  or  those 
that  were  meritorious  as  being  wrought  by  our 
own  strength,  and  in  asserting,  that  in  opposition 
to  such  works  we  are  "justified  by  faith,"  he  meant 
no  more  than  that  either  we  are  justified  in  an 
evangelical  way,  or  more  particularly  by  faith 
intended  a  practical  belief,  including  evangelical 
obedience  :  and  seeing,  on  the  other  hand,  St. 
James  in  affirming  "that  we  are  justified  by 
works,  and  not  by  faith  only  ;"  by  works,  means 
no  more  than  evangelical  obedience,  in  opposition 
to  a  naked  and  an  empty  faith ;  these  two  are  so 
far  from  quarreling  that  they  mutually  embrace 
each  other,  and  both  in  the  main  pursue  the  same 
design.  And  indeed  if  any  disagreement  seem 
between  them,  it  is  most  reasonable  that  St.  Paul 
should  be  expounded  by  St.  James,  not  only  be- 
cause his  propositions  are  so  express  and  positive, 
and  not  justly  liable  to  ambiguity,  but  because  he 
wrote  some  competent  time  after  the  other,  and 
consequently  as  he  perfectly  understood  his  mean- 
ing, so  lie  was  capable  to  countermine  those  ill 
principles  which  some  men  had  built  upon  St. 
Paul's  assertions.  For  it  is  evident,  from  several 
passages  in  St.  Paul's  epistles,  that  even  then 
many  began  to  mistake  his  doctrine,  and  from  his 
assertions  about  justification  by  faith,  and  not  by 
works,  to  infer  propositions  that  might  serve  the 
purposes  of  a  bad  life  ;  "  they  slanderously  report- 
ed him  to  say,  that  we  might  do  evil,  that  good 
might  come;"*  "that  we  might  continue  in  sin, 
that  the  grace  of  the  gospel  might  the  more 
abound."!  They  thought  that  so  long  as  they 
did  but  believe  the  gospel  in  the  naked  notion  and 
speculation  of  it,  it  was  enough  to  recommend 
them  to  the  favor  of  God,  and  to  serve  all  the 
purposes  of  justification  and  salvation,  however 
they  shaped  and  steered  their  lives.  Against  these 
men  it  is  beyond  all  question  plain,  that  St.  James 
levels  liis  epistle,  to  batter  down  the  growing  doc- 
trines of  libertinism  and  profaneness,  to  show  the 
insufficiency  of  a  naked  faith,  and  an  empty  pro- 
fession of  religion,  that  it  is  not  enough  to  recom- 
mend us  to  the  divine  acceptance,  and  to  justify 


♦  Rom.  iii.  d. 


t  Rom.  vi.  1. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


95 


us  in  the  sight  of  heaven,  barely  to  believe  the 
gospel,  unless  we  really  obey  and  practise  it  ;*  that 
a  faith  destitute  of  this  evangelical  obedience  is 
fruitless  and  unprofitable  to  salvation ;  that  it  is 
by  these  works  that  faith  must  appear  to  be  vital 
and  sincere  ;  that  not  only  Rahab  but  Abraham, 
the  father  of  the  faithful,  was  justified  not  bv  a 
bare  belief  of  God's  promise,  but  a  hearty  obe"di- 
ence  to  God's  command,  in  the  ready  offer  of  his 
son,  whereby  it  appears  that  his  faith  and  obedi- 
ence did  co-operate  and  conspire  together,  to  ren- 
der him  capable  of  God's  favor  and  approbation  ; 
and  that  "  herein  the  Scripture  was  fulfilled,  which 
saith,  that  Abraham  believed  God,  and  it  was  im- 
puted to  him  for  righteousness  ;"  (whence,  by  the 
way,  nothing  can  be  clearer,  than  that  both  these 
apostles  intend  the  same  thing  by  faith,  in  the  case 
of  Abraham's  justification,  and  its  being  "  imputed 
to  him  for  righteousness ;"  viz.  a  practical  belief 
and  obedience  to  the  commands  of  God  ;)  that  it 
follows  hence,  that  faith  is  not  of  itself  sufficient 
to  justify  and  make  us  acceptable  to  God,  unless  a 
proportionable  obedience  be  joined  with  it ;  with- 
out which  faith  serves  no  more  to  these  ends  and 
purposes,  than  a  body  destitute  of  the  soul  to  ani- 
mate and  enhven  it,  is  capable  to  exercise  the 
functions   and  offices  of  the  natural   life.      His 
meanmg,  in  short,  being  nothing  else  than  that 
good  works,  or  evangelical  obedience,  is,  accord- 
ing to  the  divine  appointment,  the  condition  of  the 
gospel-covenant,  without  which  it  is  in  vain  for 
!l  any  to  hope  for  that  pardon  which  Christ  hath 
'  purchased,  and  for  that  favor  of  God,  which  is  ne- 
cessary to  eternal  life. 


ST.    ANDREW. 

The  sacred  story,  which  has  hitherto  been  very 
large  and  copious  in  describing  the  acts  of  the 
first  two  apostles,  is  henceforward  very  sparing  in 
its  accounts,  giving  us  only  now  and  'then  a  few 
oblique  and  accidental  remarks  concerning  the 
rest,  and  some  of  them  no  further  mentioned" than 
the  mere  recording  of  their  names.     For  what 

I  reasons  it  pleased  the  Divine  wisdom  and  provi- 
dence, that  no  more  of  their  acts  should  be  con- 
signed to  writing  by  the  penmen  of  the  holy  story 
is  to  us  unknown.  Probably  it  might  be  thought 
convenient  that  no  more  account  should  be  given 

I  of  the  first  plantations  of  Christianity  in  the  world 
than  what  concerned  .Tudcea,   and  the  neighbor- 

I  countries,  at  least  the  most  eminent  places'^of  the 
Roman  empire  ;  that  so  the  truth  of  the  propheti- 
cal predictions  might  appear,  which  had  foretold 
that  the  law  of  the  Messiah  "  should  come  forth 
from  Sion,  and  the  word  of  the  Lord  from  Jerusa- 
lem."    Besides  which,  a  particular  relation  of  the 

j  acts  of  so  many  apostles,  done  in  so  many  several 
countries,  might  have  swelled  the  holy  volumes 
into  too  great  a  bulk,  and  rendered  them  less  ser- 
viceable and  accommodate  to  the  ordinary  use  of 
Christians.     Among  the  apostles  that  succeed  we 

1  first  take  notice  of  St.  Andrew.  He  was  born  at 
Bethsaida,  a  city  of  Galilee,  standing  upon  the 

I 

♦  Vid.  chap.  ii.  ver.  14,  15,  et  sen. 
»4  (22 


I  W  f  fi^h  ^'^'  «f  G^nesareth,  son  to  John,  or 
to  tMmon  Peter,  but  whether  elder  or  youncrer  the 
ancien  s  do  not  clearly  decide,  though  SS  n^S 
par  intnnate  him  to  have  been  tlie  youliger  brother' 

mX  oirir-^f  '^'  ""^i^  ^"^^"'-''y  of  Epiphanius 
on  the  other  side,  as  we  have  formerly  noted.  He 
was  brought  up  to  his  father's  trade,  whereat  he 
abored,  till  our  Lord  called  hiin  from  catchmg  fish! 
0  be  a  "fisher  of  men,"  for  which  he  was  fitted 
by  some  preparatory  institutions,  even  before  his 
coming  unto  Christ. 

2.  .John  the  Baptist  was  lately  risen  in  the  Jewish 
church  ;  a  person  whom,  for  the  efficacy  and  im- 
partiality  of  his  doctrine,  and  the  extraordinary 
strictness  and  austerities  of  his  life,  the  Jews  eene- 
raliy  had  m  great  veneration.     He  trained  up  his 
jsroselytes  under  the  discipline  of  repentancef  and 
by  urgmg  upon  them  a  severe  change  and  refor- 
mation of  life,  prepared  them  to  entertain  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Messiah,  whose  approach,  he  told 
them,  was  now  near  at  hand ;    representing  to 
them  the  greatness  of  his  person,  and  the  import- 
ance of  the  design  that  he  was  come  upon.     Be- 
sides  the  multitudes  that  promiscuously  flocked  to 
the  Baptist's  discourses,  he  had,  according  to  the 
manner  of  the  Jewish  masters,  some  peculiar  and 
select  disciples,  who  more  constantly   attended 
upon  his  lectures,  and  for  the  most  part  waited 
upon  his  person.     In  the  number  of  these  was  our 
apostle,  who  was  then  with  him  about  Jordan, 
when  our  Saviour,  who  some  time  since  had  been 
baptized,  came  that  way  ;  upon  whose  approach 
the  Baptist  told  them,  that  this  was  the  Messiah, 
the  great  person  whom  he  had  so  often  spoken  of, 
to  usher  in  whose  appearing  his  whole  ministry 
was  but  subservient ;  that  this  was   "  the  Lamb 
of  God,"  the  true  sacrifice  that  was  to  expiate  the 
sins  of  mankind.      Upon  this  testimony  Andrew 
and  another  disciple  (probably  St.  John)  follow  our 
Saviour  to  the  place  of  liis  abode  :  upon  which 
account  he  is  generally,  by  the  fathers  and  ancient 
writers,  styled  the  "first  called"  disciple  ;  though 
in  a  strict  sense  he  was  not  so  ;  for  though  he  was 
the  first  of  the  disciples  that  came  to  Christ,  yet 
was  he  not  called  till  afterwards.      After  some 
converse  with  him,  Andrew  goes  to  acquaint  his 
brother  Simon,  and  both  together  came  to  Christ. 
Long  they  staid  not  with  iiim,  but  returned  to 
their  own  home,  and  to  the  exercise  of  their  call- 
ing, wherein  they  were  employed ;  when  somewhat 
more  than  a  year  after,  our  Lord,  passing  tlirough 
Galilee,  found  them  fishing  upon  the  sea'of  Tib'e- 
rias,  where  he  fully  satisfied  them  of  the  greatnes-s 
and  divinity  of  his  person,  by  the  convictive  evi- 
dence of  that  miraculous  draught  of  fislies  which 
they  took  at  his  command.    And  now  he  told  them 
he  had  other  work  for  them  to  do;  that  they  should 
no  longer  deal  in  fish,  but  in  men,  whom  they 
should  catch  with  the  efficacy  and  influence  of 
that  doctrine  that  he  was  conie  to  deliver  to  the 
world  ;  commanding  them  to  follow  him,  as  his 
immediate  disciples  and  attendants,  who  accord- 
ingly left  all  and  followed  him.     Shortly  after,  St. 
Andrew,  together  with  the  rest,  was  called  to  the 
office  and  honor  of  the  apostolate,  made  choice 
of  to  be  one  of  those  that  were  to  be  Christ's  im- 
mediate vicegerents  for  planting  and  propagating 
the  Christian  churcli.     Little  else  is  particularly 


96 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


recorded  of  him  in  the  eacred  story,  being  com- 
prehended in  the  general  accomit  of  the  rest  ot 
the  apostles.  ...  , 

3.  After  ova  Lord's  ascension  mto  heaven,  and 
that  the  Holy  Ghost  had,  in  its  miraculous  powers, 
been  plentifully  shed  upon  the  apostles,  to  fit  them 
for  the  great  errand  they  were  to  go  upon,  to  root 
out  profaneness  and  idolatry,  and  to  subdue  the 
Avorld  to  the  doctrine  of  the  gospel,  it  is  generally 
affirmed  by  the  ancients,  that  the  apostles  agreed 
among  themselves,  (by  lot  say  some,)  probably  not 
without  the  special  guidance  and  direction  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  what  parts  of  the  world  they  should 
severally  take.     In  this  division  St.  Andrew  had 
Scythia  and  the  neighboring  countries  primarily 
allotted  him  for  his  province.     First,  tlien,  he  tra- 
velled through  Capadocia,  Galatia,  and  Bithyma, 
and  instructed  them  in  the  faith  of  Christ ;  passing 
all  along  the  Euxine  sea,  (formerly  called  Axenus, 
from  the  barbarous  and  inhospitable  temper  of  the 
people  thereabouts,  who  were  wont  to  sacrifice 
strangers,  and  of  their  skulls  to  make   cups   to 
drink°in  at  their  feasts  and  banquets,) and  so  into 
tlie   sohtudes  of   Scythia.      An   ancient   author, 
(though  whence  deriving  his  intelligence  I  know 
not)  gives  us  a  more  particular  account  of  his  tra- 
vels and  transactions  in  these  parts.     He  tells  us, 
that  he  first  came  to  Amynsus,  where  being  enter- 
tained by  a  Jew,  he  went  into  the  synagogue,  dis- 
coursed to  them  concerning  Christ,  and  from  the 
prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament  proved  him  to  be 
the  Messiah,  and  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  Having 
here  converted  and  baptized  many,  ordered  their 
public   meeting,  and   ordained   them    priests,   he 
went  next  to  Trapezus,  a  maritime  city  upon  the 
Euxine  sea  ;  whence,  after  many  other  places,  he 
came  to  Nice,  where  he  staid  two  years,  preaching 
and  working  miracles  with  great  success ;  thence 
to  Nicomedia,  and  so  to  Chalcedon  ;  whence  sail- 
ing througii  the  Propontis  he  came  by  the  Euxine 
sea  to  Heracloa,  and  from  thence  to  Amastris  :  in 
all  which  places  he  met  with  great  difficulties  and 
discouragements,  but  overcame  all  with  an  invin- 
cible patience  and  resolution.     He  next  came  to 
Sinopc,  a  city  situated  upon  the  same  sea,  a  place 
famous  both  for  the  birth  and  burial  of  the  great 
king  Mithridates  ;  here,  as  my  author  reports  from 
the  ancients,  he  met  with  his  brother  Peter,  with 
whom  he  staid  a  considerable  time  at  this  place : 
as  a  monument  whereof,   he   tells  us,  that  the 
chairs  made  of  white  stone,  wherein  they  were 
wont  to  sit  while  thev  taught  the  people,  wore  still 
extant,  and  commonly  showed  in  his  time.     The 
inhabitants  of   this  city   were   most   Jews,  who 
partly    through    zeal     for   their    religion,  partly 
through  the  barbarousness  of  their  manners,  were 
quickly  exasperated  against  the  apostle,  and  con- 
triving together,   attempted   to   burn  the   house 
wherein  he  sojourned  ;  however,  they  treated  him 
with  all  the  instances  of  savage  cruelty,  throwing 
him  to  the  ground,  stamping  upon  him  with  their 
feet,  pulling  and  dragging  him  from  place  to  place, 
some  beating  him  with  clubs,  others  peUing  him 
with  stones ;  and  some,  the  better  to  satisfy  their 
revenge,  biting  off  his  flesh  with  their  teeth  ;  till 
apprehending  they  had  fully  despatched  him,  they 
cast  him  out  of  the  city.      But  he  miraculously 
recovered,  and  publicly  returned  into  the  city. 


rought  amongst  them,  he  reduced  many  t 
r  mind,  converting  them  to  the  faith.  De 


to  a  bet- 
ter mind,  converting  them  to  the  faith.  Departing 
hence,  he  went  again  to  Amynsus,  and  then  to 
Trapezus,  thence  to  Neocaesarea,  and  to  Samosata, 
(the  birth-place  of  the  witty  but  impious  Lucian,) 
where  having  baffled  the  acute  and  wise  phi- 
losophers, he  purposed  to  return  to  Jerusalem. 
Whence,  after  some  time,  he  betook  himself  to 
his  former  provinces,  travelling  to  the  country  of 
the  Abasgi,  where  at  Sebastople,  situate  upon  the 
eastern  shore  of  the  Euxine  sea,  between  the  in- 
flux  of  the  rivers  Phasis  and  Apsarus,  he  success- 
fully preached  the  gospel  to  the  inhabitants  of  that 
city.  Hence  he  removed  into  the  country  of  the 
Zecchi,  and  tlie  Bosphorani,  part  of  the  Asiatic 
Scythia,  or  Sarmatia ;  but  finding  the  inhabitants 
very  barbarous  and  intractable,  he  stayed  not  long 
among  them,  only  at  Cherson  or  Chersonesus,  a 
great  and  populous  city  within  the  Bosphorus;  he 
continued  some  time,  instructing  and  confirming 
them  in  the  faith.  Hence,  taking  ship,  he  sailed 
across  the  sea  to  Sinope,  situate  in  Paphlagonia, 
the  royal  seat  of  the  great  king  Mithridates,  to 
encourage  and  confirm  the  churches  which  he  had 
lately  planted  ui  those  parts ;  and  here  he  ordain- 
ed Philologus,  formerly  one  of  St.  Paul's  disciples, 
bishop  of  that  city. 

4.  Hence  he  came  to  Byzantium,  (since  called 
Constantinople,)  where  he  instructed  them  in  the 
knowledge  of  the  Christian  religion,  founded  a 
church  for  divine  worship,  and  ordained  Stachys 
(whom  St.  Paul  calls  "his  beloved  Stachys")  first 
bishop  of  that  place.  Baronius,  indeed,  is  unwil- 
ling to  believe  this,  desirous  to  engross  the  honor 
of  it  to  St.  Peter,  whom  he  will  have  to  have  been 
tlie  first  planter  of  Christianity  in  these  parts.  But 
besides  that  Baronius's  authority  is  ver}'  slight 
and  insignificant  in  this  case,  (as  we  have  before 
noted  in  St.  Peter's  life,)  this  matter  is  expressly 
asserted  not  only  by  Nicephorus  Callistus,  but  by 
another  Nicephorus,  patriarch  of  Constantinople, 
and  who  therefore  may  be  presumed  knowing  in 
his  predecessors  in  that  see.  Banished  out  of  the 
city  by  him  wlio  at  tliat  time  usurped  the  govern- 
ment, he  fled  to  Argyropolis,  a  place  near  at  hand, 
where  he  preached  the  gospel  for  two  years  toge- 
ther with  good  success,  converting  great  numbers 
to  the  faith.  After  this  he  travelled  over  Thrace, 
Macedonia,  Thessaly,  Achaia ;  Nazianzen  adds 
Epirus,  in  all  which  places  for  many  years  he 
preached  and  propagated  Christianity,  and  con- 
firmed the  doctrine  that  he  taught  with  great 
signs  and  miracles.  At  last  he  came  to  Patraf,  a 
city  of  Achaia,  where  he  gave  his  last  and  great 
testimony  to  it ;  I  mean  laid  down  his  own  life  lo 
ratify  and  ensure  it.  In  describing  his  martyrdom 
we  shall,  for  the  main,  follow  the  account  that  is 
given  us  in  the  "Acts  of  his  Passion,"  pretended 
to  have  been  written  by  the  presbyters  and  dea- 
cons of  Achaia,  present  at  his  martyrdom  ;  which, 
though  I  dare  not  with  some  assert  to  be  the  ge- 
nuine work  of  those  persons,  yet  can  it  not  be 
denied  to  be  of  considerable  antiquity,  being  men- 
tioned by  Philastrius,  who  flourished  anno  380, 
and  were  no  doubt  written  long  before  his  time. 
The  sum  of  it  is  this. 

5.  iEgeas,  proconsul  of  Achaia,  came  at  this  time 

^ ^  ^     to  Patrffi,  where  observing  that  multitudes  were 

whereby,  and  by"^  some"^  other  miracles  which  he  I  fallen  oflf  from  paganism,  and  had  embraced  Chris- 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


97 


tianity,  lie  endeavored  by  all  arts  both  of  favor 
and  cruelty  to  reduce  the  people  to  their  old  idola- 
tries. To  him  the  apostle  resolutely  makes  his  ad- 
dress, calmly  puts  him  in  mind,  that  he,  being  but 
a  judge  of  men,  should  own  and  revere  him  who 
was  the  supreme  and  impartial  judge  of  all,  that  he 
should  give  him  that  divine  honor  which  was  due 
to  him,  and  leave  off  the  impieties  of  his  false 
Jieathen  worship.  The  proconsul  derided  him  as 
an  innovator  in  religion,  a  propagator  of  that  su- 
perstition,  whose  author  the  Jews  had  infamously 
put  to  death  upon  a  cross.  Hereat  the  apostle 
took  occasion  to  discourse  to  him  of  the  infinite 
love  and  kindness  of  our  Lord,  who  came  into  the 
world  to  purchase  the  salvation  of  mankind,  and 
for  that  end  did  not  disdain  to  die  upon  the  cross. 
To  whom  the  proconsul  answered,  that  he  might 
persuade  them  so  that  would  believe  him  ;  for  his 
part,  if  he  did  not  comply  with  him  in  doing  sacri- 
fice to  the  gods,  he  would  cause  him  to  suffer  upon 
that  cross  which  he  had  so  much  extolled  and 
magnified.  St.  Andrew  replied,  that  he  did  sacri- 
fice every  day  to  God,  the  only  true  and  Omnipo- 
tent Being,  not  with  fumes  and  bloody  offerings, 
but  in  the  sacrifice  of  the  immaculate  Lamb  of 
God.  The  issue  was,  the  apostle  was  committed 
to  prison  ;  whereat  the  people  were  so  enraged, 
that  it  had  broken  out  into  a  mutiny  had  not  the 
apostle  restrained  them,  persuading  them  to  imi- 
tate the  mildness  and  patience  of  our  meek  hum- 
ble Saviour,  and  not  to  hinder  him  from  that 
crown  of  martyrdom  that  now  waited  for  him. 

6.  The  next  day  he  was  again  brought  before 
the  proconsul,  who  persuaded  him  that  he  would 
not  foolishly  destroy  himself,  but  live  and  enjoy 
with  him  the  pleasures  of  this  life.  The  apostle  told 
him,  that  he  should  have  with  him  eternal  joys, 
if,  renouncing  his  execrable  idolatries,  lie  would 
heartily  entertain  Christianity,  whicii  he  had  hi- 
therto so  successfully  preached  amongst  them. 
That,  answered  the  proconsul,  is  the  very  reason 
why  I  am  so  earnest  with  you  to  sacrifice  to  the 
gods,  that  those  whom  you  have  every  where  se- 
duced, may  by  your  example  be  brought  to  return 
back  to  that  ancient  religion  which  they  have  for- 
saken :  otherwise  I  will  cause  you  with  exquisite 
tortures  to  be  crucified.  The  apostle  replied, 
that  now  he  saw  it  was  in  vain  any  longer  to  deal 
with  him,  a  person  incapable  of  sober  counsels, 
and  hardened  in  his  own  blindness  and  folly  ;  that 
as  for  himself,  he  might  do  his  worst,  and  if  he  had 
one  torment  greater  than  another,  he  might  heap 
that  upon  him :  the  greater  constancy  he  showed 
in  his  sufferings  for  Christ,  the  more  acceptable 
he  should  be  to  his  Lord  and  master.  yEgeas 
could  now  hold  no  longer,  but  passed  the  sentence 
of  death  upon  him ;  and  Nicephorus  gives  us 
some  more  particular  account  of  the  proconsul's 
displeasure  and  rage  against  him,  which  was,  that 
amongst  others  he  had  converted  his  wife,  Maxi- 
milla,  and  his  brother,  Stratocles,  to  the  Christian 
faith,  having  cured  them  of  desperate  distempers 
that  had  seized  upon  them. 

7.  The  proconsul  first  commanded  him  to  be 
scourged,  seven  lictors  sufficiently  whipping  his 
naked  body;  and  seeing  his  invincible  patience 
and  constancy,  commanded  him  to  be  crucified, 
but  not  to  be  fastened  to  the  cross  with  nails,  but 
cords,  that  so  his  death  might  be  more  lingering 


and  tedious.  As  he  was  led  to  execution,  to  which 
he  went  with  a  cheerful  and  composed  mind,  the 
people  cried  out,  that  he  was  an  innocent  and  good 
man,  and  unjustly  condemned  to  die.  Being  come 
within  sight  of  the  cross,  he  saluted  it  with  this 
kind  of  address,  that  he  had  long  desired  and  ex- 
pected this  happy  hour,  that  the  cross  had  been 
consecrated  by  the  body  of  Christ  hanging  on  it, 
and  adorned  with  his  members  as  with  so  many 
inestimable  jewels,  that  he  came  joyful  and  tri- 
umphing to  it,  that  it  might  receive  him  as  a  dis- 
ciple and  follower  of  him  who  once  hung  upon  it, 
and  be  the  means  to  carry  him  safe  unto  his  mas- 
ter, having  been  the  instrument  upon  which  his 
master  had  redeemed  him.  Having  prayed,  and 
exhorted  the  people  to  constancy  and  persever- 
ance  in  that  religion  which  he  had  delivered  to 
them,  he  was  fastened  to  the  cross,  whereon  he 
hung  two  days,  teaching  and  instructing  the  peo- 
ple all  the  time  ;  and  when  great  importunities, 
in  the  mean  while,  were  used  to  the  proconsul  to 
spare  his  life,  he  earnestly  begged  of  our  Lord, 
that  he  might  at  this  time  depart  and  seal  the 
truth  of  his  religion  with  his  blood.  God  heard 
his  prayer,  and  he  immediately  expired,  on  the 
last  of  November,  though  in  what  year  no  certain 
account  can  be  recovered. 

8.  There  seems  to  have  been  something  pecu- 
liar in  that  cross  that  was  the  instrument  of  his 
martyrdom,  commonly  affirmed  to  have  been  a 
cross  decussate,  two  pieces  of  timber  crossing 
each  other  in  the  middle,  in  the  form  of  the  letter 
X,  hence  usually  known  by  the  name  of  St.  An- 
drew's cross  ;  though  there  want  not  those  who 
affirm  him  to  have  been  crucified  upon  an  olive- 
tree.  His  body  being  taken  down  and  embalmed, 
was  decently  and  honorably  interred  by  Maxi- 
milla,  a  lady  of  great  quality  and  estate,  and 
whom  Nicephorus,  I  know  not  upon  what  ground, 
makes  wife  to  the  proconsul.  As  for  that  report 
of  Gregory,  bishop  of  Tours,  that  on  the  anni- 
versary day  of  his  martydom,  there  was  wont  to 
flow  from  St.  Andrew's  tomb  a  most  fragrant  and 
precious  oil,  which  accordmg  to  ils  quantity  de- 
noted the  scarceness  or  plenty  of  the  following 
year;  and  that  the  sick  being  anointed  with  this 
oil  were  restored  to  their  ibrmer  health,  I  leave 
to  the  reader's  discretion,  to  believe  what  he 
please  of  it.  For  my  part,  if  there  be  any  ground 
of  truth  in  the  story,  I  believe  it  to  be  no  more 
than  tliat  it  was  an  exhalation  and  sweating  forth 
at  some  times  of  those  rich  costly  perfumes  and 
ointments  wherewith  his  body  was  embalmed  after 
his  crucifixion.  Though  I  must  confess  this  con- 
jecture to  be  impossible,  if  that  be  true  which  my 
author  adds,  that  some  years  the  oil  burst  out  in 
such  plenty,  that  the  stream  arose  to  the  middle 
of  the  church.  His  body  was  afterwards,  by 
Constantine  the  Great,  solemnly  removed  to  Con- 
stantinople, and  buried  in  the  great  church,  which 
he  had  built  to  the  honor  of  the  apostles  ;  which 
being  taken  down  some  hundred  years  after,  by 
Justinian  the  emperor,  in  order  to  its  reparation, 
the  body  was  found  in  a  wooden  coffin,  and  again 
reposed  in  its  proper  place. 

9.  I  shall  conclude  the  history  of  this  apostle 
with  that  encomiastic  character  which  one  of  the 
ancients  gives  of  him.  "St.  Andrew  was  the 
first-bom  of  the  apostolic  quire,  the  mam  and 


98 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


prime  pillar  of  the  church,  a  rock  before  the  rock, 
the  foundation  of  that  foundation,  the  first-fruits 
of  the  beginning,  a  caller  of  others  before  he  was 
called  himself ;  lie  preached  that  gospel  that  was 
not  yet  believed  or  entertained;  revealed  and 
made  known  that  hfe  to  his  brother,  which  he  had 
not  yet  perfectly  learned  himself.  So  great 
treasures  did  tliat  one  question  bring  him,  "Mas- 
ter where  dwellest  thou  V  which  he  soon  per- 
ceived by  the  answer  given  him,  and  which  he 
deeply  pondered  in  his  mind,  "  Come  and  see." 
How  art  thou  become  a  prophet  ?  whence  thus 
divinely  skillful  1  what  is  it  that  thou  thus  sound- 
est in  Peter's  ears  ]  ["  We  have  found  him,"  «fcc.] 
why  dost  thou  attempt  to  compass  liim,  whom 
thou  canst  not  comprehend  ?  how  can  he  be  found 
who  is  omnipresent  1  But  he  knew  well  what  he 
said  :  we  have  found  him,  whom  Adam  lost,  whom 
Eve  injured,  whom  the  clouds  of  sin  have  hidden 
from  us,  and  whom  our  transgressions  had  hitherto 
made  a  stranger  to  us,"  &c.  So  that  of  all  our 
Lord's  apostles  St.  Andrew  had  thus  far  the  ho- 
nor to  be  the  first  preacher  of  the  gospel. 


ST.    JAMES    THE    GREAT. 

St.  James,  sirnamed  the  Great,  either  because 
of  his  age,  being  much  elder  than  the  other,  or 
for  some  peculiar  honors  and  favors  which  our 
Lord  conferred  upon  him,  was  by  country  a  Gali- 
lean, born,  probably,  either  at  Capernaum  or  Beth- 
saida,  being  one  of  Simon  Peter's  partners  in  the 
trade  of  fishing.  He  was  the  son  of  Zebdai  or  Ze- 
bedee,  (and  probably  the  same  whom  the  Jews 
mention  in  their  Talmud,  "  Rabbi  James,  or  Ja- 
cob the  son  of  Zebedee."*)  a  fisherman  ;  and  the 
many  servants  which  he  kept  for  that  employment, 
(a  circumstance  not  taken  notice  of  in  any  other,) 
speak  him  a  man  of  some  more  considerable  note 
in  that  trade  and  way  of  life.  His  mother's 
name  was  Mary,  sirnamed  Salome,  called  first 
Taviphilia,  says  an  ancient  Arabic  writer,f  the 
daughter,  as  is  most  probable,  not  wife  of  Cleopas, 
sister  to  Mary,  the  mother  of  our  Lord  ;  not  her 
own  sister,  properly  so  called,  (the  blessed  virgin 
being,  in  all  likelihood  an  only  daughter,)  but 
cousin-german,  styled  her  sister,  according  to  the 
mode  and  custom  of  the  Jews,  who  were  wont  to 
call  all  such  near  relations  by  the  names  of  brothers 
and  sisters ;  and  in  this  respect  he  had  the  honor 
of  a  near  relation  to  our  Lord  himself.  His  edu- 
cation was  in  the  trade  of  fishing.  No  employ- 
ment is  base  that  is  honest  and  industrious;  nor 
can  it  be  thought  mean  and  dishonorable  to  him, 
when  it  is  remembered,  that  our  Lord  himself,  the 
Son  of  God,  stooped  so  low  as  not  only  to  become 
the  [reputed]  son  of  a  carpenter,  but,  during  the 
retirements  of  his  private  life,  to  work  himself  at 
his  father's  trade,  not  devoting  himself  merely  to 
contemplations,  nor  withdrawing  from  all  useful 
society  with  the  world,  and  hiding  himself  in  the 
solitudes  of  an  anchoret ;  but  busying  himself  in 
an  active  course  of  life,  working  at  the  trade  of 
a  carpenter,!  and  particularly  (as  one  of  the  an 


•  Mark  i.  20.  t  John  xix.  25, 

T  Mark  vi.  3 :  Matt.  xiii.  55. 


cients  tells  us;  making  ploughs  and  yokes.  And 
this  the  sacred  history  does  not  only  plainly  intimate, 
but  it  is  generally  asserted  by  the  ancient  writers 
of  the  church  ;  a  thing  so  notorious,  that  the  hea- 
thens used  to  object  it  as  a  reproach  to  Christi- 
anity. Thence  that  smart  and  acute  repartee 
which  a  Christian  schoolmaster  made  to  Libanius, 
the  famous  orator,  at  Antioch,  when  upon  Julian's 
expedition  into  Persia,  (where  he  was  killed,)  he 
asked  in  scorn,  what  the  carpenter's  son  was  now 
a-doing  ?  The  Christian  replied  with  salt  enough, 
that  the  great  Artificer  of  the  world,  whom  he 
scofiingly  called  the  carpenter's  son,  was  making 
a  coffin  for  his  master  Julian  ;  the  news  of  whose 
death  was  brought  soon  after.  But  this  only  by 
the  way. 

2.  St.  James  applied  himself  to  his  father's 
trade,  not  discouraged  with  the  meanness,  not 
inking  under  the  difficulties  of  it ;  and,  as  usually 
the  blessings  of  heaven  meet  men  in  the  way  of 
an  honest  and  industrious  diligence,  it  was  in  the 
exercise  of  this  calling,  when  our  Saviour,  passing 
by  the  sea  of  Galilee,  saw  him  and  his  brother  in 
the  ship,  and  called  them  to  be  his  disciples.  A 
divine  power  went  along  with  the  word,  which 
they  no  sooner  heard  but  cheerfully  complied 
with  it,  immediately  leaving  all  to  follow  him. 
They  did  not  stay  to  dispute  his  commands,  to 
argue  the  probability  of  his  promise,  solicitously 
to  inquire  into  the  minute  consequences  of  the 
undertaking,  what  troubles  and  hazards  might 
attend  this  new  employment,  but  readily  de- 
livered up  themselves  to  whatever  services  he 
should  appoint  them.  And  the  cheerfulness  of 
their  obedience  is  yet  farther  considerable,  that 
they  left  their  aged  father  in  the  ship  behind 
them.  For  elsewhere  we  find  others  excusing 
themselves  from  an  immediate  attendance  upon 
Christ,  upon  pretence  that  they  must  go  bury 
their  father,  or  take  their  leave  of  their  kindred  at 
liome.*  No  such  slight  and  trivial  pretences 
could  stop  the  resolution  of  our  apostles,  who 
broke  through  the  considerations,  and  quitted  their 
present  interests  and  relations.  Say  not  it  was 
unnaturally  done  of  them,  to  desert  their  father, 
an  aged  person,  and  in  some  measure  unable  to 
help  himself.  For,  besides  that  they  left  servants 
with  him  to  attend  him,  it  is  not  cruelty  to  our 
earthly,  but  obedience  to  our  heavenly  Father,  to 
leave  the  one  that  we  may  comply  with  the  call 
and  summons  of  the  other.  It  was  the  triumph 
of  Abraham's  faith,  when  God  called  him  to  leave 
his  kindred  and  his  father's  house,  "  to  go  out," 
and  sojourn  in  a  foreign  country,  "  not  knowing 
whither  he  went."  Nor  can  we  doubt  but  that 
Zebedee  himself  would  have  gone  along  with 
them,  had  not  his  age  given  him  a  supersedeas 
from  such  an  active  and  ambulatory  course  of  Hfe. 
But  though  they  left  him  at  this  time,  it  is  very 
reasonable  to  suppose,  that  they  took  care  to  in- 
struct him  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Messiah,  and  to 
acquaint  him  with  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  ; 
especially  since  we  find  their  mother  Salome  so 
hearty  a  friend  to,  so  constant  a  follower  of  our 
Saviour  :  but  this  (if  we  may  believe  the  account 
which  one  gives  of  it;  was  after  her  husband's  de- 


Luke  ix.  59—61. 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


sease,  who  probably  lived  not  long  after,  dying  be- 
fore the  time  of  our  Saviour's  passion. 

3.  It  was  not  long  after  this,  that  he  was  called 
from  the  station  of  an  ordinary  disciple,  to  the 
apostolical  office ;  and  not  only  so,  but  honored 
with  some  peculiar  acts  of  favor  beyond  most  of 
the  apostles,  being  one  of  the  three  whom  our 
Lord  usually  made  choice  of  to  admit  to  the  more 
intimate  transactions  of  his  life,  from  which  the 
others  were  excluded.  Thus,  with  Peter  and  his 
brother  John,  he  was  taken  to  the  miraculous 
raising  of  Jairus's  daughter  ;  admitted  to  Christ's 
glorious  transfiguration  upon  the  mount,  and  the 
discourses  that  there  passed  between  him  and  the 
two  great  ministers  of  heaven ;  taking  along  with 
him  into  the  garden,  to  be  a  spectator  of  those 
bitter  agonies,  which  the  holy  Jesus  was  to  un- 
dergo as  the  preparatory  sufferings  to  his  passion. 
What  were  the  reasons  of  our  Lord's  admitting 
these  three  apostles  to  these  more  special  acts  of 
favor  than  the  rest  is  not  easy  to  determine ; 
though  surely  our  Lord,  who  governed  all  his  ac- 
tions by  principles  of  the  highest  prudence  and 
reason,  did  it  for  wise  and  proper  ends  ;  whether 
it  was  that  he  designed  these  three  to  be  more 
solemn  and  peculiar  witnesses  of  some  particular 
passages  of  his  life  than  the  other  apostles,  or  that 
they  would  be  more  eminently  useful  and  service- 
able in  some  parts  of  the  apostolic  office,  or  that 
hereby  he  would  the  better  prepare  and  encourage 
them  against  suffering,  as  intending  them  for  some 
more  eminent  kinds  of  martyrdom  or  suffering 
than  the  rest  were  to  undergo. 

4.  Nor  was  it  the  least  instance  of  that  parti- 
cular honor  whicli  our  Lord  conferred  upon  these 
three  apostles,  that  at  his  calling  them  to  the  apos- 
tolate,  he  gave  them  the  addition  of  a  new  name 
and  title.  A  thing  not  unusual  of  old,  for  God  to 
impose  a  new  name  upon  persons,  when  designing 
them  for  some  great  and  peculiar  services  and  em- 
ployments. Thus  he  did  to  Abraham  and  Jacob. 
Nay,  the  thing  was  customary  among  the  Gentiles, 
as,  had  we  no  other  instances,  might  appear  from 
those  which  the  Scripture  gives  us  :  Pharaoh's 
giving  a  new  name  to  Joseph,  when  advancing 
liim  to  be  viceroy  of  Egypt ;  Nebuchadnezzar  to 
Daniel,  &c.  Thus  did  our  Lord  in  the  election  of 
these  three  apostles ;  "  Simon  he  surnamed  Peter, 
James  the  son  of  Zebedee,  and  John  his  brother 
he  surnamed  Boanerges,"*  which  is,  "  the  sons  of 
thunder."  What  our  Lord  particularly  intended 
in  this  title,  is  easier  to  conjecture  than  certainly 
to  determine  ;  some  think  it  was  given  them  upon 
the  account  of  their  being  present  in  the  mount, 
when  a  voice  came  out  of  the  cloud,  and  said, 
"  This  is  my  beloved  Son,"t  &c.  The  hke  whereto 
when  the  people  heard  at  another  time,  they  cried 
out,  "  that  it  thundered."!  But  besides  that  this 
account  is  in  itself  very  slender  and  inconsidera- 
ble ;  if  so,  then  the  title  must  equally  have  be- 
longed to  Peter,  who  was  then  present  with  them. 
Others  think  it  was  upon  the  account  of  their  loud, 
bold,  and  resolute  preaching  Christianity  to  the 
world,  fearing  no  threateninge,  daunted  with  no 
oppositions,  but  going  on  to  "thunder"  in  the  ears 
of  the  secure  sleepy  world,  rousing  and  awakening 


*  Mark  iii.  16,  17. 
t  John  xii.  29. 


t  Matt.  xvii.  5. 


the  consciences  of  men  with  the  earnestness  and 
yehemency  of  their  preaching  ;  as  thunder,  which 
is  called  "God's  voice,"  powerfully  shakes  the 
natural  world,  and  breaks  in  pieces  "the  cedars  of 
Lebanon  :  or  if  it  relate  to  the  doctrines  thoy  de- 
livered, it  might  signify  their  teaching  the  great 
mysteries  and  speculations  of  the  gospel  in  a  pro- 
founder  strain  than  the  rest ;  which  how  true  it 
might  be  of  our  St.  James,  the  Scripture  is  wholly 
silent ;  but  was  certainly  verified  of  his  brother 
John,  whose  gospel  is  so  full  of  the  more  sublime 
notions  and  mysteries  of  the  gospel  concerning 
Christ's  Deity,  eternal  pre-existence,  &c.,  that  he 
is  generally  affirmed  by  the  ancients,  not  so  much 
to  "speak,"  as  thunder.*  Probably  the  expression 
may  denote  no  more,  than  that  in  general  tiiey 
were  to  be  prime  and  eminent  ministers,  in  this 
new  scene  and  state  of  things ;  the  introducing 
of  the  gospel  or  evangelical  dispensation,  being 
called  "  a  voice  shaking  the  heavens  and  the  earth," 
and  so  is  exactly  correspondent  to  the  native  im- 
portance of  the  word,  signifying  "  an  earthquake," 
or  a  vehement  commotion  that  makes  a  noise  like 
to  thunder. 

5.  However  it  was,  our  Lord,  I  doubt  not,  herein 
had  respect  to  the  furious  and  resolute  disposition 
of  those  two  brothers,  who  seem  to  have  been  of  a 
more  fierce  and  fiery  temper  than  the  rest  of  the 
apostles  ;  whereof  we  have  this  memorable  in- 
stance. Our  Lord  being  resolved  upon  his  jour- 
ney to  Jerusalem,  sent  some  of  liis  disciples  as 
harbingers  to  prepare  his  way,  who  coming  to  a 
village  of  Samaria,  were  uncivilly  rejected,  and 
refused  entertainment ;  probably  because  of  that 
old  and  inveterate  quarrel  that  was  between  the 
Samaritans  and  the  Jews,  and  more  especially  at 
this  time,  because  that  our  Saviour  seemed  to 
slight  Mount  Gerizim,  (where  was  their  staple 
and  solemn  place  of  worship,)  by  passing  it  by,  to 
go  and  worship  at  Jerusalem ;  the  reason  in  all 
likelihood  why  they  denied  him  those  common 
courtesies  and  conveniences  due  to  all  travellers. 
This  piece  of  rudeness  and  inhumanity  was  pre- 
sently so  deeply  resented  by  St.  James  and  his 
brother,  that  they  came  to  their  master  to  know, 
whether  as  Elias  did  of  old,t  they  might  not  pray 
down  fire  from  heaven,  to  consume  these  barba- 
rous and  inhospitable  people.  So  apt  are  men,  for 
every  trifle,  to  call  upon  heaven  to  minister  to  the 
extravagancies  of  their  own  impotent  and  unrea- 
sonable passions.  But  our  Lord  rebukes  their 
zeal,  tells  them  they  quite  mistook  the  case,  that 
this  was  not  the  frame  and  temper  of  his  disciples 
and  followers,  the  nature  and  design  of  that  evan- 
gelical dispensation  that  he  was  come  to  set  on 
foot  in  the  world,  which  was  a  more  pure  and  per- 
fect, a  more  mild  and  gentle  institution,  than  wliat 
was  under  the  Old  Testament,  in  the  times  of 
«  Moses  and  Elias  ;  the  Son  of  man  being  come 
not  to  destroy  men's  lives,  but  to  save  them." 

6.  The  holy  Jesus,  not  long  after,  set  forwards 
in  his  journey  to  Jerusalem,  in  order  to  his  cruci- 
fixion ;  and  the  better  to  prepare  the  minds  of  his 
apostles  for  his  death  and  departure  from  them, 
he  told  them  what  he  was  to  suffer,  and  yet  that 
after  all  he  should  rise  again.  They,  whose  minds 
were  yet  big  with  expectations  of  a  temporal  power 


Heb.  xii.  26. 


t  Luke  ix.  54. 


LIVES    OP   THE    APOSTLES. 


100 


and  monarchy,  understood  not  well  the  meaning 
of  his  discourses  to  them.  However,  St.  James 
and  )iis  brother,  supposing  the  resurrection  that 
he  spoke  of  would  be  the  time  when  his  power 
and  greatness  would  commence,  prompted  their 
mother,  Salome,  to  put  up  a  petition  for  them.* 
She,  presuming  probably  on  her  relation  to  Christ, 
and  knowing  that  our  Saviour  had  promised  his 
apostles,  "that  when  he  was  come  into  his  king- 
dom, they  should  sit  upon  twelve  thrones,  judging 
the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel ;"  and  that  he  already 
honored  her  two  sons  with  an  intimate  familiarity, 
after  leave  modestly  asked  for  her  address,  begged 
of  him,  that  when  he  took  possession  of  his  king- 
dom, her  two  sons,  James  and  John,  might  have 
the  principal  places  of  honor  and  dignity  ne.xt  his 
own  person  ;  the  one  sitting  on  his  "  right  hand," 
and  the  "  other"  on  his  » left,"  as  the  heads  of 
Judah  and  Joseph  had  the  first  places  among  the 
rulers  of  the  tribes  in  the  Jewish  nation.  Our 
Lord  directing  his  discourse  to  the  two  apostles, 
at  whose  suggestion  he  knew  their  mother  had 
made  tliis  address,  told  them,  they  quite  mistook 
the  nature  of  his  kingdom,  which  consisted  not  in 
external  grandeur  and  sovereignty,  but  in  an  in- 
ward life  and  power,  wherein  the  highest  place 
would  be  to  take  the  greatest  pains,  and  to  imdergo 
the  heaviest  troubles  and  sufferings  ;  that  they 
should  do  well  to  consider,  whether  they  were 
able  to  endure  what  he  was  to  undergo,  to  drink 
of  that  bitter  cup  which  he  was  to  drink  of,  and 
to  go  through  that  baptism,  wherein  he  was  shortly 
to  he  baptized  in  his  own  blood.  Our  apostles 
were  not  yet  cured  of  their  ambitious  humor  ;  but 
either  not  understanding  the  force  of  our  Saviour's 
reasonings,  or  too  confidently  presuming  upon 
their  own  strength,  answered,  that  they  could  do 
all  this.  But  he,  the  goodness  of  whose  nature 
ever  made  him  put  the  best  and  most  candid  in- 
terpretation upon  men's  words  and  actions  ;  yea, 
even  those  of  his  great  enemies  ;  did  not  take  the 
advantage  of  their  ha.sty  and  inconsiderate  reply, 
to  treat  them  with  sharp  and  quick  reproofs  ;  but 
mildly  owning  their  forwardness  to  suffer,  told 
them,  that  as  for  sufferings,  they  should  indeed 
suffer  as  well  as  he,  (and  so  we  accordingly  find 
they  did ;  St.  James,  after  all,  dying  a  violent 
death  ;  St.  John  enduring  great  miseries  and  tor- 
ments ;  and  might  we  believe  Chrysostom  and 
Theophylact,  martyrdom  itself,  though  others 
nearer  to  those  times  assure  us  he  died  a  natm*al 
death,)  but  for  any  peculiar  honor  or  dignity,  he 
would  not  by  an  absolute  and  peremptory  favor  of 
his  own,  dispose  of  it  any  otherwise  than  according 
to  those  rules  and  instructions  which  he  had  re- 
ceived of  his  Father.  The  rest  of  the  apostles 
were  offended  with  this  ambitious  request  of  "  the 
sons  of  Zebedee  ;"  but  our  Lord,  to  calm  their 
passions,  discoursed  to  tiiem  of  the  nature  of  the 
evangelical  state,  that  it  was  not  here,  as  in  the 
kingdoms  and  "  seigniories"  of  this  world,  where 
the  great  ones  receive  homage  and  fealtv  from 
those  that  are  under  them,  but  that  in  his  service 
humility  was  the  way  to  honor  ;  that  whoever 
took  most  pains,  and  did  most  good,  would  be  the 
greatest  person,  pre-eminence  being  here  to  be 
measured  by  industry  and  diligence,  and  a  ready 


*  Matt.  XX.  20. 


condescension  to  the  meanest  offices  that  might 
be  subservient  to  the  souls  of  men ;  and  that  this 
was  no  more  than  what  he  sufficiently  taught 
them  by  his  own  example,  being  come  into  the 
world,  not  to  be  served  himself  with  any  pompous 
circumstances  of  state  and  splendor,  but  to  serve 
others,  and  to  lay  down  his  life  for  the  redemption 
of  mankind.  With  which  discourse  the  storm 
blew  over,  and  their  exorbitant  passions  began  on 
all  hands  to  be  allayed  and  pacified. 

7.  What  became  of  St.  James  after  our  Sa- 
viour's ascension  vve  have  no  certain  account, 
either  from  sacred  or  ecclesiastical  stories.  So- 
phronius  tells  us,  that  he  preached  to  the  dispersed 
Jews,  which  surely  he  means  of  that  dispersion 
that  was  made  of  the  Jewish  converts  after  the 
death  of  Stephen.  The  Spanish  writers  generally 
contend,  that  having  preached  the  gospel  up  and 
down  Judaea  and  Samaria,  after  the  death  of  Ste- 
phen he  came  to  these  western  parts,  and  parti- 
cularly into  Spain,  (some  add  Britain  and  Ireland) 
where  he  planted  Christianity,  and  appointed  some 
select  disciples  to  perfect  what  he  had  begun,  and 
then  returned  back  to  Jerusalem.  Of  this  there 
are  no  footsteps  in  any  ancient  writers,  earlier 
than  the  middle  ages  of  the  church,  when  it  is 
mentioned  by  Isidore,  the  Breviary  of  Toledo,  and 
Arabic  book  of  Anastasius,  patriarch  of  Antioch, 
concerning  the  Passions  of  the  Martyrs,  and  some 
others  after  them.  Nay,  Baronius  himself,  though 
endeavoring  to  render  the  account  as  smooth  and 
plausible  as  he  could,  and  to  remove  what  objec- 
tions lay  against  it ;  yet  after  all  confesses,  he  did 
it  only  to  show,  that  the  thing  was  not  impossible, 
nor  to  be  accounted  such  a  monstrous  and  extra- 
vagant fable  as  some  men  made  it  to  be,  as  indeed 
elsewhere  he  plainly  and  peremptorily  both  denies 
and  disproves  it.  He  could  not  but  see,  that  the 
shortness  of  this  apostle's  life,  the  apostles  con- 
tinuing all  in  one  entire  body  at  Jerusalem,  even 
after  the  dispersing  of  the  other  Christians,  pro- 
bably not  going  out  of  the  bounds  of  Judaea  for 
many  years  after  our  Lord's  ascension,  could  not 
comport  with  so  tedious  and  difficult  a  voyage,  and 
the  time  which  he  must  necessarily  spend  in  those 
parts  ;  and  therefore  it  is  safest  to  confine  his 
ministry  to  Judcea,  and  the  parts  thereabouts,  and 
to  seek  for  hun  at  Jerusalem,  where  we  are  sure 
to  find  him. 

8.  Herod  Agrippa,  son  of  Aristobulus,  and 
grand-child  of  Herod  the  Great,  (under  whom 
Christ  was  born)  had  been  in  great  favor  with  the 
late  emperor  Caligula,  but  much  more  with  his 
successor  Claudius,  who  confirmed  his  predeces- 
sor's grant,  with  the  addition  of  Judaea,  Samaria, 
and  Abilene,  the  remaining  portions  of  his  grand- 
father's dominions.  Claudius  being  settled  in  the 
empire,  Herod  comes  over  from  Rome  to  take 
possession,  and  to  manage  the  affairs  of  his  newly 
acquired  kingdom.  A  prince  noble  and  generous, 
prudent  and  politic,  throughly  versed  in  all  the 
arts  of  courtship,  able  to  oblige  enemies,  and  to 
mollify  or  decline  the  displeasure  of  the  emperor, 
(witness  his  subtile  and  cunning  insinuations  to 
Caligula,  when  he  commanded  the  Jews  to  ac- 
count him  a  god)  he  was  one  that  knew,  let  the 
wind  blow  which  way  it  would,  how  to  gain  the 
point  he  aimed  at ;  of  a  courteous  and  affable  de- 
meanor :  but  withal  a  mighty  zealot  for  the  Jewish 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


101 


religion,  and  a  most  accurate  observer  of  the  Mo- 
saic law,  keeping  himself  free  from  all  legal  im- 
purities, and  suffering  no  day  to  pass  over  his  head, 
in  which  he  himself  was  not  present  at  sacrifice. 
Being  desirous  in  the  entrance  upon  his  sove- 
reignty to  insinuate  himself  into  the  favor  of  the 
populacy,  and  led  no  less  by  his  own  zealous  in- 
cUnation,  he  saw  no  better  way,  than  to  fall  heavy 
upon  the  Christians,  a  sort  of  men  whom  he  knew 
the  Jews  infinitely  hated,  as  a  novel  and  an  up- 
start sect,  whose  religion  proclaimed  open  defiance 
to  the  Mosaic  institutions.  Hereupon  he  began 
to  raise  a  persecution  ;  but,  alas,  the  commonalty 
were  too  mean  a  sacrifice  to  fall  as  the  only  victim 
to  his  zeal  and  popular  designs — he  must  have  a 
fatter  and  more  honorable  sacrifice.  It  was  not 
long  before  St.  James's  stirring  and  active  temper, 
his  bold  reproving  of  the  Jews,  and  vigorous  con- 
tending for  the  truth  and  excellency  of  the  Chris- 
tian rehgion,  rendered  him  a  fit  object  for  his  turn. 
Him  he  commands  to  be  apprehended,  cast  into 
prison,  and  sentence  of  death  to  be  passed  upon 
him.  As  he  was  led  forth  to  the  place  of  mar- 
tyrdom, the  soldier  or  officer  that  had  guarded 
him  to  the  tribunal,  or  rather  his  accuser,  (and  so 
Suides  expressly  tells  us  it  was,)  having  been  con- 
vinced by  that  mighty  courage  and  constancy 
which  St.  James  showed  at  the  time  of  his  trial, 
repented  of  what  he  had  done,  came  and  fell  down 
at  the  apostle's  feet,  and  heartdy  begged  pardon 
for  what  he  said  against  him.  The  holy  man, 
after  a  httle  surprise  at  the  thing,  raised  him  up, 
embraced  and  kissed  him.  "  Peace,"  (said  he,) 
"  my  son,  peace  be  to  thee,  and  the  pardon  of  thy 
faults."  Whereupon,  before  them  all  he  publicly 
professed  himself  to  be  a  Christian,  and  so  both 
were  beheaded  at  the  same  time.  Thus  fell  St. 
James,  the  apostolic  proto-martyr,  the  first  of  that 
number  that  gained  the  crown,  cheerfully  taking 
that  cup  of  wiiich  he  had  long  since  told  his  Lord 
he  was  most  ready  to  drink. 

9.  But  the  divine  vengeance,  that  never  sleeps, 
suffered  not  the  death  of  this  innocent  and  righte- 
ous man  to  pass  long  unrevenged;  of  which, 
though  St.  Luke  gives  us  but  a  short  account,  yet 
Josephus,*  who  might  himself  remember  it,  being 
a  youth  at  that  time  of  seven  or  eight  years  of  age, 
sets  down  the  story  with  its  particular  circum- 
stances, agreeing  almost  exactly  with  the  sacred 
historian.  Shortly  after  St.  James's  martyrdom, 
Herod  removed  to  Csesarea,  being  resolved  to 
make  war  upon  the  neighboring  Tyrians  and  Si- 
donians  :  while  he  was  here,  he  proclaimed  solemn 
sights  and  festival  entertainments  to  be  lield  in 
honor  of  Caesar,  to  which  there  flocked  a  great 
confluence  of  all  the  nobility  thereabouts.  Early 
in  the  morning,  on  the  second  day,  he  came  with 
great  state  into  the  theatre,  to  make  an  oration  to 
the  people,  being  clothed  in  a  robe  all  over,  curi- 
ously wrought  with  silver,  which  encountering  with 
the  beams  of  the  rising  sun,  reflected  such  a  lustre 
upon  the  eyes  of  the  people  (who  make  sensible 
appearances  the  only  true  measures  of  greatness) 
as  begot  an  equal  wonder  and  veneration  in  them, 
crying  out  (prompted  no  doubt  by  flatterers,  who 
began  the  cry)  that  it  was  some  deity  which  they 
beheld,  and  that  he  who  spake  to  them  must  be 


Antiquit.  Jud.  lib.  xix.  c.  7,  p.  679. 


something  above  the  ordinary  standard  of  human- 
'ty.  This  impious  applause  Herod  received  with- 
out any  token  of  dislike,  or  sense  of  that  injury 
that  was  hereby  done  to  the  Supreme  Being  of 
the  world.  Biit  a  sudden  accident  changed  the 
scene,  and  turned  the  comic  part  into  a  black  fatal 
tragedy.  Looking  up,  he  espied  an  owl  sitting 
upon  a  rope  over  his  head,  (as  probably  also  he 
did  an  angel,  for  so  St.  Luke  mentions  it,)  which 
he  presently  beheld  as  the  fatal  messenger  of  liis 
death,  as  heretofore  it  had  been  of  liis  prosperity 
and  success.  An  incurable  melancholy  immedi- 
ately seized  upon  his  mind,  as  exquisite  torments 
did  upon  his  bowels,  caused,  without  question,  by 
those  worms  St.  Luke  speaks  of,  which  immedi- 
ately fed  and  preyed  upon  him.  "  Behold,"  said 
he,  turning  to  those  about  him,  "  the  deity  you 
admired,  and  yourselves  evidently  convinced  of 
flattery  and  falsehood  ;  see  me  here,  by  the  laws 
of  fate  condemned  to  die,  whom  just  now  ye  styled 
immortal."  Being  removed  into  the  palace,  his 
pains  still  increased  upon  him ;  and  though  tlie 
people  mourned  and  wept,  fasted  and  prayed  for 
his  hfe  and  health,  yet  his  acute  torments  got  the 
upper  hand,  and  after  five  days  put  a  period  to  lus 
life.     But  to  return  to  St.  James. 

10.  Beinff  put  to  death,  his  body  is  said  to  have 
taken  a  second  voyage  into  Spain,  where  we  are 
with  confidence  enough  told  it  rests  at  this  day. 
Indeed  I  met  with  a  very  formal  account  of  its 
translation   thither,  written  (says  the  publisher) 
above  six  hundred  years  since,  by  a  monk  of  the 
abbey  of  La  Fleury,  in  France  :  the  sum  whereof 
is  this  :  the  apostles  at  Jerusalem  designing  Ctesi- 
phon  for  Spain,  ordained  him  bishop,  and  others 
being  joined  to  his  assistance,  they  took  the  body 
of  St.  James,  and  went  on  board  a  ship,  without 
oars,  without  a  pilot,  or  any  to  steer  and  conduct 
their  voyage,  trusting  only  to  the  merits  of  that 
apostle,  whose  remains  they  earned  along  with 
them.     In  seven  days  they  arrived  at  a  port  in 
Spain,  where  landing,  the  corpse  was  suddenly 
taken  from  them,  and,  with  great  appearances  of 
an  extraordinary  light  from  heaven,  conveyed  tliey 
knew  not  whither,  to  the  place  of  its  interment. 
The  men,  you  may  imagine,  were   exceedingly 
troubled,  that  so  great  a  treasure  should  be  ra- 
vished from  them ;  but  upon  theu-  prayers  and  tears, 
thev  were  conducted  by  an  angel  to  tlie  place 
where  the  apostle  was  buried,,  twelve  miles  from 
the  sea.     Here  they  addressed  themselves  to  a 
rich  noble  matron,  called  Luparia,  who  had  a  great 
estate  in  those  parts,  but  was  a  severe  idolatress, 
be-Tcring  of  her  that  they  might  liave  leave  to  en- 
tomb the  bones  of  the  holy  apostle  withm  her  ju- 
risdiction.    She  entertained  them  with  contempt 
and  scorn,  with  curses  and  execrations,  bidding 
them  go  and  ask  leave  of  the  king  of  the  country. 
Thev  did  so,  but  were  by  him  treated  with  all  the 
instances  of  rage  and  fury,  and  pureed  by  him, 
till  himself  perished  in  the  attempt.     They  return- 
ed back  to  their  GaUiecian  matron,  whom,  by  many 
miracles,  and  especially  by  destroying-  a  dragon 
that  miserably  infested  those  parts,  they  at  las 
made  convert  to  the  faith.     She  thereupon  com 
manded  her  images  to  be  broken,  the  altars  to  b 
demolished,  and  her  own  idol-temple,  bemg  cleans- 
ed and  puriTcd,  to  be  dedicated  to  the  iioiior  ot  bt 
James,  by  wliich  means  Ciiristian:ty  mightily  pre 


103 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


vailed,  and  triumphed  over  idolatry  in  all  those 
countries.  This  is  the  sura  of  the  account,  call  it 
romance  or  history,  which  I  do  not  desire  to  im- 
pose any  further  upon  the  reader's  faith  than  he 
shall  find  himself  disposed  to  beheve  it.  I  add  no 
more,  than  that  liis  body  was  afterwards  translat- 
ed from  Iria  Flavia  (the  place  of  its  first  repose) 
to  ComposteJla :  though  a  learned  person  will  have 
it  to  have  been  but  one  and  the  same  place,  and 
that  after  the  story  of  St.  James  had  gotten  some 
footing  in  the  belief  of  men,  it  began  to  be  called 
ad  Jacobum  Apostolum,  thence  in  after-times  Gi- 
acomo  Postolo,  which  was  at  last  jumbled  into 
Compostella ;  where  it  were  to  tire  both  the  reader 
and  myself,  to  tell  him  with  what  solemn  venera- 
tion, and  incredible  miracles  reported  to  be  done 
here,  this  apostle's  relics  are  worsJiipped  at  this 
day ;  whence  Baronius  call  it  the  great  store- 
house of  miracles  lying  open  to  the  wiiole  world, 
and  wisely  confesses  it  one  of  the  best  arguments 
to  prove  that  his  body  was  translated  thither. 
And  I  should  not  scruple  to  be  of  his  mind,  could 
I  be  assured  that  such  miracles  were  truly  done 
there. 


ST.    JOHN. 

St.  John  was  a  Galilean,  the  son  of  Zebedee  and 
Salome,  younger  brother  to  St.  James,  together 
with  whom  he  was  brought  up  in  the  trade  of  fish- 
ing. St.  Jerome  makes  him  remarkable  upon  the 
account  of  his  nobihty,  whereby  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  high-priest,  and  resolutely  ven- 
tured himself  amongst  the  Jews  at  our  Saviour's 
trial,  prevailed  to  introduce  Peter  into  the  hall, 
v/as  the  only  apostle  that  attended  our  Lord  at  his 
crucifixion,  and  afterwards  durst  own  his  mother, 
and  keep  her  at  his  own  house.  But  the  nobility 
of  his  family,  and  especially  that  it  should  be  such 
as  to  procure  him  so  much  respect  from  persons  of 
the  highest  rank  and  quality,  seems  not  reconcila- 
ble with  the  meanness  of  his  father's  trade,  and 
the  privacy  of  his  fortunes.  And  for  his  acquaint- 
ance with  the  high-priest,  I  should  rather  put  it 
upon  some  other  account,  especially  if  it  be  true 
what  Nicephorus  relates,  that  he  had  lately  sold 
his  estate,  left  by  his  father  in  Galilee,  to  Annas  the 
high-priest,  and  had  therewith  purchased  a  fair 
house  at  Jerusalem,  about  Mount  Sion,  whence  he 
became  acquainted  with  him.  Before  his  coming 
to  Christ,  he  seems  for  some  time  to  have  been 
disciple  to  John  the  Baptist,  being  probably  that 
other  disciple  that  was  with  Andrew,  when  they 
left  the  Baptist  to  follow  our  Saviour,  so  particu- 
larly docs  he  relate  all  circumstances  of  that 
transaction,  though  modestly,  as  in  other  parts  of 
his  gospel,  concealing  his  own  name.  He  was  at 
the  same  time  with  his  brother  called  by  our  Lord 
both  to  the  disciplcship  and  apostolate  ;  by  far  the 
youngest  of  all  the  apostles,  as  the  ancients  gene- 
rally affirm,  and  his  great  age  seems  to  evince, 
living  near  seventy  years  after  our  Saviour's  suf- 
fering. 

2.  There  is  not  much  said  concerning  him  in 
the  sacred  story,  more  than  what  is  recorded  of 
him  in  conjunction  with  his  brother  James,  which 
we  have  already  remarked  in  his  life.    He  was 


peculiarly  dear  to  his  Lord  and  master,  being 
"  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved  ;  that  is,  treated 
with  more  freedom  and  famiharity  than  the  rest. 
And  indeed  he  was  not  only  one  of  the  three  whom 
our  Saviour  made  partakers  of  the  private  pas- 
sages  of  his  life,  but  had  some  instances  of  a  more 
particular  kindness  and  favor  conferred  upon  him. 
Witness  his  lying  in  our  Saviour's  bosom  at  the 
paschal  supper  ;  it  being  the  custom  of  those  times 
to  lie  along  at  meals  upon  couches,  so  that  the 
second  lay  with  his  head  in  the  bosom  of  him  that 
was  before  him ;  this  honorable  place  was  not 
given  to  any  of  the  aged,  but  reserved  for  our 
apostle  :  nay,  when  Peter  was  desirous  to  know 
which  of  them  our  Saviour  meant,  when  he  told 
them  that  one  of  them  should  betray  him,  and 
durst  not  himself  propound  the  question,  he  made 
use  of  St.  John  (whose  familiarity  with  him  might 
best  warrant  such  an  inquiry)  to  ask  our  Lord ; 
who  thereupon  made  them  understand,  it  was 
Judas  whom  he  designed  by  the  traitor.  This 
favor  our  apostle  endeavored  in  some  measiu*e  to 
answer  by  returns  of  particular  kindness  and  con- 
stancy to  our  Saviour,  staying  with  him  when 
the  rest  deserted  him.  Indeed,  upon  our  Lord's 
first  apprehension  he  fled  after  the  other  apostles, 
it  not  being  without  some  probabilities  of  reason, 
that  the  ancients  conceive  him  to  have  been  that 
"  young  man"  that  followed  after  Christ,  having  a 
linen  cloth  cast  about  his  naked  body ;  whom 
when  the  officers  laid  hold  upon,  he  left  the  linen 
cloth,  and  fled  naked  from  them.*  This  in  all 
likehhood  was  that  garment  that  he  had  cast 
about  him  at  supper,  (for  they  had  peculiar  vest- 
ments for  that  purpose,)  and  being  extremely  af- 
fected with  the  treason,  and  our  Lord's  approach- 
ing passion,  had  forgot  to  put  on  his  other  gar- 
ments, but  followed  him  into  the  garden  in  the 
same  habit  wherewith  he  arose  from  the  table ;  it 
being  then  night,  and  so  less  liable  to  be  taken 
notice  of  either  by  himself  or  others.  But  though 
he  fled  at  present,  to  avoid  that  sudden  violence 
that  was  offered  to  him,  yet  he  soon  recovered 
himself,  and  returned  back  to  seek  his  master, 
confidently  entered  into  the  high-priest's  hall,  and 
followed  our  Lord  through  the  several  passages 
of  his  trial,  and  at  last  waited  upon  him  (and 
for  any  thing  we  know,  was  the  only  apostle  that 
did  so)  at  his  execution,  owning  him,  as  well  as 
being  owned  by  him,  in  the  midst  of  arms  and 
guards,  and  in  the  thickest  crowd  of  his  most  in- 
veterate enemies.  Here  it  was  that  our  Lord,  by 
his  last  will  and  testament  made  upon  the  cross, 
appointed  him  guardian  of  his  own  mother,  the 
blessed  virgin :  "  When  he  saw  his  mother,  and 
the  disciple  standing  by  whom  he  loved,  he  said 
unto  his  mother,  woman,  behold  thy  son  :"f  see, 
here  is  one  that  shall  supply  my  place,  and  be  to 
thee  instead  of  a  son,  to  love  and  honor  thee,  to 
provide  and  take  care  for  thee  :  "  and  to  the  dis- 
ciple he  said,  behold  thy  mother  ;"  she  whom  thou 
shall  henceforth  deal  with,  treat  and  observe  with 
that  duty  and  honorable  regard,  which  the  relation 
of  an  indulgent  mother  challenges  from  a  pious 
and  obedient  son :  whereupon  "  he  took  her  into 
his  own  house,"  her  husband,  Joseph,  being  some 
time  since  dead,  and  made  her  a  principal  part  of 


Mark  xiv.  5L 


t  John  xix.  26,  27. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


103 


his  charge  and  care.  And  certainly  the  holy 
Jesus  could  not  have  given  a  more  honorable  tes- 
timony of  his  particular  respect  and  kindness  to 
St.  John,  than  to  commit  his  own  mother,  whom 
of  all  earthly  relations  he  held  most  dear  and  va- 
luable, to  his  trust  and  care,  and  to  substitute  him 
to  supply  that  duty  which  he  himself  paid  her 
while  he  was  here  below. 

3.  At  the  first  news  of  our  Lord's  return  from 
the  dead,  he,  accompanied  with  Peter,  presently 
hasted  to  the  sepulchre.  Indeed,  there  seems  to 
have  been  a  mutual  intimacy  between  these  two 
apostles  more  than  the  rest.  It  was  to  Peter  that 
St.  John  gave  the  notice  of  Christ's  appearing, 
when  he  came  to  them  at  the  sea  of  Tiberias  in 
the  habit  of  a  stranger ;  and  it  was  for  John  that 
Peter  was  so  solicitously  inquisitive  to  know  what 
should  become  of  him.  After  Christ's  ascension, 
we  find  these  two  going  up  to  the  temple  at  the 
hour  of  prayer,  and  miraculously  healing  the  poor 
impotent  cripple  ;  both  preaching  to  the  people, 
and  both  apprehended  together  by  the  priests  and 
Sadducees,  and  thrown  into  prison,  and  the  next 
day  brought  forth  to  plead  their  cause  before  the 
Sanhedrim.  These  were  the  two  chosen  by  the 
apostles  to  send  down  to  Samaria,  to  settle  and 
confirm  the  plantations  which  Philip  had  made  in 
those  parts,  where  they  confounded  and  baffled 
Simon  the  magician,  and  set  him  in  a  hopeful  way 
to  repentance.  To  these  St.  Paul  addressed  him- 
self, as  those  that  seemed  to  be  pillars  among  the 
rest,  who  accordingly  "  gave  him  the  right-hand 
of  fellowship  ;"  and  confirmed  his  mission  to  the 
Gentiles. 

4.  In  the  division  of  provinces  which  the  apostles 
made  among  themselves,  Asia  fell  to  his  share ; 
though  he  did  not  presently  enter  upon  his  charge, 
otherwise  we  must  needs  have  heard  of  him  in  the 
account  which  St.  Luke  gives  of  St.  Paul's  several 
journeys  into  and  residence  in  those  parts.  Proba- 
ble therefore  it  is,  that  he  dwelt  still  in  his  own 
house  at  Jerusalem,  at  least  till  the  death  of  the 
blessed  virgin,  (and  this  is  plainly  asserted  by 
Nicephorus  from  the  account  of  those  historians 
that  were  before  him,)  whose  death,  says  Euse- 
bius,  happened  anno  Christi  48,  about  fifteen  years 
after  our  Lord's  ascension.  Some  time  (probably 
years)  after  her  death,  he  took  his  journey  into 
Asia,  and  industriously  applied  himself  to  the  pro- 
pagating Christianity,  preaching  where  the  gospel 
had  not  yet  been  made  known,  and  confirming  it 
where  it  was  already  planted.  Many  churches 
of  note  and  eminency  were  of  his  foundation, 
Smyrna,  Pergamus,  Thyatira,  Sardis,  Philadel- 
phia, Laodicea,  and  others  ;  but  his  chief  place  of 
residence  was  at  Ephesus,  were  St.  Paul  had 
many  years  before  settled  a  church,  and  constitu- 
ted Timothy  bishop  of  it.  Nor  can  we  suppose 
that  he  confined  his  ministry  merely  in  Asia  Mi- 
nor, but  that  he  preached  in  other  parts  of  the 
East;  probably  in  Parthia,  his  first  epistle  being 
lancientiy  intitled  to  them  ;  and  the  Jesuits,  in  the 
relation  of  their  success  in  those  parts,  assure  us 
that  the  Bassorae  (a  people  of  India)  constantly 
affirm,  from  a  tradition  received  from  their  an- 
cestors, that  St.  John  planted  the  Christian  faith 
there. 

5.  Having  spent  many  years  in  this  employ- 
ment, he  was  at  length  accused  to  Domitian,  who  I 

9«  (22) 


had  begun  a  persecution  against  the  Cliristians, 
as  an  emment  assertor  of  atheism  and  impiety, 
and  a  public  subverter  of  the  religion  of  the  em- 
pu-e.  By  his  command  the  proconsul  of  Asia 
sent  him  bound  to  Rome,  where  his  treatment  was 
what  might  be  expected  from  so  bloody  and  bar- 
barous  a  prince ;  he  was  cast  into  a  caldron  of 
boding  oil,  or  rather  oU  set  on  fire.  But  that 
Divine  Providence  which  secured  the  three  He- 
brew  captives  in  the  flames  of  a  burning  furnace, 
brought  this  holy  man  safe  out  of  this,  one  would 
have  thought,  unavoidable  destruction.  An  in- 
stance of  so  signal  preservation  as  had  been 
enough  to  persuade  a  considering  man,  that  there 
must  be  a  divinity  in  that  religion  that  had  such 
mighty  and  solemn  attestations.  But  miracles 
themselves  will  not  convince  him  that  is  fallen 
under  a  hard  heart,  and  an  injudicious  mind.  The 
cruel  emperor  was  not  satisfied  with  this,  but 
presently  orders  him  to  be  banished  and  trans- 
ported into  an  island.     This  was  accounted  a  kind 

of  capital    punishment,    h    tm   rev    vvaov  e^opta   irapa 

'PiDfiatoii  Ktipa\iKi}v  Tiixuipiav  t/Ji/itiTo,  says  Pachymcr, 
speaking  of  this  very  instance,  where  Kt<paXiKn  Tiftutpia 
is  not  to  be  understood  as  extending  to  life,  but  loss 
of  privilege.     Therefore  this   punishment  in  the 
Roman  laws,  is  called  capitis  dirnbiulio,  (and  it 
was  the  second  sort  of  it.)  because  the  person 
thus  banished   was   disfranchised,   and   the  city 
thereby  lost  a  head.     It  succeeded  in  the  room  of 
that  ancient  punishment,  aqua  el  igni  interdicere, 
to  interdict  a  person  the  use  of  fire  and  water,  the 
two  great  and  necessary  conveniences  of  man's 
life,  whereby  was  tacitly  implied,  that  lie  must,  for 
his  own  defence,  betake  himself  into  banishment ; 
it  being  unlawful  for  any  to  accommodate  him  with 
lodging  or  diet,  or  any  thing  necessary  to  the  sup- 
port of  life.     This  banishing  into  islands  was  pro- 
perly  called  deporiano,  and  was   the   worst  and 
severest  kind  of  exile,  wiiereby  the  criminal  for- 
feited  his  estate,  and  being  bound  and  put  on  ship- 
board, was  by  public  officers  transported  into  some 
certain  island,  (wjiich  none  but  the  emperor  Jiim- 
self  might  assign,)  there  to  be  confined  to  perpe- 
tual banishment.     The  place  of  our   St.  John's 
banishment  was  not  Ephesus,  as  Chrysostom  by 
a  great  mistake  makes  it,  but  Patmos,  a  disconso- 
late island  in  the  Archipelago,  where  he  remained 
several  years,  instructing  the  inliabitants  in  the 
faith  of  Christ :  here  it  was,  about  the  latter  end 
of  Domitian's  reign,  (as  Irenaeus  tells  us,)  that  he 
wrote  his  Apocalypse,  or  book  of  Revelations; 
wherein,  by  frequent  visions  and  prophetical  re- 
presentments,  he  had  a  clear  scheme  and  pros- 
pect  of  the  state  and  condition  of  Cliristianity  in 
the  future  periods  and  ages  of  the  church.  Which 
certainly  was  not  the  least  instance  of  that  kind- 
ness and  favor  which  our  Lord  particularly  showed 
to  this  apostle  ;  and  it  seemed  very  suitable  at 
this  time,  that  the  goodness  of  God  should  over- 
power the  malice  of  men,  and  that  he  should  be 
entertained  with  the  more  immediate  converse  of 
heaven,  who  was  now  cut  off  from  all  ordinary 
conversation  and  society  with  men.     In  a  monas- 
tery of  Caloires,  or  Greek  monks,  in  this  island, 
they  show  a  dead  man's  hand  at  this  day,  the  nails 
of  whose  fingers  grow  again  as  often  as  they  are 
pared ;  which  the  Turks  will  have  to  be  one  of 
their  prophets,  while  the  Greeks  constantly  affirm 


104 


LIVES    OP   THE    APOSTLES. 


it  to  have  been  the  hand  of  St.  John,  wherewith 
he  wrote  the  Revelations ;  and,  probably,  both 
true  alike. 

6.  Domitian,  whose  prodigious  wickedness  had 
rendered  him  infamous  and  burthensome  to  the 
world,  being  taken  out  of  the  way,  Cocceius  Ner- 
va  succeeded  in  the  empire,  a  prudent  man,  and 
of  a  milder  and  more  sober  temper.  He  rescind- 
ed the  odious  acts  of  his  predecessors ;  and  by 
public  edict  recalled  those  from  banishment  whom 
the  fury  of  Domitian  had  sent  thither.  St.  John 
taking  the  advantage  of  this  general  indulgence, 
left  Patmos,  and  returned  into  Asia,  his  ancient 
charge ;  but  chiefly  fixed  his  seat  at  Ephesus,  the 
care  and  presidency  whereof  (Timothy  their  bi- 
shop  having  been  lately  martyred  by  the  people, 
for  persuading  them  against  their  heathen  feasts 
and  sports,  especially  one  called  KaTayuyiov,  where- 
in was  a  mixture  of  debauchery  and  idolatry)  he 
took  upon  him  ;  and  by  the  assistance  of  seven 
bishops,  governed  that  large  spacious  diocess. 
Nicephorus  adds,  that  he  not  only  managed  the 
affairs  of  the  church,  ordered  and  disposed  the 
clergy,  but  erected  churches,  which  surely  must 
be  meant  of  oratories,  and  little  places  for  their 
solemn  conventions,  building  churches  in  the  mo- 
dern notion,  not  being  consistent  with  the  poverty 
and  persecution  of  Christians  in  those  early  times. 
Here,  at  the  request  of  the  bishops  of  Asia,  he 
wrote  his  gospel,  (they  are  authors  of  no  credit 
and  value  that  make  it  written  during  his  confine- 
ment in  the  isle  of  Patmos,)  with  very  solemn 
preparation,  whereof  more  when  we  come  to  con- 
sider the  writings  which  he  left  behind  him. 

7.  He  lived  till  the  time  of  Trajan,  about  the 
beginning  of  whose  reign  he  departed  this  life, 
very  aged,  about  the  ninety-eighth  or  ninety-ninth 
year  of  his  life,  as  is  generally  thought.     Chry- 
sostom  is  very  positive,  that  he  was  a  hundred 
years  old  when  he  wrote  liis  gospel,  and  that  he 
lived  full  twenty  years  after  •,  the  same  is  affirmed 
by    Dorotheus,  that  he  lived  one   hundred   and 
twenty  years ;  which  to  me  seerns  altogether  im- 
probable, seeing  by  this  account  he  \nust  be  fifty 
years  of  age  when  called  to  be  an  apostle,  a  thing 
directly  contrary  to  the  whole  consent  and  testi- 
mony of  antiquity,  which  makes  him  very  young 
at  the  time  of  his  calling  to  the  apostolic  office. 
He  died  (says  the  Arabian)  "  in  the  expectation 
of  his  blessedness,"  by  which  he  means  his  quiet 
and  peaceable  departure,  in  opposition  to  a  violent 
and    bloody   death.      Indeed   Theophylact,   and 
others  before  him,  conceive  him  to  have  died  a 
martyr,  upon  no  other  ground  than  what  our  Sa- 
viour told  him  and  his  brother,  that  they  should 
drink  of  the  cup,  and  be  baptized  with  the  baptism 
wherewith  he  was  baptized,  which  Chrj'sostom 
strictly  understands  of  martyrdom  and  a  bloody 
death.     It  was,   indeed,  literally  verified  of  his 
brother  James  ;  and  for  him,  though,  as  St.  Je- 
rome observes,  he  was  not  put  to  death,  yet  may 
he  be  truly  styled  a  martyr ;  his  being  put  into  a 
vessel  of  boiling  oil,  his  many  years'  banishment, 
and  other  sufferings  in  the  cause  of  Christ,  justly 
challenging  that  honorable  title,  though  he  did  not 
actually  lay  down  his  life  for  the  testimony  of  the 
gospel,  it  being  not  want  of  good-will  either  in 
him  or  his  enemies,  but  the  Divine  Providence 
immediately   overruling  the  powers  of  nature, 


that  kept  the  malice  of  his  enemies  from  its  full 
execution. 

8.  Others,  on  the  contrary,  are  so  far  from  ad- 
mitting him  to  die  a  martyr,  that  they  question, 
nay,  peremptorily  deny  that  he  ever  died  at  aU. 
The  first  assertor,  and  that  but  obliquely,  that  I 
find  of  this  opinion,  was  Hippolytus,  bishop   of 
Porto,  and  scholar  to  Clemens  of  Alexandria,  who 
ranks  him  in  the  same  capacity  with  Enoch  and 
Elias ;    for  speaking  of  the   twofold  coming  of 
Christ,  he  tells  us,  that  his  first  coming  in  the  flesh 
had  John  the  Baptist  for  its  forerunner,  and  his  se- 
cond  to  judgment  shall  have  Enoch,  Elias  and  St. 
John.      Ephrem,  patriarch  of  Antioch,  is  more 
express  ;  he  tells  us,  there  are  three  persons  an- 
swerable to  the  three  dispensations  of  the  world 
yet  in  the   body,   Enoch,  Elias,  and  St.  John  ; 
Enoch  before  the  law,  Elias  under  the  law,  and 
St.  John  under  the  gospel ;   concerning  which 
last,  that  he  never  died,  he  confirms  both  from 
Scripture  and  tradition,  and  quotes  St.  Cyril  (I 
suppose  he  means  him  of  Alexandria)  as  of  the 
same  opinion.     The  whole  foundation  upon  which 
this  error  is  built,  was  that  discourse  that  passed 
between   our   Lord   and  Peter  concerning  this 
apostle  :  for  Christ  having  told  Peter  what  was 
to  be  his  own  fate,  Peter  inquires  what  should  be- 
come  of  St.  John,  knowing  him  to  be  "the  dis- 
ciple whom  Jesus  loved."*     Our  Lord  rebukes 
his  curiosity,  by  asking  him,  what  that  concerned 
him,  "  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is 
that  to  thee  ]"     This  the  apostles  misunderstood, 
and  a  report  presently  went  out  amongst  them, 
"  that  that  disciple  should  not  die  ;"  though  St. 
John,  who  himself  records  the  passage,  inserts  a 
caution,  "  that  Jesus  did  not  say,  he  should  not 
die  ;  but  only.  What  if  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  1 
come  1"     Which  doubtless  our  Lord  meant  of  his 
coming  (so  often  mentioned  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment) in  judgment  upon  the  Jews,  at  the  final 
overthrow  of  Jerusalem,  which  St.  John  out-lived 
many  years  ;  and  which  our  Lord  particularly  in- 
tended, when  elsewhere  he  told  them,  "  VerOy  I 
say  unto  you,  there  be  some  standing  here  which 
shall  not  taste  of  death,  till  they  see  the  Son  ol 
man  coming  in  his  kingdom."! 

9.  From  the  same  original  sprang  the  report, 
that  he  only  lay  sleeping  in  his  grave.  The  story 
was  current  in  St.  Austine's  days,  from  whom  we 
receive  this  account,  though  possibly  the  reader 
will  smile  at  the  conceit.  He  tells  us,  it  was 
commonly  reported  and  believed  that  St.  John 
was  not  dead;  but  that  he  rested  like  a  man 
asleep  in  his  grave  at  Ephesus,  as  plainly  appear- 
ed from  the  dust  sensibly  boiling  and  bubbling  up, 
which  they  accounted  to  be  nothing  else  but  the 
continual  motion  of  his  breath.  This  report  St. 
Austine  seems  inclinable  to  believe,  having  re- 
ceived  it,  as  he  tells  us,  from  very  credible  hands. 
He  further  adds,  out  of  some  apocryphal  writings, 
what  was  generally  known  and  reported,  that 
when  St  John,  then  in  health,  had  caused  his 
grave  to  be  dug  and  prepared,  he  laid  himself 
down  in  it  as  in  a  bed,  and  as  they  thought,  only 
fell  asleep.  Nicephorus  relates  the  story  more  at 
large,  from  whom  (if  it  may  be  any  pleasure  to 
entertain  the  reader  with  these  things)  we  shall 


'Johnxxi.21,22,23. 


t  Mat.  xvi.  28. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


105 


give  this  account.  St.  John,  foreseeing  his  trans- 
lation into  heaven,  took  the  presbyters  and  minis- 
ters of  the  church  of  Ephesus,  and  several  of  the 
faithful,  along  with  him  out  of  the  city,  carried 
them  unto  a  cemetery  near  at  hand,  whither  he 
himself  was  wont  to  retire,  and  very  earnestly 
recommended  the  state  of  the  churches  to  God 
in  prayer.  Which  being  done,  he  commanded  a 
grave  to  be  immediately  dug ;  and  having  in- 
structed them  in  the  more  recondite  mysteries  of 
theology,  the  most  excellent  precepts  of  a  good 
life,  concerning  faith,  hope,  and  especially  charity, 
confirmed  them  in  the  practice  of  religion,  and 
commended  them  to  the  care  and  blessing  of  our 
Saviour,  he  solemnly  took  his  leave  of  them,  sign- 
ed  himself  with  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  before 
Ihem  all  went  down  into  the  grave ;  strictly 
charging  them  to  put  on  the  grave-stone,  and  to 
make  it  fast,  and  the  next  day  to  come  and  open 
it,  and  take  a  view  of  it.  They  did  so  ;  and  having 
opened  the  sepulchre,  found  nothing  there  but  the 
grave-clothes  which  he  had  left  behind  him.  To 
all  which  let  me  add,  while  my  hand  is  in  these 
things,  what  Ephrem  relates,  that  from  this  grave, 
wherein  he  rested  so  short  a  time,  a  kind  of 
sacred  oil  or  unguent  was  wont  to  be  gathered. 
Gregory  of  Tours,  says  it  was  manna,  which  even 
in  his  time,  like  flour,  was  cast  up  from  the  se- 
pulchre, and  was  carried  up  and  down  the  world 
for  the  curing  of  diseases.  This  report  of  our 
apostle's  being  yet  ahve,  some  men  made  use  of 
to  wild  and  fantastic  purposes.  Beza  tells  us  of 
an  impostor  in  his  time,  (whom  Postellus,  who 
vainly  boasted  that  he  had  the  soul  of  Adam,  was 
wont  to  call  his  brother,)  who  publicly  professed 
himself  to  be  our  St.  John,  and  was  afterwards 
burnt  at  Tholose  in  France.  Nor  was  this  any 
more  than  what  was  done  in  the  more  early  ages 
of  Christianity.  For  Sulpitius  Severus  giving  us 
an  account  of  a  young  Spaniard  that  first  pro- 
fessed himself  to  be  Elias,  and  then  Christ  him- 
self, adds,  that  there  was  one  at  the  same  time  in 
the  east,  who  gave  out  himself  to  be  St.  John. 
So  fast  will  error,  like  circles  in  the  water,  multi- 
ply itself;  and  one  mistaken  place  of  Scripture 
gives  countenance  to  a  hundred  stories,  that  shall 
be  built  upon  it.  I  have  no  more  to  add,  but  what 
we  meet  with  in  the  Arabic  writer  of  his  life, 
(though  it  little  agrees  with  the  preceding  pas- 
sages,) who  reports,  that  there  were  none  present 
at  his  burial  but  his  disciple  Phogsir,  (probably 
Phrogor,  or  Prochorus,  one  of  the  seven  deacons, 
and  generally  said  to  have  been  St.  John's  com- 
panion and  assistant,)  whom  he  strictly  charged 
never  to  discover  his  sepulchre  to  any  ;  it  may  bo 
for  the  same  reason  for  which  it  is  thought  God 
concealed  the  body  of  Moses,  to  prevent  the  idola- 
trous worshippmg  of  his  relics :  and  accordingly 
the  Turks,  who  conceit  that  he  is  buried  in  the 
confines  of  Lydia,  pay  great  honor  and  veneration 
to  his  tomb. 

10.  St.  John  seems  always  to  have  led  a  single 
life,  and  so  the  ancients  tells  us;  nay,  St.  Am- 
brose positively  affirms,  that  all  the  apostles  were 
married,  except  St.  John  and  St.  Paul.  There 
want  not  indeed  some,  and  especially  the  middle 
writers  of  the  church,  who  will  have  our  apostle 
to  have  been  married,  and  that  it  was  his  marriage 
which  our  Lord  was  at  in  Cana  of  Galilee  invited 


thither  upon  the  account  of  his  consanguinity  and 
alHance ;  but  that  being  convinced,  by  the  miracle 
of  the  water  turned  into  wine,  he  immediately 
quitted  his  conjugal  relation,  and  became  one  of 
our  Lord's  disciples.     But  this,  as  Baronius  him- 
self confesses,  is  trifling,  and  the  issue  of  fabulous 
invention,  a  thing  wholly  unknown  to  the  fathers 
and  best  writers  of  the  church,  and  which  not 
only  has  no  just  authority  to  support  it,  but  argu- 
ments enough  to  beat  it  down.     As  for  his  natural 
temper,  he  seems  (as  we  have  observed  in  his 
brother's  life)  to  have  been  of  a  more  eager  and 
resolute  disposition,  easily  apt  to  be  inflamed  and 
provoked,  which  his  reduced  age  brought  to  a 
more  staid  and  a  calmer  temper.    He  was  polished 
by  no  study  or  arts  of  learning;  but  what  was 
wanting  in  that  was  abundantly  made  up  in  the 
excellent  temper  and  constitution  of  his   mind, 
and  that  furniture  of  divine  graces,  which  he  was 
adorned  withal.     His  humility  was  admirable,  stu- 
diously concealing  his  own  worth  and  honor ;  in  all 
his  epistles  (as  Eusebius  long  since  observed)  lie 
never  puts  down  the  honorable  titles  of  apostle  or 
evangelist,  but  only  styles  himself,  and  that  too 
but  sometimes,  presbyter,  or  elder,  alluding  pro- 
bably to  his  age,  as  much  as  office ;  in  his  gospel, 
when  he  speaks  of   "the  disciple  whom  Jesus 
loved,"   he   constantly  conceals   his  own  name, 
leaving  the  reader  to  conjecture  who  was  meant. 
Love  and  charity  he  practised  himself  and  affec- 
tionately pressed  upon  others ;  our  Lord's  great  love 
to  him  seems  to  have  inspired  his  soul  with  a 
bifTfer  and  more  generous  charity  than  the  rest : 
itls  the  great  vein  that  runs  through  his  writings, 
and  especially  his  epistles,  where  he  urges  it  as  the 
great  and  pecuhar  law  of  Christianity,  and  with- 
out which  all  other  pretences  to  Christian  religion 
are  vain  and  frivolous,  useless  and  insignificant. 
And  this  was  his  constant  practice  to  his  dying 
day.     When  age  and  weakness  grew  upon  him 
at  Ephesus,  that  he  was  no  longer  able  to  preach 
to  them,  he  used,  at  every  public  meeting,  to  be 
led  to  the  church,  and  say  no  more  to  them  than, 
"  Little  children,  love  one  another."     And  when 
his  auditors,  wearied  with  the  constant  repetition 
of  the  same  thing,  asked  him  why  he   always 
spoke  the  same,  he  answered,  because  it  was  the 
command  of  our  Lord,  and  that  if  they  did  nothing 
else,  this  alone  was  enough. 

11,  But  the  largest  measures  of  his  charity  he 
expressed  in  the  mighty  care  that  he  showed  to 
the  souls  of  men,  unweariedly  spending  himself 
in  the  service  of  the  gospel ;  travelling  from  east 
to  west  to  leaven  the  worid  with  the  principles  of 
that  holy  religion  which  he  was  sent  to  propo- 
gate,  patiently  enduring  all  torments,  breaking 
Through  all  difficulties  and  discouragements,  shun- 
ning no  dangers,  that  he  might  do  good  to  souls, 
redeem  men's  minds  from  error  and  idolatry,  and 
reduce  them  from  the  snares  of  a  debauched  and 
vicious  life.  Witness  one  famous  instance.  In 
his  visitation  of  the  churches  near  to  Ephesus,  he 
made  choice  of  a  young  man,  whom  with  a  special 
charo-e  for  his  instruction  and  education,  he  com- 
mitted to  the  bishop  of  that  place.  The  spiritual 
man  undertook  the  charge,  instructed  Ins  pupil, 
and  baptized  him  :  and  then  thinking  he  migiit  a 
little  remit  the  reins  of  discipline,  the  youth  made 
an  ill  use  of  his  liberty,  and  was  quickly  debauched 


106 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


by  bad  companions,  making  himself  captain  to  a 
company  of  highwaymen,  the  most  loose,  cruel, 
and  profligate  wretches  of  the  country.  St.  John, 
at  his  return,  understanding  this,  and  sharply  re- 
proving the  negligence  and  unfaithfulness  of  his 
tutor,  resolved  to  find  him  out ;  and  without  any 
consideration  of  what  danger  he  entered  upon,  in 
venturing  himself  upon  persons  of  desperate  for- 
tunes and  forfeited  consciences,  he  went  to  the 
mountains  where  their  usual  haunt  was;  and 
being  here  taken  by  the  sentinel,  he  desired  to  be 
brought  before  their  commander,  who  no  sooner 
espied  him  coming  towards  him  but  he  immediately 
fled.  The  aged  apostle  followed  after,  but  not 
able  to  overtake  him,  passionately  entreated  him 
to  stay,  promising  him  to  undertake  with  God  for 
his  peace  and  pardon.  He  did  so,  and  both  melted 
into  tears ;  and  the  apostle  having  prayed  with 
and  for  him,  returned  him,  a  true  penitent  and 
convert,  to  the  church.  This  story  we  have  else- 
where related  more  at  large  out  of  Eusebius,  as 
he  does  from  Clemens  Alexandrinus,  since  which 
that  tract  itself  of  Clemens  is  made  public  to  the 
world. 

12.  Nor  was  it  the  least  instance  of  his  care  of 
the  church,  and  charity  to  the  souls  of  men,  that 
he  was  so  infinitely  vigilant  against  heretics  and 
seducers,  countermining  their  artifices,  antidotinir 
against  the  poison  of  their  errors,  and  shunning  all 
communion  and  conversation  with  their  persons. 
Going  along  with  some  of  his  friends  at  Ephesus 
to  the  bath,  (whither  he  used  frequently  to  resort, 
and  the  ruins  whereof,  of  porphyry,  not  far  from 
the  place  where  stood  the  famous  temple  of  Diana, 
as  a  late  eye-witness  informs  us,  are  still  showed 
at  this  day,)  he  inquired  of  the  servant  that  waited 
there,  who  was  within  ;  the  servant  told  him, 
Cerinthus  ;  (Epiphanius  says  it  was  Ebion,  and  it 
is  not  improbable  that  they  might  be  both  there  ;) 
which  the  apostle  no  sooner  understood,  but  in 
great  abhorrency  he  turned  back  :  "  Let  us  be 
gone,  my  brethren,  (said  he,)  and  make  haste 
from  this  place  ;  lest  the  bath  wherein  there  is 
such  a  heretic  as  Cerinthus,  the  great  enemy  of 
the  truth,  fall  upon  our  heads."  This  account 
Irenteus  delivers  from  Polycarp,  St.  John's  own 
scholar  and  disciple.  This  Cerinthus  was  a  man 
of  loose  and  pernicious  principles,  endeavoring  to 
corrupt  Christianity  with  many  damnable  errors. 
To  make  himself  more  considerable,  he  struck  in 
with  the  Jewish  converts,  and  made  a  bustle  in 
that  great  controversy  at  Jerusalem  about  circum- 
cision and  the  observation  of  the  law  of  Moses. — 
But  his  usual  haunt  was  Asia  ;  where,  amongst 
other  things,  he  openly  denied  Christ's  resurrec- 
tion, affirmed  the  world  to  have  been  made  by 
angels,  broaching  unheard  of  dogmata,  and  pre- 
tendmg  thom  to  have  been  communicated  to  him 
by  angels  ;  venting  revelations  composed  by  him- 
self, as  a  great  apostle,  affirming  that  after  the 
resurrection  the  reign  of  Christ  would  commence 
here  upon  earth,  and  that  men,  living  again  at 
Jerusalem,  should,  for  the  space  of  a  thousand 
vears^,  enjoy  all  manner  of  sensual  pleasures  and 
delights :  hopmg  by  this  fools'  paradise  that  he 
should  tempt  men  of  loose  and  brutish  minds  over 
to  his  party.  Much  of  the  same  stamp  was  Ebion, 
(though  in  some  principtes  differing  from  him,  as 
error  agrees  with  itself  as  little  as  with  truth,) 


who  held  that  the  holy  Jesus  was  a  mere  and  a 
mean  man,  begotten  by  Joseph  of  Mary  his  wife, 
and  that  the  observance  of  the  Mosaic  rites  and 
laws  was  necessary  to  salvation  :  and  because 
they  saw  St.  Paul  stand  so  full  in  their  way,  they 
reproached  him  as  an  apostate  from  his  religion, 
and  rejected  his  epistles,  owning  none  but  St. 
Matthew's  gospel  in  Hebrew,  having  little  or  no 
value  for  the  rest ;  the  sabbath  and  Jewish  rites 
they  observed  with  the  Jews  ;  and  on  the  Lord's 
day  celebrated  the  memory  of  our  Lord's  resurrec- 
tion, according  to  the  custom  and  practice  of  the 
Christians. 

13.  Besides  these,  there  was  another  sort  of 
heretics  that  infested  the  church  in  St.  John's 
time,  the  Nicolaitans,  mentioned  by  him  in  his 
Revelation,  and  "whose  doctrine"  our  Lord  is 
with  a  particular  emphasis  there  said  "  to  hate  ;"* 
indeed  a  most  wretched  and  brutish  sect,  gene- 
rally supposed  to  derive  their  original  from  Nico- 
las, one  of  the  seven  deacons  whom  we  read  of  in 
the  Acts,  whereof  Clemens  of  Alexandria  gives 
this  probable  account.  This  Nicolas  having  a 
beautiful  wife,  and  being  reproved  by  the  apostles 
for  being  jealous  of  her,  to  show  how  far  he  was 
from  it,  brought  her  forth,  and  gave  any  that  would, 
leave  to  marry  her,  affirming  this  to  be  suitable 

to  that  saying,   on  irapa^prjaBai  rrj  oapKt  Set,   "that  We 

ought  to  abuse  the  fiesh."  This  speech,  he  tells 
us,  was  ascribed  to  St.  Matthias,  who  taught, 
"  that  we  must  fight  with  the  flesh  and  abuse  it," 
and  not  allowing  it  any  thing  for  pleasure,  increase 
the  soul  by  faith  and  knowledge.  These  words 
and  actions  of  his,  his  disciples  and  followers  mis- 
understanding, and  perverting  things  to  the  worst 
sense  imaginable,  began  to  let  loose  the  reins,  and 
henceforward  to  give  themselves  over  to  the  great- 
est filthiness,  the  most  shameless  and  impudent 
uncleanness,  throwing  down  all  enclosures,  mak- 
ing the  most  promiscuous  mixtures  lawful,  and 
pleasure  the  ultimate  end  and  liappiness  of  man. 
Such  were  their  principles,  such  their  practices  ; 
whereas  Nicolas,  their  pretended  patron  and  found- 
er, was,  says  Clemens,  a  sober  and  a  temperate 
man,  never  making  use  of  any  but  his  own  wife, 
by  whom  he  had  one  son,  and  several  daughters, 
who  all  lived  in  perpetual  virginity. 

14.  The  last  instance  that  we  shall  remark  of 
our  apostle's  care  for  the  good  of  the  church,  is  the 
writings  which  he  left  to  posterity  ;  whereof  the 
first  in  time,  though  placed  last,  is  his  Apocalypse, 
or  book  of  Revelations,  written  while  confined  in 
Patmos.  It  was  of  old  not  only  rejected  by  here- 
tics, but  controverted  by  many  of  the  fathers  them- 
selves. Dionysius,  bishop  of  Alexandria,  has  a 
very  large  discouse,  concerning  it ;  he  tells  us, 
that  many  plainly  disowned  this  book,  not  only  for 
the  matter,  but  the  author  of  it,  as  being  neither 
apostle,  no  nor  any  holy  or  ecclesiastical  person  ; 
that  Cerinthus  prefixed  St.  John's  name  to  it,  to 
give  the  more  plausible  title  to  his  dream  of  Christ's 
reign  upon  earth,  and  that  sensual  and  carnal  state 
that  stiould  attend  it ;  that  for  his  part  he  durst 
not  reject  it,  looking  upon  it  as  containing  wise 
and  admirable  mysteries,  though  he  could  not  fa- 
thom and  comprehend  them  ;  that  he  did  not 
measure  them  by  his  own  line,  nor  condemn,  but 


Rev.  ii.  15. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


107 


rather  admire  what  he  could  not  understand  ;  that 
he  owned  the  author  to  have  been  a  lioly  and  di- 
vinely inspired  person,  but  could  not  believe  it  to 
be  St.  John  the  apostle  and  evangelist,  neither 
style,  matter,  nor  method  agreeing  with  his  other 
writings  ;  that  in  this  he  frequently  names  him- 
self, which  he  never  does  in  any  other  ;  that  there 
were  several  Johns  at  that  time,  and  two  buried 
at  Ephesus,  the  apostle,  and  another,  one  of  the 
disciples  that  dwelt  in  Asia,  but  which  was  the 
author  of  this  book,  he  leaves  uncertain.  But 
though  doubted  of  by  some,  it  was  entertained  by 
the  far  greater  part  of  the  ancients  as  the  genuine 
work  of  our  St.  John.  Nor  could  the  setting  down 
his  name  be  any  reasonable  exception  ;  for  what- 
ever he  might  do  in  his  other  writings,  especialy 
his  gospel,  where  it  was  less  necessary,  historicil 
matters  depending  not  so  much  upon  his  authorit/, 
yet  it  was  otherwise  in  prophetic  revelations, 
where  the  person  of  the  revealer  adds  great  weigit 
and  moment ;  the  reason  why  some  of  the  pro- 
phets under  the  Old  Testament  did  so  frequently 
set  down  their  own  names.  The  diversity  of  tie 
style  is  of  no  considerable  value  in  this  case,  it 
being  no  wonder,  if  in  arguments  so  vastly  differ- 
ent, the  same  person  did  not  always  observe  the 
same  tenor  and  way  of  writing ;  whereof  there 
want  not  instances  in  some  others  of  the  apostolic 
order.  The  truth  is,  all  circumstances  concur  to 
entitle  our  apostle  to  be  the  author  of  it,  his  name 
frequently  e.xpressed,  its  being  written  in  the  island 
of  Patmos,  (a  circumstance  not  pertaining  to  any 
but  St.  John,)  his  styling  himself  "  their  brother 
.ind  companion  in  tribulation,  and  in  the  kingdom 
and  patience  of  Jesus  Christ,"  his  writing  parti- 
cular epistles  to  the  "  seven  churches  of  Asia," 
all  planted  or  at  least  cultivated  by  him ;  the  doc- 
trine in  it  suitable  to  the  apostolic  spirit  and  tem- 
per, evidently  bearing  witness  in  this  case.  That 
which  seems  to  have  given  ground  to  doubt  con- 
cerning both  its  author  and  authority,  was  its  be- 
ing a  long  time  before  it  was  universally  joined 
with  other  books  of  the  holy  canon  ;  for  contain- 
ing in  it  some  passages  directly  levelled  at  Rome, 
the  seat  of  the  Roman  empire,  and  others  which 
might  be  thought  to  symbolize  with  some  Jewish 
dreams  and  figments,  it  might  possibly  seem  fit  to 
the  prudence  of  those  times  for  a  while  to  suppress 
it.  Nor  is  the  conjecture  of  a  learned  man  to  be 
despised,  who  thinks  that  it  might  be  intrusted  in 
the  keeping  of  John  the  presbyter,  scholar  to  our 
apostle  ;  whence  probably  the  report  might  arise, 
that  he,  who  was  only  the  keeper,  was  tlie  author 
of  it.  I  add  no  more,  than  that  upon  the  account 
of  this  Apocalypse,  containing  a  prophetic  scheme 
of  the  future  state  of  the  Christian  church,  he  is 
in  a  strict  sense  a  prophet,  and  has  thereby  one 
considerable  addition  to  his  titles,  being  not  only 
an  apostle  and  evangelist,  but  a  prophet,  an  honor 
peculiar  to  himself.  Peter  was  an  apostle,  but 
properly  no  evangelist :  Mark  an  evangelist,  but 
no  apostle  :  St.  Matthew  an  apostle  and  evange- 
list, but  no  prophet :  but  St.  John  was  both  an 
apostle,  an  evangelist,  and  a  prophet. 

15.  His  gospel  succeeds,  written  (says  some) 
in  Patmos,  and  published  at  Ephesus  ;  but  as  Ire- 
nseus  and  others  more  truly,  written  by  him  after 
his  return  to  Ephesus  ;  composed  at  the  earnest 
entreaty  and  solicitation  of  the  Asian  bishops  and 


ambassadors  from  several  churches ;  in  order 
whereunto  he  first  caused  them  to  proclaim  a  ge- 
neral fast,  to  seek  the  blessing  of  heaven  on  so 
great  and  solemn  an  undertaking,  which  being 
done,  he  set  about  it.  And  if  we  may  believe  the 
report  of  Gregory,  bishop  of  Tours,  he  tells  us, 
that  upon  a  hill,  near  Ephesus,  there  was  a  pro- 
seucha,  or  uncovered  oratory,  whither  our  apostle 
nsed  often  to  retire  for  prayer  and  contemplation, 
and  where  he  obtained  of  God,  that  it  might  not 
rain  in  that  place  till  lie  had  finished  his  gospel. 
Nay,  he  adds,  that  even  in  his  time,  no  shower  or 
storm  ever  came  upon  it.  Two  causes  especially 
contributed  to  the  writing  of  it ;  the  one,  that  he 
might  obviate  the  early  heresies  of  those  times, 
especially  of  Ebion,  Cerinthus,  and  the  rest  of  tliat 
crew,  who  began  openly  to  deny  Christ's  divinity, 
and  that  he  had  any  existence  before  his  incarna- 
tion ;  the  reason  why  our  evangelist  is  so  express 
and  copious  in  that  subject.  The  other  was,  that 
he  might  supply  those  passages  of  the  evangelical 
history  which  the  rest  of  the  sacred  writers  had 
omitted.  Collecting,  therefore,  the  other  three 
evangelists,  he  first  set  to  his  seal,  ratifying  the 
truth  of  them  with  his  approbation  and  consent ; 
and  then  added  his  own  gospel  to  the  rest,  prin- 
cipally insisting  upon  the  acts  of  Christ  from  the 
first  commencing  of  his  ministry  to  the  death  of 
John  the  Baptist,  wherein  the  others  are  most  de- 
fective, giving  scarce  any  account  of  the  first  year 
of  our  Saviour's  ministry,  which  therefore  he  made 
up  in  very  large  and  particular  narrations.  He 
largely  records  (as  Nazianzen  observes)  our  Sa- 
viour's discourses  :  but  takes  little  notice  of  his 
miracles,  probably  because  so  fully  and  particularly 
related  by  the  rest.  The  subject  of  his  writing  is 
very  sublime  and  mysterious,  mainly  designing 
to  prove  Christ's  divinity,  eternal  pre-existence, 
creating  of  the  world,  &c.     Upon  which  account 

Theodoret  styles    his  gospel  ^coXoyiav    aSarov  av&pu- 

TToii  (cni  dw-ncpfiaTov,  a  theology  which  human  under- 
standings can  never  fully  penetrate  and  find  out. 
Thence,  generally  by  tiie  ancients,  he  is  resem- 
bled to  an  eagle,  soaring  aloft  within  the  clouds, 
whither  the  weak  eye  of  man  was  unable  to  follow 
him  ;  hence,  peculiarly  honored  with  the  title  of 
the  Divine,  as  if  due  to  none  but  him,  at  least  to 
him  in  a  more  eminent  and  extraordinary  manner. 
Nay,  the  very  Gentile  philosophers  themselves 
could  not  but  admire  his  writings  :  witness  Ame- 
lius,  the  famous  Platonist  and  regent  of  Porphyry's 
school  at  Alexandria  ;  who,  quoting  a  passage 
out  of  the  beginning  of  St.  John's  gospel,  swore 
by  Jupiter,  that  tiiis  barbarian  (so  the  proud 
Greeks  counted  and  called  all  that  differed  from 
them,)  "  had  hit  upon  the  right  notion,  when  he 
affirmed,  that  the  Word  that  made  all  thing?  was 
in  the  beginning,  and  in  place  of  prime  dignity 
and  authority  with  God  ;  and  was  that  God  that 
created  all  things,  in  whom  every  thing  that  was 
made  had,  according  to  its  nature,  its  life  and 
being;  that  he  was  incarnate,  and  clothed  with  a 
body  wherein  he  manifested  the  glory  and  magni- 
ficence of  his  nature  ;  that  after  his  death  he  re- 
turned to  the  repossession  of  divinity,  and  became 
the  same  God  which  he  was  before  his  as.suming 
a  body,  and  taking  the  human  nature  and  fiesh 
upon  him."  I  have  no  more  to  observe,  but  tliat 
his  gospel  was  afterwards  translated  into  Hebrew, 


108 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


and  kept  by  the  Jews  cv  airoKpv<poii,  among  their 
secret  archives  and  records  in  their  treasury  at 
Tiberias ;  where  a  copy  of  it  was  found  by  one 
Joseph  a  Jew,  afterwards  converted,  and  whom 
Constantine  the  Great  advanced  to  the  honor  of  a 
count  of  the  empire,  who  breaking  open  the  trea- 
sury, though  he  missed  of  money,  found  books 
beyond  all  treasure,  St.  Matthew  and  St.  John's 
gospels  and  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  in  Hebrew ; 
the  reading  whereof  greatly  contributed  towards 
liis  conversion. 

16.  Besides  these,  our  apostle  wrote  three 
epistles :  the  first  whereof  is  catholic,  calculated 
for  all  times  and  places,  containing  most  excellent 
rules  for  the  conduct  of  the  Christian  life,  press- 
ing to  holines  and  purity  of  manners,  and  not  to 
rest  in  a  naked  and  empty  profession  of  religion ; 
not  to  be  led  away  with  the  crafty  insinuations  of 
seducers  ;  antidoting  men  against  the  poison  of 
the  Gnostic  principles  and  practices,  to  whom  it 
is  not  to  be  doubted  but  that  the  apostle  had  a 
more  particular  respect  in  this  epistle.  Accord- 
ing to  his  wonted  modesty  he  conceals  his  name, 
it  being  of  more  concernment  with  wise  men, 
what  it  is  that  is  said,  than  who  it  is  that  says  it. 
And  this  epistle  Eusebius  tells  us  was  univer- 
sally received,  and  never  questioned  by  any  ;  an- 
ciently, as  appears  by  St.  Augustine,  inscribed  to 
the  Parthians,  though  for  what  reason  I  am  to  learn, 
unless  (as  we  hinted  before)  it  was,  because  he 
himself  had  heretofore  preached  in  those  parts  of 
the  world.  The  other  two  epistles  are  but  short, 
and  directed  to  particular  persons  ;  the  one  a  lady 
of  honorable  quality,  the  other  the  charitable  and 
hospitable  Gaius,  so  kind  a  friend,  so  courteous  an 
entertainer  of  all  indigent  Christians.  These 
epistles,  indeed,  were  not  of  old  admitted  into  the 
canon,  nor  are  owned  by  the  church  in  Syria  at 
this  day  ;  ascribed  by  many  to  the  younger  John, 
disciple  to  our  apostle.  But  there  is  no  just  cause 
to  question  who  was  their  father,  seeing  both  the 
doctrine,  phrase,  and  design  of  them  do  sufficiently 
challenge  our  apostle  for  their  author.  These 
are  all  the  books  wherein  it  pleased  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  make  use  of  St.  John  for  its  penman  and 
secretary ;  in  the  composure  whereof,  though  his 
style  and  character  be  not  florid  and  elegant,  yet 
is  it  grave  and  simple,  short  and  perspicuous. 
Dionysius  of  Alexandria  tells  us,  that  in  his  gos- 
pel and  first  epistle  his  phrase  is  more  neat  and 
elegant,  there  being  an  accuracy  in  the  con- 
texture both  of  words  and  matter,  that  runs 
through  all  the  reasonings  of  his  discourses  ;  but 
that  m  the  Apocalypse,  the  style  is  nothing  so 
pure  and  clear,  being  frequently  mixed  with  more 
barbarous  and  improper  phrases.  Indeed  his  Greek 
generally  abounds  with  Syriasms  ;  his  discourses 
rnany  times  abrupt,  set  off  with  frequent  anti- 
theses, connected  with  copulatives,  passages  often 
repeated,  things  at  first  more  obscurely  propound- 
ed, and  which  he  is  forced  to  enlighten  with  sub- 
sequent explications,  words  peculiar  to  himself, 
and  phrases  used  in  an  uncommon  sense.  All 
which  concur  to  render  his  way  of  writing  less 
grateful,  possibly,  to  the  masters  of  eloquence, 
and  an  elaborate  curiosity.  St.  Jerome  observes, 
that  m  citing  places  out  of  the  Old  Testament, 
he  more  immediately  translates  from  the  Hebrew 
original,  studying  to  render  things  word  for  word : 


for  being  an  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews,  admirably 
skilled  in  the  language  of  his  country,  it  probably 
made  him  less  exact  in  his  Greek  composures, 
wherein  he  had  very  httle  advantage,  besides 
what  was  immediately  communicated  from  above. 
But  whatever  was  wanting  in  the  politeness  of 
his  style,  was  abundantly  made  up  in  the  zeal  of 
his  temper,  and  the  excellency  and  sublimity  of 
his  matter;  he  truly  answered  his  name,  Boa- 
nerges, for  he  spake  and  wrote  like  a  "son  of 
thunder."  Whence  it  is  that  his  writings,  but 
especially  his  gospel,  have  such  great  and  honor- 
able things  spoken  of  them  by  the  ancients.  "The 
evangelical  writings"  (says  St.  Basil)  "  transcend 
the  other  parts  of  the  holy  volumes  ;  in  other  parts 
Gcd  speaks  to  us  by  servants,  the  prophets  ;  but 
in  the  gospels  our  Lord  himself  speaks  to  us, 
but  among  all  the  evangelical  preachers,  none 
lik«  St.  John,  the  son  of  thunder,  for  the  sublime- 
ness  of  his  speech  and  the  height  of  his  discourses, 
bejond  any  man's  capacity  duly  to  reach  and  com- 
prehend." "St.  John,  as  a  true  son  of  thunder," 
(says  Epiphanius,)  "  by  a  certain  greatness  of 
speech  peculiar  to  himself,  does,  as  it  were,  out 
of  the  clouds  and  the  dark  recesses  of  wisdom 
acquaint  us  with  divine  doctrines  concerning  the 
Son  of  God."  To  which  let  me  add  what  St. 
Cyril  of  Alexandria,  among  other  things,  says 
concerning  him,  "  that  whoever  looks  to  the  su- 
blimity of  his  incomprehensible  notions,  the  acumen 
and  sharpness  of  his  reason,  and  the  quick  infer- 
ences of  his  discourses  constantly  succeeding  and 
following  upon  one  another,  must  needs  confess 
that  his  gospel  perfectly  exceeds  all  admiration."* 


ST.   PHILIP. 

Of  all  parts  of  Palestine,  Galilee  seems  to  have 
passed  under  the  greatest  character  of  ignominy 
and  reproach.  The  country  itself,  because  bor- 
dering upon  the  idolatrous  uncircumcised  nations, 
called  Galilee  of  the  Gentiles,  the  people  gene- 
rally beheld  as  more  rude  and  boisterous,  more 
unpolished  and  barbarous  than  the  rest,  not  re- 
markable either  for  civility  or  religion.  "The 
Galileans  received  him,  having  seen  all  the  things 

♦  The  life  and  character  of  St.  John  can  never 
be  contemplated  without  deep  interest  by  the 
thoughtful,  meditative  Christian.  No  result  of 
historical  inquiry  can  be  more  valuable  than  the 
development  and  representation  of  such  a  character 
to  the  spiritual  understanding.  Placed,  in  common 
with  his  associates,  under  circumstances  the  most 
remarkable,  tried  like  them  by  temptations  and  suf- 
ferings the  most  affecling,  he  bore  like  them  in 
meekness  and  patience  the  yoke  and  the  burden 
which  his  Divine  Master  had  allotted  for  his  por- 
tion. But  he  is  distinguished  from  among  the  rest 
by  the  sublime  demonstrations  of  spiritual  power 
acting  on  the  mind.  It  was  to  him  the  Lord  com- 
mitted the  charge  of  revealing  the  mysteries  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  where  it  stretches  out  and 
reaches  unto  the  throne  of  the  Father :  and  surely 
nothing  can  be  more  calculated  to  delight  the  mind 
of  a  thinking  man,  than  the  examination  of  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  one  so  highly  favored,  and 
so  wonderfully  acted  upon  and  occupied,  passed 
through  the  world.— Ed. 


LIVES    OP   THE    APOSTLES, 


109 


that  he  did  at  Jerusalem  at  the  feast,  for  they  also 
went  up  unto  the  feast  ;"*  as  if  it  had  been  a 
wonder  and  a  matter  of  very  strange  remark,  to 
see  so  much  devotion  in  them,  as  to  attend  the 
solemnity  of  the  passover.  Indeed  both  Jew 
and  Gentile  conspired  in  this,  that  they  thought 
ihey  could  not  fix  a  greater  title  of  reproach  upon 
our  Saviour  and  his  followers,  than  that  of  Gali- 
lean. "  Can  any  good  thing  come  out  of  Naza- 
reth V'f  a  city  in  this  province,  said  Nathanael, 
concerning  Christ.  "Search  and  look,  (say  the 
Pharisees,)  for  out  of  Galilee  ariseth  no  prophet  ;"J 
as  if  nothing  but  briars  and  thorns  could  grow  in 
that  soil.  But  there  needs  no  more  to  confute 
this  ill-natured  opinion,  than  that  our  Lord  not 
only  made  choice  of  it  as  the  seat  of  his  ordinary 
residence  and  retreat,  but  that  hence  he  chose 
those  excellent  persons,  whom  he  made  his  apos- 
tles, the  great  instruments  to  convert  the  world. 
Some  of  these  we  have  already  given  an  account 
ofj  and  more  are  yet  behind. 

2.  Of  this  number  was  St.  Philip,  born  at  Beth- 
saida,  a  town  near  the  sea  of  Tiberias,  the  city 
of  Andrew  and  Peter.  Of  his  parents  and  way 
of  life  the  history  of  the  gospel  takes  no  notice ; 
though  probably  he  was  a  fisherman,  the  trade 
generally  of  that  place.  He  had  the  honor  of 
being  first  called  to  the  discipleship,  which  thus 
came  to  pass.  Our  Lord,  soon  after  his  return 
from  the  wilderness,  having  met  with  Andrew  and 
his  brother  Peter,  after  some  short  discourse 
parted  from  them  :1(  and  the  very  next  day,  as  he 
was  passing  through  Galilee,  he  found  Philip, 
whom  he  presently  commanded  to  follow  him  ;  the 
constant  form  which  he  used  in  making  choice  of 
his  disciples,  and  those  that  did  inseparably  attend 
upon  him.  So  that  the  prerogative  of  being  first 
called,  evidently  belongs  to  Philip,  he  being  the 
first-fruits  of  our  Lord's  disciples.  For  though 
Andrew  and  Peter  were  the  first  that  came  to, 
and  conversed  with  Christ,  yet  did  they  immedi- 
ately return  to  their  trade  again,  and  were  not 
called  to  the  discipleship  till  above  a  whole  year 
after,  when  John  was  cast  into  prison.  Clemens 
Alexandrinus  tells  us,  that  it  was  Philip,  to  whom 
our  Lord  said,  (when  he  would  have  excused  him- 
self at  present,  that  he  must  go  bury  his  father,) 
"  Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead,  but  follow  thou 
me."  But  besides  that  he  gives  no  account 
whence  he  derived  this  intelligence,  it  is  plainly 
inconsistent  with  the  time  of  our  apostle's  call, 
who  was  called  to  be  a  disciple  a  long  time  before 
that  speech  and  passage  of  our  Saviour.  It  may 
seem  justly  strange  that  Philip  should  at  first  sight 
so  readily  comply  with  our  Lord's  command,  and 
turn  himself  over  into  his  service,  having  not  yet 
seen  any  miracle  that  might  evince  his  Messiah- 
ship,  and  divine  commission,  nor  probably  so  much  | 
as  heard  any  tidings  of  his  appearance ;  and  es- 
pecially being  a  Galilean,  and  so  of  a  more  rustic 
and  unyielding  temper.  But  it  cannot  be  doubted 
but  that  he  was  admirably  versed  in  the  writings 
of  Moses  and  the  prophets.  Metaphrastes  as- 
sures us  (though  how  he  came  to  know  it  other- 
wise  than  by  conjecture  I  cannot  imagine)  that 
from  his  childhood  he  had  excellent  education,  that 


'John  iv. 45. 
I  John  i.  44. 


t  John  i.  46.       tJohnvii.  52. 


he  frequently  read  over  Moses's  books,  and  con- 
sidered the  prophecies  that  related  to  our  Saviour ; 
and  was,  no  question,  awakened  with  the  general 
expectations  that  were  then  on  foot  among  the 
Jews,  (the  date  of  the  prophetic  Scriptures  con- 
cernmg  the  time  of  Christ's  coming  being  now 
run  out,)  that  the  Messiah  would  immediately  ap- 
pear. Add  to  this,  that  the  divine  grace  did  more 
immediately  accompany  the  command  of  Christ, 
to  inchne  and  dispose  him  to  believe  that  this  per- 
son  was  that  very  Messiah  that  was  to  come. 

3.  No  sooner  had  religion  taken  possession  of 
his  mind,  but  like  an  active  principle  it  began  to 
ferment  and  diffuse  itself.  Away  he  goes,  and 
finds  Nathanael,  a  person  of  note  and  eminency, 
acquaints  him  with  the  tidings  of  the  new-found 
Messiah,  and  conducts  him  to  him.  So  forward 
is  a  good  man  to  draw  and  direct  others  in  the 
same  way  to  happiness  with  himself.  After  his 
call  to  the  apostleship  much  is  not  recorded  of 
him  in  the  holy  story.  It  was  to  him  that  our 
Saviour  propounded  the  question,  what  they  should 
do  for  so  much  bread  in  the  wilderness  as  would 
feed  so  vast  a  multitude  ;*  to  which  he  answered, 
that  so  much  was  not  easily  to  be  had  ;  not  con- 
sidering, that  to  feed  two  or  twenty  thousand  are 
equally  easy  to  Almighty  power,  when  pleased  to 
exert  itself.  It  was  to  him  that  the  Gentile  pro- 
selytes that  came  up  to  the  passover  addressed 
themselves,  when  desirous  to  see  our  Saviour,  a 
person  of  whom  they  had  heard  so  loud  a  farne.f 
It  was  with  him  that  our  Lord  had  that  discourse 
concerning  himself  a  little  before  the  last  paschal 
supper.  The  holy  and  compassionate  Jesus  had 
been  fortifying  their  minds  with  fit  considerations 
against  his  departure  from  them  ;  had  told  them, 
that  he  was  going  to  prepare  room  for  them  in  the 
mansion  of  the  blessed ;  that  he  himself  was 
"  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life,  and  that  no  man 
could  come  to  the  Father  but  by  him,"]:  and  that 
knowing  him  "they  both  knew  and  had  seen  the 
Father."  Philip,  not  duly  understanding  the 
force  of  our  Saviour's  reasonings,  begged  of  him 
that  he  would  "  show  them  the  Father,  and  then 
this  would  abundantly  convince  and  satisfy  them. 
We  can  hardly  suppose  he  should  have  such  gross 
conceptions  of  the  deity,  as  to  imagine  the  Father 
vested  with  a  corporeal  and  visible  nature  ;  but 
Christ  having  told  them  that  they  had  seen  him, 
and  he  knowing  that  God  of  old  w-as  wont  fre- 
quently to  appear  in  a  visible  shape,  he  only  de- 
sired that  he  would  manifest  himself  to  them  by 
some  such  appearance.  Our  Lord  gently  re- 
proved his  ignorance,  that  after  so  long  attend- 
ance upon  his  instructions,  he  should  not  know 
that  he  was  the  image  of  his  Father,  the  express 
characters  of  his  infinite  wisdom,  power,  and  good- 
ness appearing  in  him  ;  that  he  said  and  did  no- 
thing but  by  his  Father's  appointment,  which  it 
they  did  not  beheve,  his  miracles  were  a  sufficient 
evidence  ;  that  therefore  such  demands  were  un- 
necessary and  impertinent;  and  that  it  argued 
great  weakness,  after  more  than  three  years' 
education  under  his  disciphne  and  institution,  to 
be  so  unskilful  in  those  matters.  God  expects  im- 
provement according  to  men's  opportunities ;  to 
be  old  and  ignorant  in  the  school  of  Christ,  de- 


John  vi. 5.       t John  xii.  22.       tJohnxiv,  8. 


110 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


serves  both  reproach  and  punishment ;  it  is  the 
character  of  very  bad  persons,  that  "  they  are 
ever  learning,  but  never  come  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth."* 

4.  In  the  distribution  of  the  several  regions  of 
the  world  made  by  the  apostles,  though  no  mention 
be  made  by  Origen  or  Eusebius  what  part  fell  to 
our  apostle,  yet  we  are  told  by  others,  that  the 
Upper  Asia  was  his  province,  (the  reason  doubt- 
less why  he  is  said,  by  many,  to  have  preached  and 
planted  Christianity  in  Scythia,)  where  he  applied 
himself,  with  an  indefatigable  diligence  and  indus- 
try, to  recover  men  out  of  the  snare  of  the  devil, 
to  the  embracing  and  acknowledging  of  the 
truth.  By  the  constancy  of  his  preaching  and 
the  efficacy  of  his  miracles,  he  gained  numerous 
converts,  whom  he  baptized  into  the  Christian 
faith,  at  once  curing  both  souls  and  bodies  ;  their 
Bouls  of  error  and  idolatry,  their  bodies  of  infirmi- 
ties and  distempers  ;  healing  diseases,  dispossess- 
ing demons,  settling  churches,  and  appointing 
them  guides  and  ministers  of  religion. 

Having  for  many  years  successfully  managed 
his  apostolical  office  in  all  those  parts,  he  came, 
in  the  last  periods  of  his  life,  to  Hierapolis  in 
Phrygia,  a  city  rich  and  populous,  but  answering 
its  name  in  its  idolatrous  devotions.  Amongst  the 
many  vain  and  trifling  deities  to  whom  they  paid 
religious  adoration,  was  a  serpent,  or  dragon,  (in 
memory  no  doubt  of  that  infamous  act  of  Jupiter, 
who  in  the  shape  of  a  dragon  insinuated  himself 
into  the  embraces  of  Proserpina,  his  own  daughter, 
begot  of  Ceres,  and  whom  these  Phrygians  cliiefly 
worshipped,  as  Clemens  Alexandrinus  tells  us  ;  so 
little  reason  had  Baronius  to  say  that  they  wor- 
shipped no  such  God,)  of  a  more  prodigious  big- 
ness than  the  rest,  which  they  worshipped  with 
great  and  solemn  veneration.  St.  Philip  was 
troubled  to  see  the  people  so  wretchedly  enslaved 
to  error,  and  therefore  continually  solicited  heaven, 
till  by  prayer  and  calUng  upon  the  name  of  Christ, 
he  had  procured  the  death,  or  at  least  vanishing 
of  this  famed  and  beloved  serpent :  which  done, 
he  told  them  how  unbecoming  it  was  to  give  di- 
vine honors  to  such  odious  creatures ;  that  God 
alone  was  to  be  worshipped,  as  the  great  parent 
of  the  world,  who  had  made  man  at  first  after  his 
own  glorious  image  ;  and  when  fallen  from  that 
innocent  and  happy  state,  had  sent  his  own  Son 
into  the  world  to  redeem  him,  who  died  and  rose 
from  the  dead,  and  shall  come  again  at  the  last 
day,  to  raise  men  out  of  their  graves,  and  to  sen 
tence  and  reward  tbcm  according  to  their  works 
The  success  was,  that  the  people  were  ashamed 
of  their  fond  idolatry,  and  many  broke  loose  from 
their  chains  of  darkness,  and  ran  over  to  Christi- 
anity. Whereupon  the  great  enemy  of  mankind 
betook  himself  to  his  old  methods,  cruelty  and 
persecution.  The  magistrates  of  the  city  seize 
the  apostle,  and  having  put  him  into  prison,  caused 
him  to  be  severely  whipped  and  scourged.  This 
preparatory  cruelty  passed,  he  was  led  to  execu- 
tion, and  being  bound,  was  hanged  up  by  the  neck 
against  a  pillar;  though  others  tell  us  that  he 
was  crucified.  We  are  further  told,  that  at  his 
execution  the  earth  began  suddenly  to  quake,  and 
the  ground  whereon  the  people  stood,  to  sink 


under  them  ;  which,  when  they  apprehended  and 
bewailed  as  an  evident  act  of  divine  vengeance 
pursuing  them  for  their  sins,  it  as  suddenly  stopped, 
and  went  no  further.  The  apostle  being  dead, 
his  body  was  taken  down  by  St.  Bartholomew, 
his  fellow-sufl'erer,  though  not  finally  executed, 
and  Mariamne,  St.  Philip's  sister,  who  is  said  to 
have  been  the  constant  companion  of  his  travels, 
and  decently  buried ;  after  which  having  confirm- 
ed the  people  in  the  faith  of  Christ,  they  departed 
from  them. 

6.  That  St.  Philip  was  married  is  generally  af- 
firmed by  the  ancients  ;  Clemens  of  Alexandria 
reckons  him  one  of  the  married  apostles,  and  that 
he  had  daughters  whom  he  disposed  in  marriage : 
Polycrates,  bishop  of  Ephesus,  tells  us,  that  Philip, 
one  of  the  twelve  apostles,  died  at  Hierapolis,  with 
two  of  li's  daughters  who  persevered  in  their  virgi- 
nity, and  that  he  had  a  thii-d  which  died  at  Ephe- 
sus. The  truth  is,  the  not  careful  distinguishing 
between  Philip  the  deacon  (who  lived  at  Csesarea, 
and  of  whose  four  virgin  daughters  we  read  in  the 
history  of  the  apostles'  acts)  and  our  apostle,  has 
bred  some  confusion  among  the  ancients  in  this 
matter;  nay,  has  made  some  conclude  them  to 
have  been  but  one  and  the  same  person.  But  with 
how  little  reason,  will  appear  to  any  one  that  shall 
consider,  that  Philip,  who  was  chosen  to  be  one  of 
the  seven  deacons,  could  not  be  one  of  the  apos- 
tolical college,  the  apostles  declaring  upon  that  oc- 
casion, that  they  had  affairs  of  a  higher  nature  to 
attend  upon  :  "  then  the  twelve  called  the  multitude 
of  the  disciples  unto  them,  and  said.  It  is  not  rea- 
son that  we  should  leave  the  word  of  God,  and 
serve  tables ;  wherefore  look  ye  out  among  you 
seven  men  of  honest  report,  &c.,  and  they  chose 
Stephen  and  Phihp,  &c.  (among  you)  the  body  of 
the  people,  not  from  among  the  apostles.  So  when, 
upon  the  persecution  that  arose  upon  Stephen's 
death,  the  church  was  dispersed,  "  they  were  all 
scattered  abroad  throughout  the  regions  of  Judsea 
and  Samaria,  (and  Philip,  the  deacon,  among  the 
rest,  who  went  down  to  the  city  of  Samaria,)  ex- 
cept the  apostles,"  who  tarried  behind  at  Jerusa- 
lem. And  when  Philip  had  converted  and  bap- 
tized considerable  numbers  in  that  place,  he  was 
forced  to  send  for  two  of  the  apostles  from  Jeru- 
salem, that  so  by  apostolic  hands  they  might  be 
confirmed,  and  might  "  receive  the  Holy  Ghost." 
Which  had  been  wholly  needless  had  Philip  him- 
self been  of  the  twelve  apostles.  But  it  is  need- 
less to  argue  in  this  matter,  the  accounts  concern- 
ing them  being  so  widely  different ;  for  as  they 
differed  in  their  persons  and  offices,  the  one  a 
deacon,  the  other  an  apostle,  so  also  in  the  num- 
ber of  their  children,  four  daughters  being  ascribed 
to  the  one,  while  three  only  are  attributed  to  the 
other.  He  was  one  of  the  apostles  who  left  no 
sacred  writings  behind  him  ;  the  greater  part  of 
the  apostles  (as  Eusebius  observes)  having  httle 
leisure  to  write  books,  being  employed  in  ministries 
more  immediately  useful  and  subservient  to  the 
happiness  of  mankind  :  though  Epiphanius  tells 
us,  that  the  Gnostics  were  wont  to  produce  a  gos- 
pel forged  under  St.  Philip's  name,  which  they 
abused  to  the  patronage  of  their  horrible  prin 
ciples,  and  more  brutish  practices.* 


^2Tiin.iii. 


■■  This  memoir  of  St.  Philip  very  remarkably 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


Ill 


ST.    BARTHOLOMEW. 

That  St.  Bartholomew  was  one  of  the  twelve 
apostles  the  evangelical  history  is  most  express  and 
clear,  though  it  seems  to  take  no  further  notice  of 
him  than  the  bare  mention  of  his  name.  Which 
doubtless  gave  the  first  occasion  to  many,  both 
anciently  and  of  later  time,  not  without  reason  to 
suppose,  that  he  lies  concealed  under  some  other 
name,  and  that  this  can  be  no  other  than  Natha- 
nael,  one  of  the  first  disciples  that  came  to  Christ. 
Accordingly  we  may  observe,  that  as  St.  John 
never  mentions  Bartholomew  in  the  number 
of  the  apostles,  so  the  other  evangelists  never 
take  notice  af  Nathanae),  probably  because  the 
same  person  under  two  several  names  ;  and  as  in 
John,  Philip  and  Nathanael  are  joined  together  in 
their  coming  to  Christ,  so  in  the  rest  of  the  evan- 
gelists, Philip  and  Bartholomew  are  constantly 
put  together,  without  the  least  variation  ;  for  no 
other  reason,  I  conceive,  than  because  they  were 
jointly  called  to  the  discipleship,  so  they  are  joint- 
ly referred  in  the  apostolic  catalogue  ;  as  after- 
wards we  find  them  joint-companions  in  the  wri- 
tings of  the  church.  But  that  which  renders  the 
thing  most  specious  and  probable  is,  that  we  find 
Nathanael  particularly  reckoned  up  with  the  other 
apostles  to  whom  our  Lord  appeared  at  the  sea  of 
Tiberias  after  his  resurrection ;  where  there  were 
together  Simon  Peter,  and  Thomas,  and  Natha- 
nael of  Cana  in  Galilee,  and  the  two  sons  of  Ze- 
bedee,*  and  two  other  of  his  disciples,  who  pro- 
bably were  Andrew  and  Philip.  That  by  disci- 
ples is  here  meant  apostles  is  evident,  partly  from 
the  names  of  those  that  are  reckoned  up,  partly 
because  it  is  said,  that  "  this  was  the  third  time 
that  Jesus  appeared  to  his  disciples,"f  it  being 
plain  that  the  two  foregoing  appearances  were 
made  to  none  but  the  apostles. 

2.  Had  he  been  more  than  an  ordinary  disci- 
ple, I  think  no  tolerable  reason  can  be  given  why, 
in  filling  up  the  vacancy  made  by  the  death  of 
Judas,  he,  being  so  eminently  qualified  for  the 
place,  should  not  have  been  propounded  as  well  as 
either  Barsabas  or  Matthias,  but  that  he  was  one 
of  the  twelve  already.  Nor,  indeed,  is  it  reason- 
able to  suppose  that  Bartholomew  should  be  his 
proper  name,  any  more  than  Barjona  the  proper 
name  of  Peter,  importing  no  more  than  his  rela- 
tive capacity,  either  as  a  son  or  a  scholar.  As  a 
son  it  notes  no  more  than  his  being  "  the  son  of 
Tholmai,"  a  name  not  uncommon  amongst  the 
Jews,  it  being  customary  among  them  for  the  son 
thus  to  derive  his  name  ;  so  Barjona,  Bartimoeus, 
the  son  of  Timseus,  &c.,  and  to  be  usually  called 
rather  by  this  relative  than  his  own  proper  name : 


proves  how  much  may  be  done  in  apostolic  biogra- 
phy by  the  diligent  accumulation  of  the  incidents 
found  scattered  in  the  recognized  sources  of  infor- 
mation. But  the  very  brevity  of  the  life  of  Philip, 
and  some  others  of  the  apostles,  conveys  a  moral  of 
itself.  How  tempered  ought  to  be  the  love  and  de- 
sire of  personal  fame,  when  it  is  seen,  that  those  who 
were  made  the  pillars  of  the  everlasting  church  of 
God,  took  so  little  care  to  leave  any  memorial  of 
themselves  but  that  which  is  ibund  in  the  nameof 
the  ministers — the  apostles — the  sent  of  Christ ! — 


Ed. 


■John  xxi.  1,  2. 
96 


t  Ibid.  V.  14. 
(23) 


thus  Joseph  was  called  Barsabas  ;  thus  Barnabas 
constantly  so  styled,  though  his  right  name  was 
Joses.  Or  else  it  may  relate  to  him  as  a  disciple 
of  some  particular  sect  and  institution  among  the 
Jews  ;  it  being  a  custom  for  scholars,  out  of  a 
great  reverence  for  their  masters,  or  first  institu- 
tors  of  that  way,  to  adopt  their  names,  as  Ben- 
ezra,  Ben-uziel,  &c.  And  this  will  be  much  more 
evident  if  the  observation  which  one  makes  be 
true,  (which  yet  I  will  not  contend  for,)  that  as 
several  sects  in  the  Jewish  church  denominated 
themselves  from  some  famous  person  of  that  na- 
tion,  the  Essenesfrom  Enosh,  the  Sadducees  from 
Sadoc,  so  there  were  others  that  called  themselves 
Tholmseans,  from  Tholmai,  scholar  to  Heber,  the 
ancient  master  of  the  Hebrews,  who  was  of  the 
race  or  institution  of  the  Enakim,  who  flourished 
in  Debir  and  Hebron,  with  whom  Abraham  was 
confederate,  that  is,  joined  himself  to  tlieir  socie- 
ty. And  of  this  order  and  institution,  he  tells  us, 
Nathanael  seems  to  have  been,  hence  called  Bar- 
tholomew, the  son  or  scholar  of  the  Tholomfeans  ; 
hence  said  to  be  "an  Israelite  indeed,"  that  is, 
one  of  the  ancient  race  of  the  schools  and  socie- 
ties of  Israel.  This,  if  so,  would  give  us  an  ac- 
count of  his  skill  and  ability  m  the  Jewish  law, 
wherein  he  is  generally  supposed  to  have  been  a 
doctor  or  teacher.  But  whichsoever  of  these  two 
accounts  of  his  denomination  sliall  find  most  favor 
with  the  reader,  either  of  them  will  serve  my  pur- 
pose, and  reconcile  the  difference  that  seems  to  be 
between  St.  John  and  the  other  evangelists  about 
his  name ;  the  one  styling  him  by  his  proper  name, 
the  other  by  his  relative  and  paternal  title.  To  all 
this,  if  necessary,  I  might  add  the  consent  of  learn- 
ed men,  who  have  given  in  their  suffrages  in  this 
matter,  that  it  is  but  the  same  person  under  several 
names.  But  hints  of  this  may  suffice.  These  ar- 
guments,  I  confess,  are  not  so  forcible  and  con- 
victive  as  to  command  assent ;  but  with  all  their 
circumstances  considered,  are  sufficient  to  incline 
and  sway  any  man's  belief.  The  great  and  indeed 
only  reason  brought  against  it,  is  what  St.  Augus- 
tine objected  of  old,  that  it  is  not  probable  that 
our  Lord  would  choose  Nathanael,  a  doctor  of  the 
law,  to  be  one  of  his  apostles,  as  designing  to  con- 
found the  wisdom  of  the  world  by  the  preaching 
of  the  idiot  and  the  unlearned.  But  this  is  no 
reason  to  him  that  considers,  that  this  objection 
equally  lies  against  St.  Philip,  for  whose  skill  in 
the  law  and  prophets  there  is  as  much  evidence, 
in  the  history  of  the  gospel,  as  for  Nathanael's  ; 
and  much  more  strongly  against  St.  Paul,  than 
whom  (besides  his  abilities  in  all  human  learn- 
ing) there  were  few  greater  masters  in  the  Jewish 
law. 

3.  This  difficulty  being  cleared,  we  proceed  to 
a  more  particular  account  of  our  apostle.  By 
some  he  is  thought  to  have  been  a  Syrian,  of  a 
noble  e.xtract,  and  to  have  derived  his  pedigree 
from  the  Ptolemies  of  Egypt,  upon  no  other 
ground,  I  believe,  than  the  mere  analogy  and 
sound  of  the  name.  It  is  plain  that  he,  as  the  rest 
of  the  apostles,  was  a  Galilean  ;  and  of  IVatha- 
nael  we  know  it  is  particularly  said,  that  he  was 
of  Cana  in  Galilee.  The  Scripture  takes  no  no- 
tice of  his  trade  or  way  of  life,  though  some  cir- 
cumstances might  seem  to  intiinato  that  he  was  a 
fisherman,  which  Theodoret  affirms  of  the  apos- 


112 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


ties  in  general,  and  another  particularly  reports  ot 
our  apostle.  At  his  first  coming  to  Christ  (sup- 
posing  him  still  the  same  with  Nathanael)  he  was 
conducted  by  Philip,  who  told  him  that  now  they 
had  found  the  long-looked  for  Messiah,  so  oft  fore- 
told by  Mises  and  the  prophets,  "Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth, the  son  of  Joseph  :"*  and  when  he  objected, 
that  the  Messiah  could  not  be  born  at  Nazareth, 
Pinlipbids  him  come  and  satisfy  himself.  At  his 
first  approach  our  Lord  entertains  him  with  this 
honorable  character,  that  he  was  an  Israelite  in- 
deed, a  man  of  true  simplicity  and  integrity ;  as 
indeed  his  simplicity  particularly  appears  in  this, 
that  when  told  of  Jesus  he  did  not  object  against 
the  meanness  of  his  original,  the  low  condition  of 
his  parents,  the  narrowness  of  their  fortunes,  but 
only  against  the  place  of  his  birth,  which  could 
not  be  Nazareth  ;  the  prophets  having  perempto- 
rily foretold,  that  the  Messiah  should  be  born  at 
Bethlehem.  By  this,  therefore,  he  appeared  to  be 
a  true  Israelite  ;  one  that  "  waited  for  redemption 
in  Israel ;"  which  from  the  date  of  the  Scripture 
predictions,  he  was  assured  did  now  draw  nigh. 
Surprised  he  was  at  our  Lord's  salutation,  won- 
dering how  he  should  know  him  so  well  at  first 
eight,  whose  face  he  had  never  seen  before.  But 
he  was  answered,  that  he  had  seen  him  while  he 
was  yet  under  the  fig-tree,  before  Philip  called 
him.  Convinced  with  this  instance  of  our  Lord's 
divinity,  he  presently  made  his  confession,  that 
now  he  was  sure  that  Jesus  was  the  promised 
Messiah,  the  Son  of  God,  whom  he  had  appointed 
to  be  the  king  and  governor  of  his  churcli.  Our 
Saviour  told  him,  that  if  upon  this  inducement  he 
could  believe  him  to  be  the  Messiah,  he  should 
have  far  greater  arguments  to  confirm  his  faith  ; 
yea,  that  ere  long  he  should  behold  the  heavens 
opened  to  receive  him,  and  the  angels  visibly  ap- 
pearing to  wait  and  attend  upon  him. 

4.  Concerning  our  apostle's  travels  up  and  down 
the  world,  to  propagate  the  Christian  faith,  we 
shall  present  the  reader  with  a  brief  account, 
though  we  cannot  warrant  the  exact  order  of 
them.  That  he  went  as  far  as  India  is  owned  by 
all,  which  surely  is  meant  of  the  hither  India,  or 
the  part  of  it  lying  next  to  Asia.  Socrates  tells 
us,  it  was  the  India  bordering  upon  Ethiopia, 
meaning  no  doubt  the  Asian  ^Ethiopia ;  (whereof 
we  shall  speak  in  the  life  of  St  Thomas  ;)  Sophro- 
nius  calls  it  the  fortunate  India  ;  and  tells  us  that 
here  he  left  behind  him  St.  Matthew's  gospel, 
whereof  Euscbius  gives  a  more  particular  relation  : 
ihat  when  Pantaenus,  a  man  famous  for  his  skill  in 
philosophy,  and  especially  the  institutions  of  the 
Stoics,  but  much  more  for  his  hearty  affection  to 
Christianity,  in  a  devout  and  zealous  imitation  of 
the  apostles,  was  inflamed  with  a  desire  to  pro- 
pagate the  Christian  religion  upon  the  eastern 
countries;  he  came  as  far  as  India  itself.  Here, 
amongst  some  that  yet  retained  the  knowledge  of 
Christ,  he  found  St.  Matthew's  gospel  written  in 
Hebrew,  left  here  (as  the  tradition  was)  by  St. 
Bartholomew,  one  of  the  twelve  apostles,  when  he 
preached  the  gospel  to  these  nations. 

5.  After  his  labors  in  these  parts  of  the  world, 
he  returned  to  the  more  western  and  northern  parts 
of  Asia.     At  Hierapolis,  in  Phrygia,  we  find  him  in 


John  i.  45. 


company  with  St.  Philip,  instructing  that  place  in 
the  principles  of  Christianity,  and  convincing  them 
of  the  folly  of  their  blind  idolatries.  Here,  by  the 
enraged  magistrates,  he  was  at  the  same  time  with 
Philip  designed  for  martyrdom  :  in  order  where- 
unto  he  was  fastened  upon  the  cross,  with  an  in- 
tent to  despatch  him  ;  but  upon  a  sudden  convic- 
tion that  the  Divine  justice  would  revenge  their 
death,  he  was  taken  down  again  and  dismissed. 
Hence,  probably,  he  went  into  Lycaonia ;  the  people 
whereof  Chrysostom  assures  us,  he  instructed  and 
trained  up  in  the  Christian  discipline.  His  last 
remove  was  to  Albanople,  in  Armenia  the  Great, 
(the  same  no  doubt  which  Nicephorus  calls  Urba- 
nople,  a  city  of  Cilicia,)  a  piace  miserably  over- 
grown with  idolatry  ;  from  which,  while  he  sought 
to  reclaim  the  people,  he  was,  by  the  governor  of 
the  place,  commanded  to  be  crucified ;  which  he 
cheerfully  underwent,  comforting  and  confirming 
the  convert  Gentiles  to  the  last  minute  of  his  life. 
Some  add,  that  he  was  crucified  with  his  head 
downwards  ;  others  that  he  was  flayed,  and  his 
skin  first  taken  off,  which  might  consist  well  enough 
with  his  crucifixion,  excoriation  being  a  punish- 
ment in  use,  not  only  in  Egypt,  but  amongst  the 
Persians,  next  neighbors  to  these  Armenians,  (as 
Ammianus  Marcellinus  assures  us;  and  Plutarch 
records  a  particular  instance  of  Mesabates,  the  Per- 
sian eunucli,  first  flayed  alive,  and  then  crucified,) 
from  whom  they  might  easily  borrow  this  piece  of 
barbarous  and  inhuman  cruelty.  Respecting  the 
several  stages  to  which  his  body  was  removed  after 
his  death  ;  first  to  Daras,  a  city  in  the  borders  of 
Persia,  then  to  Liparis,  one  of  the  ^^olian  islands  ; 
thence  to  Beneventum,  in  Italy,  .and  last  of  all  to 
Rome  ;  they  that  are  fond  of  those  things,  and  have 
better  leisure,  may  inquire.  Heretics  persecuted 
his  memory  after  his  death,  no  less  than  heathens 
did  his  person  while  alive,  by  forging  and  father- 
ing a  fabulous  gospel  upon  his  name  ;  which,  to- 
gether ^v'ith  others  of  like  stamp,  Gelasius,  bishop 
of  Rome,  justly  branded  as  apocryphal,  altogether 
unvvorthy  the  name  and  patronage  of  an  apostle. 
And  perliaps  of  no  better  authority  is  the  sentence 
which  Dionysius,  the  pretended  Areopagite,  re- 
records  of  our  apostle,  Kat  roXA)7V  &to\oyiav  uvai,  xai 
i^a^ig'rjv.      Kai    to    evayyc^iov  TrXaru    Kat   jxeya.  Kai    av&i( 

avvTCTftij^evov,  "that  thoology  is  both  copious,  and 
yet  very  small ;  and  the  gospel  diffuse  and  large, 
and  yet  withal  concise  and  short,"  which  he,  ac- 
cording to  his  vein,  expounds  concerning  the 
boundless  benignity,  but  withal  incomprehensible- 
ness  of  the  divine  nature,  which  is  ppaxv'^cKTOi  afia 
icai  aUyoz,  quickly  despatched,  because  ineffable, 
and  is  not  without  the  veil  discoverable  to  any, 
but  those  that  have  got  above,  not  only  all  sense 
and  matter,  but  of  all  sense  and  understanding ; 
that  is,  to  the  very  height  of  mystical  and  unin- 
telligible religion. 


ST.    MATTHEW. 

St.  Matthew,  called  also  Levi,  was,  though  h 
Roman  officer,  a  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews,  (both 
his  names  speaking  him  purely  of  Jewish  extract 
and  original,)  and  probably  a  Galilean,  and  whom 
I  should  have  concluded  born  at  or  near  Caper- 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


113 


nautn  ;  but  that  the  Arabic  writer  of  his  life  tells 
us,  he  was  born  at  Nazareth,  a  city  in  the  tribe  of 
Zebulun,  famous  for  the  habitation  of  Joseph  and 
Mary,  but  especially  for  the  education  and  resi- 
dence of  our  blessed  Saviour  :  who,  though  born 
at  Bethlehem,  was  both  conceived  and  bred  up 
here,  where  he  lived  the  whole  time  of  his  private 
life,  whence  lie  derived  the  title  of  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth. St.  Matthew  was  the  son  of  Alpheus  and 
Mary,  sister  or  kinswoman  to  the  blessed  virgin  : 
in  the  same  Arabic  author  his  father  is  called 
Ducu,  and  his  mother  Karutias,  both  originally 
descended  of  the  tribe  of  Issachar  ;  nothing  being 
more  common  among  the  Jews,  than  for  the  same 
person  to  have  several  names  ;  these  latter  proba- 
bly expressed  in  Arabic,  according  to  their  Jewish 
signification.  His  trade  or  way  of  life  was  that  of 
a  publican,  or  toll-gatherer,  to  the  Romans ;  (which 
probably  had  been  his  father's  trade ;  his  name 
denoting  a  broker,  or  money-changer,)  an  office  of 
bad  report  among  the  Jews.  Indeed,  among  the 
Romans,  it  was  accounted  a  place  of  power  and 
credit,  and  honorable  reputation,  not  ordinarily 
conferred  upon  any  but  Roman  knights ;  insomuch, 
that  T.  Fl.  Sabinus,  father  to  the  Emperor  Ves- 
pasian, was  the  publican  of  the  Asian  provinces, 
an  office  which  he  discharged  so  much  to  the  con- 
tent and  satisfaction  of  the  people,  that  they  erect- 
ed statues  to  him  with  this  inscription  :  KAAns 
TEAJiNHSANTi,  "To  him  that  has  well  managed 
the  publican-office."  These  officers  being  sent 
into  the  provinces  to  gather  the  tributes,  were 
wont  to  employ  the  natives  under  them,  as  per- 
sons best  skilled  in  the  affairs  and  customs  of  their 
iwn  country.  Two  things  especially  concurred 
10  render  this  office  odious  to  the  Jews.  First, 
that  the  persons  that  managed  it  were  usually 
covetous  and  great  exactors  ;  for  having  them- 
selves farmed  the  customs  of  the  Romans,  they 
nust  gripe  and  scrape  by  all  methods  of  extortion, 
that  they  might  be  able  both  to  pay  their  rent,  and 
to  raise  gain  and  advantage  to  themselves  :  which 
doubtless  Zacclu-eus,  the  chief  of  these  farmers, 
was  sensible  of,  when,  after  his  conversion,  he 
offered  four-fold  restitution  to  any  man  from  whom 
he  had  taken  any  thing  by  fraud  and  evil  arts.* 
And  upon  this  account  they  became  infamous  even 
among  the  Gentiles  themselves,  who  commonly 
speak^of  them  as  cheats,  and  thieves,  and  public 
robbers,  and  worse  members  of  a  community,  more 
voracious  and  destructive  in  a  city  than  wild  beasts 
in  the  forest.  The  other  thing  that  made  the 
Jews  so  much  detest  them  was,  that  this  tribute 
was  not  only  a  grievance  to  their  purse-s,  but  an 
affront  to  the  liberty  and  freedom  of  their  nation  ; 
for  they  looked  upon  themselves  as  a  free-born 
people,  and  that  they  had  been  immediately  invest- 
ed in  this  privilege  by  God  himself,  and  accord- 
ingly beheld  this  as  a  daily  and  standing  instance 
of  their  slavery ;  which  of  all  other  things  they 
could  least  endure,  and  which  therefore  betrayed 
them  into  so  many  unfortunate  rebellions  against 
the  Romans.  Add  to  this,  that  these  pubhcans 
were  not  only  obliged,  by  the  necessity  of  their 
trade,  to  have  frequent  dealings  and  converse  with 
the  Gentiles,  (which  the  Jews  held  unlawful  and 
abominable,)   but  that,  being  Jews   themselves, 

*  Luke  xix.  8 


they  rigorously  exacted  these  things  of  their  bre- 
thren, and  thereby  seemed  to  conspire  with  the  Ro- 
mans to  entail  perpetual  slavery  upon  their  own 
nation.  For,  though  TertuUian  thought  that  none 
but  Gentiles  were  employed  in  this  sordid  office, 
yet  the  contrary  is  too  evident  to  need  any  argu- 
ment to  prove  it. 

2.  By  these  means  publicans  became  so  univer- 
sally abhorred  by  the  Jewish  nation,  that  it  was 
accounted  unlawful  to  do  them  any  office  of  com- 
mon kindness  and  courtesy  ;  nay,  tlicy  held  it  no 
sin  to  cozen  and  overreach  a  publican,  and  that 
with  the  solemnity  of  an  oath ;  they  might  not  eat 
or  drink,  walk  or  travel  with  them  ;  they  were 
looked  upon  as  common  thieves  and  robbers  ;  and 
money  received  of  them  mi^ht  not  be  put  to  the 
rest  of  a  man's  estate,  it  being  presumed  to  have 
been  gained  by  rapine  and  violence  ;  they  were 
not  admitted  as  persons  fit  to  give  testimony  and 
evidence  in  any  cause  :  so  infamous  were  they,  as 
not  only  to  be  banished  all  communion  in  the  mat- 
ters of  divine  worship,  but  to  be  shunned  in  all 
affairs  of  civil  society  and  commerce,  as  the  pests 
of  their  country,  persons  of  an  infectious  converse, 
of  as  vile  a  cla^s  as  heathens  tliemselves.  Hence 
the  common  proverb  among  them :  "  Take  not  a 
wife  out  of  that  family  wlierein  there  is  a  publican, 
for  they  are  all  publicans  ;"  that  is,  thieves,  rob- 
bers, and  wicked  sinners.  To  this  provtybial 
usage  our  Lord  alludes,  when  speaking  of  a  con- 
tumacious sinner,  whom  neither  private  reproofs, 
nor  the  public  censures  and  admonitions  of  the 
church  can  prevail  upon  :  "  Let  him  be  unto  thee" 
(says  he)  "  as  an  heathen  and  a  publican  ;"*  as 
elsewhere,  publicans  and  sinners  are  yoked  to- 
gether, as  persons  of  equal  esteem  and  reputation 
Of  this  trade  and  office  was  our  St.  Matthew  ;  and 
it  seems  more  particularly  to  have  consisted  in 
gathering  the  customs  of  commodities  that  came 
by  the  sea  of  Galilee,  and  the  tribute  which  pas- 
sengers were  to  pay  that  went  by  water  ;  a  thing 
frequently  mentioned  in  the  Jewish  writings; 
where  we  are  also  told  of  the  tickcf,  consisting  of 
two  greater  letters  written  in  paper  or  some  such 
matter,  called  the  ticket  or  signature  of  the  publi- 
cans, which  the  passenger  had  with  him  to  certify 
them  on  the  other  side  the  water,  that  he  iiad 
already  paid  the  toll  or  custom :  upon  which  ac- 
count, the  Hebrew  gospel  of  St.  Matthew,  pub- 
lished by  Munster,  renders  publican  "  the  Lord  of 
the  passage."  For  this  purpose  they  kept  their 
office  or  custom-house  by  the  sea-side,  that  they 
might  be  always  near  at  hand  ;  and  here  it  was 
(as  St.  Mark  intimates)  that  Matthew  had  his 
toll-booth,  where  "  he  sat  at  the  receipt  of  custom." 
3.  Our  Lord  having  lately  cured  a  famous  para- 
lytic, retired  out  of  Capernaum;  to  walk  by  the 
sea-side,t  where  he  taught  the  people  that  flock- 
ed after  him.  Here  he  espied  Matthew,  sitting  in 
his  custom-office,  whom  he  called  to  come  and  fol- 
low him  :  the  man  was  rich,  had  a  wealthy  and 
gainful  trade,  was  a  wise  and  prudent  person,  (no 
fools  being  put  into  that  office,)  and  understood,  no 
doubt,  what  it  would  cost  him  to  comply  with  this 
new  employment ;  that  he  must  exchange  wealth 
for  poverty,  a  custom-house  for  a  prison,  gainful 


•  Matth.  xviii.  17. 

t  Matth.  ix.9;  Mark  ii.  13,  M;  Luke  v. 27— 29. 


114 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


masters  for  a  naked  and  despised  Saviour.  But 
he  overlooked  all  these  considerations,  left  all  his 
interests  and  relations,  to  become  our  Lord's  disci- 
ple, and  to  embrace  (as  Chrysostom  observes,)  a 
more  spiritual  way  of  commerce  and  traffic.  We 
cannot  suppose  that  he  was  before  wholly  unac- 
quainted with  our  Saviour's  person  or  doctrine, 
especially  living  at  Capernaum,  the  place  of 
Christ's  usual  residence,  where  his  sermons  and 
miracles  were  so  frequent ;  by  which  he  could  not 
but  in  some  measure  be  prepared  to  receive  the 
impressions  which  our  Saviour's  call  now  made 
upon  him.  And  to  show  that  he  was  not  discon- 
tented at  his  change  nor  apprehended  himself  a 
loser  by  this  bargain,  he  entertained  our  Lord  and 
his  disciples  at  a  great  dinner  in  his  house,  whither 
he  invited  his  friends,  especially  those  of  his  own 
profession,  piously  hoping  that  they  also  might  be 
caught  by  our  Saviour's  converse  and  company. 
The  Pharisees,  whose  eye  was  constantly  evil 
where  another  man's  was  good,  and  who  would 
either  find  or  make  occasions  to  snarl  at  him,  be- 
gan to  suggest  to  his  disciples,  that  it  was  unbe- 
coming so  pure  and  holy  a  person  as  their  master 
pretended  himself  to  be,  thus  familiarly  to  converse 
with  the  worst  of  men,  publicans  and  sinners,  per- 
sons infamous  to  a  proverb.  But  he  presently  re- 
plied to  them,  that  they  were  the  sick  that  needed 
the  physician,  not  the  sound  and  healthy  ;  that  his 
company  was  most  suitable  where  the  necessities" 
of  souls  did  most  require  it ;  that  God  himself  pre- 
ferred acts  of  mercy  and  charity,  especially  in  re- 
claiming sinners,  and  doing  good  to  souls,  infinitely 
before  all  ritual  observances,  and  the  nice  rules  of 
persons  conversing  with  one  another ;  and  that 
the  main  design  of  his  coming  into  the  world  was 
not  to  bring  the  righteous,  or  those  who,  like  them- 
selves, proudly  conceited  themselves  to  be  so,  and 
in  a  vain  opinion  of  their  own  strictness,  loftUy 
scorned  all  mankind  besides  ;  but  sinners,  modest, 
Immble,  self-convinced  offenders,  to  repentance, 
and  to  reduce  them  to  a  better  state  and  course  of 
life. 

4.  After  his  election  to  the  apostolate,  he  con- 
tinued with  the  rest  till  our  Lord's  ascension  ;  and 
then,  for  the  first  eight  years  at  least,  preached  up 
and  down  Judsea.  After  which,  being  to  betake 
himself  to  the  conversion  of  the  Gentile  world,  he 
was  entreated  by  the  convert  Jews  to  commit  to 
writing  the  history  of  our  Saviour's  life  and  actions, 
and  to  leave  it  among  them  as  the  standing  record 
of  what  he  had  preached  to  them  ;  which  he  did 
accordingly,  and  so  composed  his  gospel,  whereof 
more  in  due  place.  Little  certainty  can  be  had  as 
to  what  travels  he  underwent  for  the  advancement 
of  the  Christian  faith,  go  irrecoverably  is  truth  lost 
in  a  crowd  of  legendary  stories.  ^Ethiopia  is  ge- 
nerally assigned  as  the  province  of  his  apostolical 
ministry.  Metaphrastes  tells  us,  that  he  went  first 
into  Parthia,  and  having  successfully  ])lanted  Chris- 
tianity in  those  parts,  thence  travelled  into  ^Ethi- 
opia,  that  is,  the  Asiatic  iEthiopia,  lying  near  to  In- 
dia :  where,  by  preaching  and  miracles,  he  mightily 
triumphed  over  errors  and  idolatry,  convinced  and 
converted  multitudes,  ordained  spiritual  guides  and 
pastors  to  confirm  and  build  them  up,  and  bring 
over  others  to  the  faith,  and  then  finished  his  own 
course.  As  for  what  is  related  by  Nicephorus,  of ' 
his  going  into  the  coimtry  of  the  cannibals,  consti-  ' 


tuting  Plato,  one  of  his  followers,  bishop  of  Myr- 
mena ;  of  Christ's  appearing  to  him  in  the  form  of 
a  beautiful  youth,  and  giving  him  a  v;and,  which 
on  his  pitching  it  into  the  ground,  immediately 
grew  up  into  a  tree  ;  of  his  strangely  converting 
the  prince  of  that  country,  of  his  numerous  mira- 
cles, peaceable  death,  and  sumptuous  funerals,  with 
abundance  more  of  the  same  stamp  and  coin,  they 
are  justly  to  be  reckoned  amongst  those  fabulous 
reports  that  have  no  pillar  or  ground  either  of 
truth  or  probability  to  support  them.  Most  proba- 
ble it  is  (what  an  ancient  writer  affirms)  that  he 
suffered  martyrdom  at  Naddaber,  a  city  of  iEthi- 
opia,  but  by  what  kind  of  death  is  altogether  un- 
certain. VVliether  this  Naddaber  be  the  same 
with  Beschberi,  where  the  Arabic  writer  of  his  hfe 
affirms  him  to  have  suffered  martyrdom,  let  others 
inquire  :  he  also  adds,  that  he  was  buried  at  Ar- 
thaganetu  Caesarea,  but  where  that  is,  is  to  me  un- 
known. Dorotheus  makes  him  honorably  buried 
at  Hierapolis  in  Parthia,  one  of  the  first  places  to 
which  he  preached  the  gospel. 

5.  He  was  a  great  instance  of  the  power  of  re- 
ligion, how  much  a  man  may  be  brought  off  to  a 
better  temper.  If  we  reflect  upon  his  circum- 
stances, while  yet  a  stranger  to  Christ,  we  shall  find 
that  the  world  had  very  great  advantages  upon 
him.  He  was  become  a  master  of  a  plentiful 
estate,  engaged  in  a  rich  and  a  gainful  trade,  sup- 
ported by  the  power  and  favor  of  the  Romans, 
prompted  by  covetous  inclinations,  and  these  con- 
firmed by  long  habits  and  customs.  And  yet  not- 
withstanding all  this,  no  sooner  did  Christ  call, 
but  without  the  least  scruple  or  dissatisfaction,  he 
flung  up  all  at  once  ;  and  not  only  renounced  (as 
St.  Basil  observes)  his  gainful  incomes,  but  ran  an 
immediate  hazard  of  the  displeasure  of  his  masters 
that  employed  him,  for  quitting  their  service,  and 
leaving  his  accounts  entangled  and  confused  be- 
hind him.  Had  our  Saviour  been  a  mighty  prince, 
it  had  been  no  wonder  that  he  should  run  over  to 
his  service  ;  but  when  he  appeared  under  all  the 
circumstances  of  meanness  and  disgrace,  when  he 
seemed  to  promise  his  followers  nothing  but  misery 
and  suffering  in  this  life,  and  to  propound  no  other 
rewards  but  the  invisible  encouragements  of  ano 
ther  world;  his  change  in  this  case  was  tlie  morp 
strange  and  admirable.  Indeed  so  admirable,  that 
Porphyry  and  Juhan  (two  subtle  and  acute  adver- 
saries of  the  Christian  religion)  hence  took  occa- 
sion to  charge  him  either  with  falsehood  or  with 
folly  ;  either  that  he  gave  not  a  true  account  of  the 
thing,  or  that  it  was  very  weakly  done  of  him,  so 
hastily  to  follow  any  one  that  called  him.  But 
the  holy  Jesus  was  no  common  person ;  in  all  his 
commands  there  was  somewhat  more  than  ordi- 
nary. Indeed  St.  Jerome  conceives,  that  besides 
the  divinity  that  manifested  itself  in  his  miracles, 
there  was  a  divine  brightness,  and  a  kind  of  ma 
jesty  in  our  Saviour's  looks,  that  at  first  sight  was 
attractive  enough  to  draw  persons  after  him.  How- 
ever his  miraculous  powers,  that  reflected  a  lustre 
from  every  quarter,  and  the  efficacy  of  his  doctrine 
accompanied  with  the  grace  of  God,  made  way 
for  the  summons  that  was  sent  our  apostle,  and 
enabled  him  to  conquer  all  oppositions  that  stood 
in  the  way  to  hinder  him. 

6.  His  contempt  of  the  world  further  appeared 
in  his  e.xeniplary  temperance  and  abstemiousness 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


115 

butes  tlie  translation  to  St.  James  the  Less.    The 

Dest  IS,  It  matters  not  much  whether  it  was  trans- 
ated  by  an  apostle  or  some  disciple,  so  lona  as 
the  apostles  approved  the  version,  and  that'tiie 
church  has  ever  received  the  Greek  copy  for  au- 
hentic,  and  reposed  it  in  the  sacred  canon.  And 
therefore,  when  the  late  Arian  advocate  brin<rs 
m  one  of  ns  party,  challenging  the  divine  an- 
hority  of  this  gospel,  because  but  a  translation, 
he  might  have  remembered  it  is  such  a  translation 
as  has  all  the  advantages  of  an  original ;  as  bein.r 
translated  while  the  apostles  were  yet  in  being  to 
supervise  and  ratify  it,  and  whose  authority  has 
always  been  held  sacred  and  invif.lable  by  the 
whole  church  of  God.  But  the  plain  truth  of  the 
case  is,  St.  Mattiiew  is  a  back-friend  to  the  anti- 
tnmtarian  cause,  as  recording  that  express  com- 
mand,  "  Go  teach  all  nations,  baptizing  them  in  the 
name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost."  Which  words  must  needs  be  suppo- 
sititious, and  added  by  some  ignorant  hand,  for  no 
other  reason  but  because  they  make  against  thorn. 
Nay,  the  whole  gospel  we  see  must  bo  discarded, 
rather  than  stand  in  the  way  of  a  dear  and  beloved 
opinion. 

8.  After  the  Greek  translation  was  entertained, 
the  Hebrew  copy  was  ciiieHy  owned  and  used  by 
the  Nazaraei,  a  middle  sect  of  men  between  Jews 
and  Christians  :  with  the  Christians  they  believed 
in  Christ,  and  embraced  his  religion  ;  with  the 
Jews  they  adhered  to  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of 
the  Mosaic  law  ;  and  hence  tliis  gospel  came  to 
be  styled  "the  Gospel  according  to  the  Hebrews," 
and  "the  Gospel  of  tiie  Nazareiies."  By  them  it 
was,  by  degrees,  interpolated  ;  several  passages 
of  the  evangelical  history,  which  they  liad  heard 
either  from  the  apostles  or  those  who  had  fami- 
liarly conversed  with  them,  being  inserted,  which 
the  ancient  fathers  frequently  refer  to  in  their 
writings  ;  as  by  the  Ebionites  it  was  mutilated, 
and  many  things  cut  off,  for  the  same  reason  for 
which  the  followers  of  Cerintiius,  though  making 
use  of  the  greatest  part  of  it,  rejected  the  rest, 
because  it  made  so  much  against  them.  Tliis 
Hebrew  copy  (tliough  whether  e.vacfly  the  same 
as  it  was  written  by  St.  Matthew,  I  will  not  say) 
was  found,  among  other  books,  in  the  treasury  of 
the  Jews  at  Tiberias,  by  Joseph  a  Jew,  and  after 
his  conversion,  a  man  of  great  honor  and  esteem 
in  the  time  of  Constantino  :  another,  St.  Jerome 
assures  us,  was  kept  in  the  library  at  Cjesarea  in 
his  time  ;  and  another  by  the  Nazarenes  at  Bo- 
roea,  from  whom  he  had  the  liberty  to  transcribe 
it,  and  which  he  afterwards  translated  both  into 
Greek  and  Latin  ;  with  this  particular  observa- 
tion, that  inquofing  thetoxtof  the  Old  Testament, 
the  evangelist  immediately  follows  the  Hebrew, 
without  taking  notice  of  the  translation  of  the 
thing  is  so  universally  and  uncontrolably  asserted  i  Septuagint.  A  copy  also  of  this  gospel  was,  anno 
by  all  antiquity,  not  one  that  I  know  of,  after  the  j  485,  dug  up  and  found  in  the  grave  of  Barnabas 
strictest  inquiry  I  could  make,  dissenting  in  this  '  in  Cyprus,  transcribed  with  his  own  hand.  But 
matter,  and  who  certainly  had  far  greater  oppor-  these  copies  are  long  since  perished  ;  and  for 
tunities  of  being  satisfied  in  these  things,  than  we  those  that  have  been  since  published  to  flic  world, 
can  have  at  so  great  a  distance.  It  was  no  doubt  j  both  by  Tile  and  Munster,  were  there  no  other 
soon  after  translated  into  Greek,  though  by  whom  argument,  tliey  too  openly  betray  themselves, 
St.  Jerome  professes  he  could  not  tell ;  Theophy-  by  their  barbarous  and  improper  style,  not  to 
lact  says  it  was  reported  to  have  been  done  by  i  be  the  genuine  issue  of  that  less  corrujjt  and  bet- 
St.  John  ;  but  Athanasius  more  expressly  attri- 1  ter  age. 


from  all  the  delights  and  pleasures,  yea,  the  ordi- 
nary conveniences  and  accommodations  of  it ;  so 
far  from  indulging  his  appetite  with  nice  and  deli- 
cate curiosities,  that  he  refused  to  gratify  it  with 
lawful  and  ordinary  provisions,  eating  no  flesh  ;  his 
usual  diet  being  nothing  but  herbs,  roots,  seeds, 
and  berries.  But  what  appeared  most  remarkable 
in  him,  and  which,  though  the  least  v-irtuc  in  itself, 
is  the  greatest  in  a  wise  man's  esteem  and  value, 
was  his  humility ;  mean  and  modest  in  his  own 
conceit,  in  honor  preferring  others  before  himself. 
Whereas  the  other  evangelists  in  describino-  the 
apostles  by  pairs,  constantly  place  him  before 
Thomas,  he  modestly  places  him  before  himself. 
The  rest  of  the  evangelists  openly  mention  the 
honor  of  his  apostleship,  but  speak  of  his  former 
sordid,  dishonest,  and  disgraceful  course  of  hfe  only 
under  the  name  of  Levi,  while  he  himself  sets  it 
down,  with  all  its  circumstances,  under  his  own 
proper  and  common  name.  Which  as  at  once  it 
commends  his  own  candor  and  ingenuity,  so  it 
administers  to  us  this  not  unuseful  consideration, 
that  the  greatest  sinners  are  not  excluded  the 
lines  of  divine  grace;  nor  can  any,  if  penitent, 
have  just  reason  to  despair,  when  publicans  and 
sinners  are  taken  in.  And  as  St.  Matthew  him- 
self does  freely  and  impartially  record  his  own  vile 
and  dishonorable  course  of  life;  so  the  two  other 
evangelists,  though  setting  down  the  story,  take 
notice  of  him  only  under  another  name ;  to  teach 
us  to  treat  a  penitent  brother  with  all  modesty  and 
tenderness.  "If  a  man  repent"  (say  the  Jews; 
"  let  no  man  say  to  him.  Remember  thy  former 
works  ;"  which  they  explain  not  only  concerning 
Israelites,  but  even  strangers  and  proselytes.  It 
being  against  the  rules  of  civility,  as  well  as  the 
laws  of  religion,  when  a  man  hath  repented,  to 
upbraid  and  reproach  him  with  the  errors  and  fol- 
lies of  his  past  life. 

7.  The  last  thing  that  calls  for  any  remarks  in 
the  life  of  this  apostle  is  his  gospel,  written  at  the 
entreaty  of  the  Jewish  converts  ;  and  as  Epipha- 
nius  tells  us,  at  the  command  of  the  apostles,  while 
he  was  yet  in  Palestine,  about  eight  years  after 
the  death  of  Christ :  though  Nicephorus  will  have 
it  to  have  been  written  fifteen  years  after  our 
Lord's  ascension  ;  and  Irenseus  yet  much  wider, 
who  seems  to  imply  that  it  was  written  while 
Peter  and  Paul  preached  at  Rome,  which  was 
not,  according  to  the  common  account,  till  near 
thirty  years  after.  But  most  plain  it  is,  that  it 
must  be  written  before  the  dispersion  of  the  apos- 
lles,  seeing  St.  Bartholomew  (as  we  have  noted 
m  his  life)  took  it  along  with  him  into  India,  and 
left  it  there.  He  wrote  it  in  Hebrew,  as  primarily 
designing  it  for  the  use  of  his  countrymen  ;  and 
strange  it  is,  that  any  should  question  its  being 
originally   written   in  that   language,   when   the  \ 


116 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


ST.    THOMAS. 

It  was  customary  with  the  Jews,  when  travelling 
into  foreign  countries,  or  familiarly  conversing 
with  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  to  assume  to  them- 
selves a  Greek  or  a  Latin  name,  of  great  affinity, 
and  sometimes  of  the  very  same  signification 
with  that  of  their  own  country.  Thus  our  Lord 
was  called  Christ,  answering  to  his  Hebrew  title, 
Mashiach,  or  the  anointed  ;  Simon,  styled  Peter, 
according  to  that  of  Cephas,  which  our  Lord  put 
upon  him  ;  Tabitha,  called  Dorcas,  both  signify- 
ing a  goat :  thus  our  St.  Thomas,  according  to 
the  Syriac  importance  of  his  name,  had  the  title 
of  Didymus,  which  signifies  a  twin ;  Thomas 
which  is  called  Didymus.  Accordingly  the  Synac 
version  renders  it  Thauma,  which  is  called  Tha- 
ma  ;  that  is,  a  twin  :  the  not  understanding 
whereof  imposed  upon  Nonnus  the  Greek  para- 
phrasl,  who  makes  him  avSpa  Siuiwixov,  to  have  had 
two  distinct  names, 

^(uvufios  cvvtite  e«)/ias, 

Ov  AiSvfiov  KaXevot  ■ 


it  being  but  the  same  name  expressed  in  different 
languages.     The  history  of  the  gospel  takes  no 
particular  notice  either  of  the  country  or  kindred 
of  this  apostle.     That  he  was  a  Jew  is  certain, 
and  in  all  probability  a  Galilean.     He  was  born 
(if  we  may  believe  Symeon  Metaphrastes)  of  very 
mean  parents,  who  brought  him  up  to  the  trade 
of  fishing ;  but  withal  took  care  to  give  him  a  more 
useful  education,  instructing  him  in  the  knowledge 
of  the  Scriptures,  whereby  he  learned  wisely  to 
govern  his  life  and  manners.      He  was  together 
with  the  rest  called  to  the  apostleship  ;  and  not 
long  after  gave  an  eminent  instance  of  his  hearty 
willingness  to  undergo  the  saddest  fate  that  might 
attend  them.     For  when  the  rest  of  the  apostles 
dissuaded  our   Saviour  from   going  into  Judaea, 
(whither  he  was  now  resolved  for  the  raising  his 
dear  Lazarus,  lately  dead,)  lest  the  Jews  should 
stone  him,  as  but  a  little  before  they  had  attempt- 
ed it,  St.  Thomas  desires  them  not  to  hinder 
Christ's  journey  thither,  though  it  might  cost  their 
lives :    "  Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may  die  with 
him  ;"*  probably  concluding,  that  instead  of  raising 
Lazarus  from  the  dead,  they  themselves  should  be 
sent  with  him  to  their  own  graves.      So  that  he 
made  up  in  pious  affections  what  he  seemed  to 
want  in  the  quickness  and  acumen  of  his  under- 
standing, not  readily  apprehending  some  of  our 
Lord's   discourses,   nor   over-forward   to   believe 
more  than  himself  had  seen.     When  the  holy 
Jesus,  a  little  before  his  fatal  sufferings,  had  been 
speaking  to  them  of  the  joys  of  heaven,  and  had 
told  them  that  he  was  going  to  prepare,  that  they 
might  follow  him,  thai  they  knew  both  the  place 
whither  lie  was  going,  and  the  way  thither  ;  our 
apostle  replied,  that  they  knew  not  whither  he 
went,  and  much  less  the  way  that  led  to  it.f     To 
which  our  Lord  returns  this  short  but  satisfactory 
answer,  that  he  was  the  true  living  way,  the  Per- 
son whom  the  Father  had  sent  into  the  world  to 
show  men  the  paths  of  eternal  life  ;  and  that  they 
could  not  miss  of  heaven,  if  they  did  but  keep  to 


that  way  which  he  had  prescribed  and  chalked 
out  before  them. 

2.  Our  Lord  being  dead,  it  is  evident  how  much 
the  apostles  were  distracted  between  hopes  and 
fears  concerning  his  resurrection,  not  yet  fully  sa- 
tisfied about  it ;  which  engaged  him  the  sooner  to 
hasten  liis  appearance,  that  by  the  sensible  mani- 
festations of  himself  he  might  put  the  case  beyond 
all  possibilities  of  dispute.     The  very  day  whereon 
he  arose  he  came  into  the  house  where  they  were, 
while  for  fear  of  the  Jews  the  doors  were  yet  ftst 
shut  about  them,  and  gave  them  sufficient  assur- 
ance that  he  was  really  risen  from  the  dead.*  At 
this  meeting  St.  Thomas  was  absent,  having  pro- 
bably never  recovered  their  company  since  their 
last  dispersion  in  the  garden,  when  every  one's 
fears  prompted  him  to  consult  his  own  safety.    At 
his  return,  they  told  him  that  their  Lord  had  ap- 
peared  to  them  ;  but  he  obstinately  refused  to  give 
credit  to  what  they  said,  or  to  believe  that  it  was 
he,  presuming  it  rather  a  phantasm  or  mere  appa- 
rition, unless  he  might  see  the  very  prints  of  the 
nails,  and  feel  the  wounds  in  his  hands  and  sides. 
A  strange  piece  of  infidelity  !  Was  this  any  more 
than  what  Moses  and  the  prophets  had  long  since 
foretold  ?     Had  not  our  Lord  frequently  told  them 
in  plain  terms,  that  he  must  rise  again  the  third 
day  ■?     Could  he  question  the  possibility  of  it,  who 
had  so  often  seen  him  do  the  greatest  miracles  1 
Was  it  reasonable  to  reject  the  testimony  of  so 
many  eye-witnesses,  ten  to  one  against  himself, 
and  of  whose  fidelity  he  was  assured  1  or  could  he 
think  that  either  themselves  should  be  deceived, 
or  that  they  would  jest  and  trifle  with  him  in  so 
solemn  and  serious  a  matter?     A  stubbornness 
that  might  have  betrayed  him  into  an  eternal  in- 
fidelity.°  But  our  compassionate  Saviour  would  not 
take  the  advantage  of  the  man's  refractory  unbe- 
lief, but  on  that  day  seven-night  came  again  to  them, 
as  they  were  solemnly  met  at  theii-  devotions,  and 
calling  to  Thomas,  bade  him  look  upon  his  hands, 
put  his  fingers  into  the  prints  of  the  nails,  and 
thrust  his  hand  into  the  hole  of  his  side,  and  satisfy 
his  faith  by  a  demonstration  from  sense.     The 
man  was  quickly  convinced  of  his  error  and  obsti- 
nacy, confessing  that  he  now  acknowledged  him 
to  be  his  very  Lord  and  master ;  a  God  omnipo- 
tent, that  was  thus  able  to  rescue  himself  from  the 
powers  of  death.     Our  Lord  rephedno  more,  than 
that  it  was  well  he  believed  his  own  senses,  but 
that  it  was  a  more  noble  and  commendable  act  of 
faith  to  acquiesce  in  a  rational  evidence,  and  to 
entertain  the  doctrines  and  relations  of  the  gospel 
upon  such  testimonies  and  assurances  of  the  truth 
of  things,  as  will  satisfy  a  wise  and  sober  man, 
though  he  did  not  see  them  with  his  own  eyes. 

3.  The  blessed  Jesus  being  gone  to  heaven,  and 
having  eminently  given  gifts  and  miraculous  pow- 
ers to  the  apostles,  St.  Thomas  moved  thereto  by 
some  divine  intimation,  is  said  to  have  despatched 
Thaddajus,  one  of  the  seventy  disciples  to  Abga- 
rus,  toparch  of  Edessa,  (between  whom  and  our 
Saviour  the  letters  commonly  said  to  have  passed, 
are  still  extant  in  Eusebius,)  whom  he  first  cured 
of  an  inveterate  distemper,  and  after  converted 
him  and  his  subjects  to  the  faith.  The  apostolical 
province  assigned  to  St.  Thomas,  (as  Origen  tells 


John  xi.  16. 


t  John  xiv.  5. 


John  XX.  19. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


117 


us,)  was  Parthia ;  after  which  Sophronius  and 
others  inform  us,  that  he  preached  the  gospel  to 
the  Medes,  Persians,  Carmans,  H)Tcani,  Bactrians, 
and  the  neighbor  nations.  In  Persia,  one  of  the 
ancients- (upon  what  ground  I  know  not)  acquaints 
us,  that  he  met  with  the  magi,  or  wise  men,  who 
came  that  long  journey,  from  the  east,  to  bring 
presents  to  our  new-born  Saviour,  whom  he  bap- 
tized and  took  along  with  him  as  his  companions 
and  assistants  in  the  propagation  of  the  gospel. 
Hence  he  preached  in  and  passed  through  Ji^thio- 
pia  ;  that  is,  (that  we  may  a  little  clear  this  by  the 
way,)  the  Asian  Ethiopia,  conterminous  to,  if  not 
the  same  with  Chaldsea ;  whence  Tacitus  does  not 
only  make  the  Jews  descendants  from  the  Ethio- 
pians, as  whose  ancestors  came  from  Ur  of  the 
Chaldeans  ;  but  Hesychius  makes  the  inhabitants 
of  Zagrus,  a  mountain  beyond  Tigris,  "  a  people 
of  the  ^Ethiopians  ;"  this  is  mentioned  by  Benja- 
min the  Jew,  in  his  Itinerary,  the  land  of  Cush,  or 
Ethiopia ;  tlae  inhabitants  whereof  are  styled  by 
Herodotus,  "  the  oriental  Ethiopians,"  by  way  of 
distinction  from  those  who  lived  south  of  Egypt, 
and  were  under  the  same  military  prefecture  with 
the  Arabians,  under  the  command  of  Arsames,  as 
the  other  were  joined  with  the  Indians  ;  and  in 
the  same  place  are  called  oi  ck  rr,;  'Ainas  Ai&toTra, 
the  Asian  Ethiopians.  Having  travelled  through 
these  countries,  he  at  last  came  into  India.  We 
are  told  by  Nicephorus,  that  he  was  at  first  un- 
willing to  venture  himself  into  those  countries, 
fearing  he  should  find  their  manners  as  rude  and 
intractable  as  their  faces  were  black  and  deform- 
ed, till  encouraged  by  a  vision,  that  assured  him 
of  the  divine  presence  to  assist  him  ;  he  travelled 
a  great  way  into  those  eastern  nations,  as  far  as 
the  island  Taprobane,  since  called  Sumatra,  and 
the  country  of  the  Brachmans,  preaching  every 
where  with  all  the  arts  of  gentleness  and  mild 
persuasives ;  not  flying  out  into  tart  invectives, 
and  furious  heats  against  their  idolatrous  practices, 
but  calmly  instructing  them  in  the  principles  of 
Christianity  ;  by  degrees  persuading  them  to  re- 
nounce their  follies,  knowing  that  confirmed  habits 
must  be  cured  by  patience  and  long  forbearing,  by 
slow  and  gentle  methods  :  and  by  these  means  he 
wrought  upon  the  people,  and  brought  them  over 
from  the  grossest  errors  and  superstition  to  the 
hearty  belief  and  entertainment  of  religion. 

4.  In  want  of  better  evidence  from  antiquity,  it 
may  not  be  amiss  to  inquire,  what  account  the 
Portugals,  in  their  first  discoveries  of  these  coun- 
tries, received  of  these  matters,  partly  from  an- 
cient monuments  and  writings,  partly  from  con- 
stant and  uncontrolled  traditions,  which  the  Chris- 
tians, whom  they  found  in  those  parts,  preserved 
amongst  them.  They  tell  us,  that  St.  Thomas 
came  first  to  Socotora,  an  island  in  the  Arabian 
sea  ;  thence  to  Cranganor,  where  having  convert- 
ed many,  he  travelled  further  into  the  east ;  and 
having  successfully  preached  the  gospel,  returned 
back  into  the  kingdom  of  Cormandel ;  where,  at 
Malipur,  the  metropohs  of  the  kingdom,  not  far 
from  the  influx  of  the  Ganges  into  the  gulf  of 
Bengala,  he  began  to  erect  a  place  for  divine  wor-  I 
.ship,  till  prohibited  by  the  priests  and  Sagamo, 
prince  of  that  country.  But,  upon  the  conviction 
of  several  miracles,  the  work  went  on,  and  the  j 
Sagamo  liimself  embraced  the  Christian  faith,  I 


whose  example  was  soon  followed  by  great  num- 
bers of  his  friends  and  subjects.  The  Brachmans, 
who  plainly  perceived  that  this  would  certainly 
spoil  their  trade,  and  in  time  extirpate  the  religion 
of  their  country,  thought  it  high  time  to  put  a  stop 
to  this  growing  novelism;  and  resolved  in  council, 
that  some  way  or  other  the  apostle  must  be  put  to 
death.  There  was  a  tomb  not  far  from  the  city, 
whither  the  apostle  was  wont  to  retire  to  his  soli- 
tudes and  private  devotions ;  hither  the  Brachmans 
and  their  armed  followers  pursue  the  apostle  ;  and 
while  he  was  intent  at  prayer,  they  first  load  him 
with  darts  and  stones,  till  one  of  them  coming 
nearer,  ran  him  through  with  a  lance.  His  body 
was  taken  up  by  his  disciples,  and  buried  in  the 
church  which  he  had  lately  buUt,  and  which  was 
afterwards  improved  into  a  fabric  of  great  stateli- 
ness  and  magnificence.  Gregory  of  Tours  relates 
many  miracles  done  upon  the  annual  solemnities 
of  his  martyrdom ;  and  one  standing  miracle,  an 
account  whereof,  he  tells  us,  he  received  from  one 
Theodorus,  who  had  himself  been  in  that  place, 
viz.  that  in  tlie  temple  where  the  apostle  was  bu- 
ried, there  hung  a  lamp  before  his  tomb,  which 
burnt  perpetually,  without  oil  or  fuel  to  feed  and 
nourish  it ;  the  light  whereof  was  never  diminish- 
ed, nor  by  wind  or  any  other  accident  could  be 
extinguished.  But  whether  travellers  might  not 
herein  be  imposed  upon  by  the  crafty  artifices  of 
tlie  priests,  or  those  who  did  attend  the  church ; 
or  if  true,  whether  it  might  not  be  performed  by 
art,  I  leave  to  others  to  inquire.  Some  will  have 
his  body  to  have  been  afterwards  translated  to 
Edessa,  a  city  in  Mesopotamia  ;  but  the  Christians 
in  the  east  constantly  affirm  it  to  have  remained 
in  the  place  of  his  martyrdom,  where  (if  we  may 
believe  relations)  it  was  after  dug  up,  with  great 
cost  and  care,  at  the  command  of  Don  Emanuel 
Frea,  governor  of  the  coast  of  Cormandel ;  and 
together  with  it  was  found  the  bones  of  the  Sa- 
gamo, whom  he  had  converted  to  the  faith. 

5.  While  Don  Alfonso  Sousa,  one  of  the  vice- 
roys in  India  under  John  the  Third,  king  of  Por- 
tugal, resided  in  these  parts,  certain  brass  tables 
were  brought  to  him,  wliose  ancient  inscriptions 
could  scarce  be  read,  till  at  last,  by  the  help  of  a 
Jew,  an  excellent  antiquary,  they  were  found  to 
contain  nothing  but  a  donation  made  to  St. 
Thomas,  whereby  the  king,  who  then  reigned, 
granted  to  him  a  piece  of  ground  for  the  building 
of  a  church.  They  tell  us  also  of  a  famous  cross, 
found  in  St.  Thomas's  chapel  at  Malipur,  wherein 
was  an  unintelligible  inscription,  which,  by  a 
learned  Bramin,  (whom  they  compelled  to  read 
and  expound  it,)  gave  an  account  to  thi?  efFect ; 
that  Thomas,  a  divine  person,  was  sent  into  those 
countries  by  the  Son  of  God  in  the  time  of  king 
Sagamo,  to  instruct  them  in  tlie  knowledge  of  the 
true  God  ;  that  he  built  a  church,  and  performed 
admirable  miracles ;  but  at  last,  while  upon  his 
knees  at  prayer,  was  by  a  Brachman  thrust 
through  with  a  spear  ;  and  that  that  cross,  stained 
with  his  blood,  had  been  left  as  a  memorial  of  these 
matters  :  an  interpretation  that  was  afterwards 
confirmed  by  another  grave  and  learned  Bramin, 
wlio  expounded  the  inscription  to  the  very  same 
effect.  The  judicious  reader  will  measure  his  be 
lief  of  these  things  by  the  credit  of  tiie  reporters, 
and  tlie  rational  probability  of  the  things  them- 


118 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


selves,  which,  for  my  part,  as  I  cannot  certainly  i 
affirm  to  be  true,  so  I  will  not  utterly  conclude  I 
them  to  be  false. 

6.  From  these  first  plantations  of  Christianity 
in  the  Eastern  Indies  by  our  apostle,  there  is  said  i 
to  have  been  a  continued  series  and  succession  of 
Christians  (hence  called  St.  Thomas-Christians) 
in  those  parts  unto  this  day.  The  Portugals,  at 
their  first  arrival  here,  found  them  in  great  num- 
bers in  several  places,  no  less,  as  some  tells  us, 
than  fifteen  or  sixten  thousand  families.  They 
are  very  poor,  and  their  churches  generally  mean 
and  sordid,  wherein  they  had  no  images  of  saints, 
nor  any  representations  but  that  of  the  cross : 
they  are  governed  in  spirituals  by  a  high-priest, 
(whom  some  make  an  Armenian  patriarch,  of  the 
sect  of  Nestorius,  but  in  truth  is  no  other  than 
the  patriarch  of  Muzal ;  the  remainder,  as  is  pro- 
bable, of  the  ancient  Seleucia,  and  by  some, 
though  erroneously,  styled  Babylon,)  residing 
northward  in  the  mountains  ;  who,  together  with 
twelve  cardinals,  two  patriarchs,  and  several 
bishops,  disposes  all  affairs  referring  to  religion  ; 
and  to  him  all  the  Christians  of  the  east  yield 
subjection.  They  promiscuously  admit  all  to  the 
holy  communion,  which  they  receive  under  both 
kinds,  of  bread  and  wine  ;  though  instead  of  wine, 
which  their  country  affords  not,  making  use  of  the 
juice  of  raisins,  steeped  one  night  in  water,  and 
then  pressed  forth.  Children,  unless  in  case  of 
sickness,  are  not  baptized  till  the  fortieth  day.  At 
the  death  of  friends,  their  kindred  and  relations 
keep  an  eight-days'  feast  in  memory  of  the  de- 
parted. Every  Lord's  day  they  have  their  public 
assemblies  for  prayer  and  preaching,  their  devo- 
tions being  managed  with  great  reverence  and 
solemnity.  Their  Bible,  at  least  the  New  Testa- 
ment, is'  in  the  Syriac  language,  to  the  study 
whereof  the  preachers  earnestly  exhort  the  peo- 
ple. They  observe  the  times  of  Advent  and  Lent, 
the  festivals  of  our  Lord,  and  many  of  the  saints  ; 
those  especially  that  relate  to  St.  Thomas,  the 
Dominica  in  Albis,  or  Sunday  after  Easter,  in 
memory  of  the  famous  confession  which  St. 
Thomas  on  that  day  made  of  Christ,  after  he  had 
been  sensibly  cured  of  his  unbelief ;  another,  on 
the  first  of  July,  celebrated  not  only  by  Christians, 
but  by  Moors  and  Pagans,  the  people  who  come 
to  his  sepulchre  on  pilgrimage,  carrying  away  a 
little  of  the  red  earth  of  the  place  where  he  was 
interred,  which  they  keep  as  an  inestimable  trea- 
sure, and  conceit  it  sovereign  against  diseases. 
They  have  a  kind  of  monasteries  of  the  religious, 
who  hve  in  great  abstinence  and  chastity.  Their 
priests  are  shaven  in  fashion  of  a  cross,  have 
leave  to  marry  once,  but  denied  a  second  time : 
no  marriages  to  be  dissolved,  but  by  death.  These 
rites  and  customs  they  solemnly  pretend  to  have 
derived  from  the  very  time  of  St.  Thomas,  and 
with  the  greatest  care  and  diligence  do  observe 
them  at  this  day.* 


*  In  the  learned  work  of  La  Croze,  "  Historie  du 
Chistianisme  des  Judes,"  much  curious  information 
is  given  on  the  subject  of  the  first  planting  of  Chris- 
tianity in  those  countries  which  are  said  to  have 
been  converted  by  the  apostles.  La  Croze  himself, 
however,  inclines  to  the  opinion  that  the  Thomas 
whose  memory  is  received  as  the  first  teacher  of 


ST.    JAMES    THE    LESS. 

Before  we  can  enter  upon  the  Hfe  of  this  apostle, 
some  difficulty  must  be  cleared  relating  to  his 
person.  Doubted  it  has  been  by  some,  whether 
this  was  the  same  with  that  St.  James  that  was 
bishop  of  Jerusalem,  three  of  this  name  being  pre- 
sented to  us  ;  St.  James  the  Great,  this  St.  James 
the  Less,  (both  apostles,)  and  a  third,  surnamed 
the  Just,  distinct  (say  they)  from  the  former,  and 
bishop  of  Jerusalem.  But  this  (however  pretend- 
ing to  some  little  countenance  from  antiquity)  is 
a  very  great  mistake,  and  built  upon  a  sandy  bot- 
tom :  for  besides  that  the  Scripture  mentions  no 
more  than  two  of  this  name,  and  both  apostles, 
nothing  can  be  plainer,  than  that  that  St  James 
the  apostle,  whom  St.  Paul  calls  our  Lord's 
brother,  and  reckons  with  Peter  and  John,  one  of 
the  pillars  of  the  church,  was  the  same  that  pre- 
sided among  the  apostles,  (no  doubt  by  virtue  of 
his  place,)  it  being  his  episcopal  chair,  and  deter- 
mined in  the  Synod  at  Jerusalem.  Nor  does 
either  Clemens  Alexandrinus,  or  Eusebius  out  of 
him,  mention  any  more  than  two  :  St.  James,  put 
to  death  by  Herod,  and  St.  James  the  Just,  bishop 
of  Jerusalem,  whom  they  expressly  affirm  to  be 
the  same  with  him  whom  St.  Paul  calls  the  brother 
of  our  Lord.  Once,  indeed,  Eusebius  makes  our 
St.  James  one  of  the  seventy,  though  elsewhere 
quoting  a  place  of  Clemens  of  Alexandria,  he 
numbers  him  with  the  chief  of  the  apostles,  and 
expressly  distinguished  him  from  the  seventy  dis- 
ciples. Nay,  St.  Jerome,  though  when  represent- 
ing the  opinion  of  others,  he  styles  him  the 
thtrteenth  apostle,  yet  elsewhere,  when  speaking 
his  own  sense,  sufficiently  proves  that  there  were 
but  two,  James  the  son  of  Zehedee,  and  the  othei 
the  son  of  Alphseus  ;  the  one  sirnamed  the  great- 
er, the  other  the  less.  Besides  that  the  main  sup- 
port of  the  other  opinion  is  built  upon  the  author- 
ity of  Clemen's  Recognitions,  a  book  in  doubtful 
cases  of  no  esteem  and  value. 

2.  This  doubt  being  removed,  we  proceed  to 
the  history  of  his  life.  He  was  the  son  (as  we 
may  probably  conjecture)  of  Joseph,  (afterwards 
husband  of  the  blessed  virgm,  and  his  first  wife, 
whom  St.  Jerome,  from  tradition,  styles  Escha ; 
Hippoletus,  bishop  of  Porto,  Salome  ;  and  further 
adds,  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  Aggi,  brother 
to  Zacharias,  father  to  John  the  Baptist :  hence 
reputed  our  Lord's  brother,  in  the  same  sense 
that  he  was  reputed  the  son  of  Joseph.  Indeed 
we  find  severaJ  spoken  of  in  the  history  of  the 
gospel,  who  were  Christ's  brethren ;  but  in  what 
sense,  was   controverted   of   old.      St.  Jerome, 

Christianity  in  the  region  of  Malabar,  was  not  the 
disciple  of  Christ,  but  a  certain  Manichaean,  who 
obeying  the  zealous  spirit  which  appears  in  many 
instances  to  have  inspired  the  followers  of  that 
great  heresiarch,  conveyed  the  doctrines  of  his  Mas- 
ter, as  so  much  of  Christianity  as  was  conformable 
to  those  doctrines  to  this  distant  region.  But,  after 
all,  there  is  no  improbability  in  the  tradition  respect- 
ing the  journeys  of  the  apostle ;  and  it  is  on  the 
whole  far  more  reasonable  to  ascribe  the  first  plant- 
ing of  the  gospel  in  so  remote  a  part  of  the  worid 
to  an  inspired  and  divinely  appointed,  and  divinely 
protected  minister  of  Christ,  than  to  an  obscure  and 
bewildered  heretic— Ed. 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


119 


Chrysostom,  and  some  others,  will  have  them  so  ; 
called,  because  the  sons  of  Mary,  cousin-german,  j 
or  accordhig  to  the  custom  of  the  Hebrew  Ian-  ] 
guage,  sister  to  the  virgin  Mary.  But  Eusebius, 
lEpiplianius,  and  the  far  greater  part  of  the  an- 
fcients  (from  whom,  especially  in  matters  of  fact, 
'  we  are  not  rashly  to  depart)  make  them  the  chil- 
dren of  Joseph,  by  a  former  wife.  And  this  seems 
most  genuine  and  natural,  the  evangelists  seem- 
ing very  express  and  accurate  in  the  account 
which  they  give  of  them :  "  Is  not  this  the  car- 
penter's son"?  Is  not  his  mother  called  Mary? 
and  his  brethren  James,  and  Joses,  and  Simon, 
and  Jude"?  and  his  sisters  (whose  names,  says  the 
foresaid  Hippolytus,  were  Esther  and  Tamar)  are 
they  not  all  with  us?  Whence  then  hath  this 
man  these  things  ?"  By  which  it  is  plain,  that  the 
Jews  understood  these  persons  not  to  be  Christ's 
kinsmen  only,  but  his  brothers,  the  same  carpen- 
ter's sons,  having  the  same  relation  to  him  that 
Christ  himself  had :  though  indeed  they  iiad 
more,  Christ  being  but  his  reputed,  they  his  na- 
jitural  sons.  Upon  this  account  the  blessed  virgin 
is  sometimes  called  "  the  mother  of  James  and 
Joses  ;"  for  so,  amongst  the  women  that  attended 
at  our  Lord's  crucifixion,  we  find  three  eminently 
taken  notice  of,  "Mary  Magdalen,  Mary,  the 
mother  of  James  and  Joses,  and  the  mother  of 
([Zebedee's  children.*  Where,  by  "Mary,  the 
II  mother  of  James  and  Joses,"  no  other  can  be 
meant  than  the  virgin  Mary  :  it  not  being  reason- 
able to  suppose  that  the  evangelists  should  omit 
the  blessed  virgin,  who  was  certainly  there  ;  and 
therefore  St.  John,  reckoning  up  the  same  persons, 
expressly  styles  her  "  the  mother  of  Jesus."  And 
though  it  is  true  she  was  but  St.  James's  mother- 
in-law,  yet  the  evangelists  might  choose  so  to  style 
her,  because  commonly  so  called  after  Joseph's 
death  ;  and  probably  (as  Gregory  of  Nyssa  thinks) 
Icnown  by  that  name  all  along,  choosing  that  title 
that  the  Son  of  God,  whom  as  a  virgin  she  had 
brought  forth,  might  be  better  concealed,  and  less 
exposed  to  the  malice  of  the  envious  Jews ;  nor  is 
it  any  more  wonder,  that  she  should  be  esteemed 
and  called  the  "mother  of  James,"  than  that 
Joseph  should  be  styled  and  accounted  the  "  father 
of  Jesus."  To  which  add,  that  Josephus,  emi- 
nently skilful  in  matters  of  genealogy  and  descent, 
espressly  says,  that  our  St.  James  was  the 
"brother  of  Jesus  Christ."f  One  thing  there  is 
that  may  seem  to  he  against  it,  that  he  is  called 
"  the  son  of  Alphceus."  But  this  may  probably 
mean  no  more,  than  either  that  Joseph  was  so 
called  by  another  name,  (it  being  frequent,  yea, 
almost  constant  among  the  Jews  for  the  same  per- 
son to  have  two  names;  Quis  unquam  pruhibuerit 
duobus  vel  ii-ibus  nominibus  liominem  umim 
vocari  ?  as  St.  Augustin  speaks  in  a  parallel  case,) 
or  (as  a  learned  man  conjectures)  it  may  relate 
to  his  being  a  disciple  of  some  particular  sect  or 
synagogue  among  the  Jews,  called  Alphaeans  ;  de- 
noting a  family  or  society  of  devout  and  learned 
men  of  somewhat  more  eminency  than  the  rest, 
there  being,  as  he  tells  us,  many  such  at  this  time 
among  the  Jews ;  and  in  this  probably  St.  James 
had   entered  himself,  the  great  reputation  of  his 


piety  and  strictness,  his  wisdom,  pans,  and  learn- 
ing rendering  the  conjecture  above  the  censure 
of  being  trifling  and  contemptible. 

3.  Of  the  place  of  his  birth  the  sacred  story 
makes  no  mention.     The  Jews,  in  their  Talmud, 
(for  doubtless  they  mtend  the  same  person,)  style 
I  him  more  than  once  "  a  man  of  the  town  of  Se- 
I  chania  ;"  though  where  that  was,  I  am  not  able 
j  to  conjecture.     What  was  his  particular  way  and 
course  of  life  before  his  being  called  to  the  disci- 
pieship  and  apostolate,  we  find  no  intimations  of 
in  the  history  of  the  gospel,  nor  is  there  any  dis- 
j  tinct  account  concerning  him  during  our  Saviour's 
life.     After  the  resurrection  he  was  honored  with 
a  particular  appearance  of  our  Lord  to  him,  which 
;  though  silently  passed  over  by  the  evangehsts,  is 
I  recorded  by  St.  Paul,  next  to  the  manifesting  him- 
self to  the  five  hundred  brethren  at  once,  "  he  was 
seen  of  James,"  which  is  by  all  understood  of  our 
''  apostle.     St.  Jerome,  out  of  the  Hebrew  gospel  of 
j  the  Nazarcnes,  (wlierein  many  passages  are  set 
down,  omitted  by  the  evangehcal  historians.)  gives 
us  a  fuller  relation  of  it :  viz.  that  St.  James  had 
solemnly  sworn,  that  from  the  time  that  he  had 
1  drunk  of  the  cup  at  the  institution  of  the  supper, 
j  he  would  eat  bread  no  more  till  he  saw  the  Lord 
risen  ft-om  the  dead.     Our  Lord  tlierefore  being 
returned  from  the  grave,  came  and  appeared  to 
him,  commanded  bread  to  be  set  before  him,  which 
he  took,  blessed,  and  brake,  and  gave  to  St.  James, 
saying,  "  Eat  thy  bread,  my  brother,  for  the  Son 
of  man  is  truly    risen    from   among   them  that 
sleep."     After  Christ's  ascension,  (though  I  will 
not  venture  to  determine  the  precise  time,)  he 
was  cliosen  bishop  of  Jerusalem,  preferred  before 
all  the  rest,  for  his  near  relation  unto  Christ ;  for 
this  we  find  to  have  been  the  reason  why  they 
I  chose  Symeon  to  be  his  immediate  successor  in 
I  that  see,  because  he  was  after  him  our  Lord's 
next  kinsman.     A  consideration  that  made  Peter 
1  and  the  two  sons  of  Zebedee,  though  they  had 
I  been  peculiarly  honored  by  our  Saviour,  not  to 
contend  for  this  high  and  honorable  place,  but 
'  freely  chose  James   the  Just  to  be  bishop  of  it. 
This  dignity  is,  by  some  of  the  ancients,  said  to 
have  been  conferred  on  him  by  Christ  himself, 
constituting  him  bishop  at  the  time  of  his  appear- 
ing to  him.  But  it  is  safest,  witli  others,  to  under- 
stand it  of  its  being  done  by  the  apostles,  or  possi- 
bly by  some  particular  intimation  concerning  it, 
which  our  Lord  might  leave  behind  him. 

4.  To  him  we  find  St.  Paul  making  his  address 
after  his  conversion,  by  whom  he  was  honored 
with  the  riffht-hand  of  fellowship.*  To  him  Peter 
sent  the  news  of  his  miraculous  deliverance  out  of 
prison :  "  Go  show  these  things  unto  James,  and  to 
the  brethren  ;"t  that  is,  to  the  whole  church,  and 
especially  St.  James,  the  bishop  and  pastor  of  it. 
I  But  ho  was  principally  active  in  the  synod  at  Je- 
rusalem, in  the  great  controversy  about  the  Mosaic 
i  rites  :  for  the  case  being  opened  by  Peter,  and 
•  further  debated  by  Paul  and  Barnabas,  at  last 
'  stood  up  St.  James  to  pass  the  final  and  decretory 
sentence,  that  the   Gentile  converts  were  not  to 
I  be  troubled  with  the  bondage  of  the  Jewish  yoke, 
I  only  that  for  a  present  accommodation  some  few 
indifferent  rites  should  be  observed ;  ushering  in 


*  Matt,  xxvii.  56 ;  Mark  xiv.  40. 
t  Antiquit.  Jud.  lib.  xx.  c.  8,  p.  698 ;  Matt.  x.  3. 
9T  (23) 


Gal.  i.  19;  ii.  9. 


t  Acts  xii.  17. 


120 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


the  expedient  with  this  positive  conclusion :  6io 
tyo  Kpivo),  I  thus  judge  or  decide  the  matter ;  "  this 
is  my  sentence"  and  determination.*  A  circum- 
stance the  more  considerable,  because  spoken  at 
the  same  time  when  Peter  was  in  council,  who 
produced  no  such  intimation  of  his  authority. 
Had  the  champions  of  the  church  of  Rome  but 
such  a  passage  for  Peter's  judiciary  authority  and 
power,  it  would  no  doubt  have  made  a  louder 
noise  in  the  world,  than  "  Thou  art  Peter,"  or 
"  Feed  my  sheep." 

5.  He  administered  his  province  with  aU  possi- 
ble care  and  industry,  omitting  no  part  of  a  dili- 
gent and  faithful  guide  of  souls  ;  strengthening 
the  weak,  informing  the  ignorant,  reducing  the 
erroneous,  reproving  the  obstinate,  and  by  the  con- 
stancy of  liis  preaching,  conquering  the  stubborn- 
ness of  that  perverse  and  refractory  generation 
that  he  had  to  deal  with  ;  many  of  the  nobler  and 
better  sort  being  brought  over  to  a  compliance 
with  the  Christian  faith.  So  careful,  so  success- 
ful in  his  charge,  that  he  awakened  the  spite  and 
malice  of  his  enemies  to  conspire  his  ruin  ;  a  sort 
of  men  of  whom  the  apostle  has  given  too  true 
a  character,  "  that  they  please  not  God,  and  are 
contrary  to  all  men."  Vexed  they  were  to  see 
that  St.  Paul,  by  appealing  to  Caesar,  had  escaped 
their  hands  ;  (malice  is  as  greedy  and  insatiable 
as  hell  itself;)  and  they  therefore  now  turn  their 
revenge  upon  St.  James,  which  not  being  able  to 
effect  under  Festus's  government,  they  more  ef- 
fectually attempted  under  the  procuratorship  of 
Albinus's  successor,  Ananus  the  younger,  then 
high-priest,  and  of  the  sect,  of  the  Sadducees,  (of 
all  others,  says  Josephus,f  the  most  merciless  and 
implacable  justicer?,)  resolving  to  despatch  him 
before  the  new  governor  could  arrive.  To  this 
end  a  council  is  hastOy  summoned,  and  the  apos- 
tle with  some  others  arraigned  and  condemned  as 
violators  of  the  law.  But  that  the  thing  might 
be  carried  in  a  more  plausible  and  popular  way, 
they  set  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  (craft's-mas- 
ters  in  the  arts  of  dissimulation)  at  work  to  en- 
snare him,  who  coming  to  him,  began  by  flatter- 
ing insinuations  to  set  upon  him.  They  tell  him, 
that  they  all  had  a  mighty  confidence  in  him,  and 
that  the  whole  nation  as  well  as  they  gave  him 
the  testimony  of  a  most  just  man,  and  one  that 
was  no  respecter  of  persons  ;  that  therefore,  they 
desired  he  would  correct  the  error  and  false  opi- 
nion which  the  people  had  of  Jesus,  whom  they 
looked  upon  as  the  Messiah,  and  would  take  this 
opportunity  of  the  universal  confluence  to  the 
paschal  solemnity,  to  set  them  right  in  their  no- 
tions about  these  things ;  and  would,  to  that  end, 
go  up  with  them  to  the  top  of  the  temple,  where 
he  might  be  seen  and  heard  by  all.  Being  ad- 
vantageously placed  upon  a  pinnacle  or  wing  of 
the  temple,  they  made  this  address  to  him.  "  Tell  | 
us,  O  Justus,  whom  we  have  all  the  reason  in  the 
world  to  believe,  that  seeing  the  people  are  thus 
generally  led  away  with  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  that  j 
was  crucified,  tell  us,  what  is  this  institution  of 
the  crucified  Jesus?"  To  which  the  apostle  an- 
swered with  an  audible  voice  :  "  Why  do  ye  in- 
quire of  Jesus  the  Son  of  man  ?  he  sits  in  heaven 


*  Acts  XV.  13. 

t  Josephus  Antiquit.  Jud.  lib,  xx.  c.  8,  p.  698. 


!  on  the  right  hand  of  the  majesty  on  high,  and 
I  will  come  again  in  the  clouds  of  heaven."  The 
people  below  hearing  it,  glorified  the  blessed 
Jesus,  and  openly  proclaimed  "  Hosanna  to  the 
Son  of  David."  The  Scribes  and  Pharisees  per- 
ceived now  that  they  had  overshot  themselves, 
and  that  instead  of  reclaiming  they  had  confirmed 
i  the  people  in  their  error ;  that  there  was  no  way 
j  left,  but  presently  to  despatch  him,  that  by  his  sad 
j  fate  others  might  be  warned  not  to  believe  him. 
Whereupon  suddenly  crying  out,  that  Justus  him- 
'  self  was  seduced  and  become  an  impostor,  they 
threw  him  down  from  the  place  where  he  stood ; 
though  bruised,  he  was  not  killed  by  the  fall,  but 
recovered  so  much  strength,  as  to  get  upon  his 
knees,  and  pray  to  heaven  for  them.  Malice  is  of 
too  bad  a  nature  either  to  be  pacified  with  kind- 
ness, or  satisfied  with  cruelty  ;  jealousy  is  not 
more  the  rage  of  a  man  than  malice  is  the  rage 
of  the  devil,  the  very  soul  and  spirit  of  the  apos- 
tate nature.  Little  portions  of  revenge  do  but  in- 
flame it,  and  serve  to  flesli  it  up  into  a  fiercer  vio- 
lence. Vexed  that  they  had  not  done  his  work, 
they  fell  fresh  upon  the  poor  remainders  of  his 
life  ;  and  while  lie  was  yet  at  prayer,  and  that  a 
Rechabite,  who  stood  by,  (which,  says  Epipha- 
nius,  was  Symeon,  his  kinsman  and  successor,) 
stepped  in,  and  entreated  them  to  spare  him,  a 
just  and  a  righteous  man,  and  who  was  then  pray- 
ing for  them,  they  began  to  load  him  with  a 
shower  of  stones,  till  one  more  mercifully  cruel 
than  the  rest,  with  a  fuller's  club  beat  out  his 
brains.  Thus  died  this  good  man  in  the  ninety- 
sixth  year  of  his  age,  and  about  twenty-four  years 
after  Christ's  ascension  into  heaven,  (as  Epipha- 
nius  tells  us ;)  being  taken  away,  to  the  great 
grief  and  regret  of  all  good  men  ;  yea,  of  all  sober 
and  just  persons  even  amongst  the  Jews  them- 
selves. He  was  buried  (says  Gregory,  bishop  of 
Tours)  upon  Mount  Olivet,  in  a  tomb  which  he 
had  built  for  himself,  and  wherein  he  had  buried 
Zacharias  and  old  Symeon ;  which  I  am  rather 
inclinable  to  believe  than  what  Hegesippus  re- 
ports, that  lie  was  buried  near  the  tempie  in  the 
place  of  his  martyrdom,  and  that  a  monument  was 
there  erected  for  him,  which  remained  a  long 
time  after  ;  for  the  Jews  were  not  ordinarily  wont 
to  bury  within  the  city,  much  less  so  near  the 
temple  ;  and  least  of  all  would  they  suffer  him, 
whom  as  a  blasphemer  and  impostor  they  had  so 
lately  put  to  death. 

6.  He  was  a  man  of  exemplary  and  extraordi- 
nary piety  and  devotion,  educated  under  the  strict- 
est rules  and  institutions  of  religion,  a  priest  (as 
we  may  probably  guess)  of  the  ancient  order  of 
the  Rechabites  ;  or  rather,  as  Epiphanius  conjec- 
tures, "  according  to  the  most  ancient  order  and 
form  of  priesthood,"  when  the  sacerdotal  office 
was  the  prerogative  of  the  first-born  ;  and  such 
was  St.  James,  the  eldest  son  of  Joseph,  and 
thereby  sanctified  and  set  apart  for  it.  Though, 
whether  this  way  of  priesthood  at  any  time  held 
under  the  Mosaic  dispensation,  we  have  no 
intimations  in  the  holy  story.  But,  however  he 
came  by  it,  upon  some  such  account  it  must  be 
that  he  had  a  privilege  (which  the  ancients  say 
was  peculiar  to  him,  probably  because  more  fre- 
quently made  use  of  by  him  than  by  any  others) 
to  enter  "s  ra  oyta ;  not  into  the  "  sancta  eancto- 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


121 


rum,"  or  "  most  holy  of  all,"  but  the  "  sanctuary," 
or  "  holy  place,"  whither  the  priests  of  the  Aaron- 
ical  order  might  come.  Prayer  was  his  constant 
business  and  deliglit ;  he  seemed  to  live  upon  it, 
and  to  trade  in  nothing  but  the  frequent  returns  of 
converse  with  heaven  ;  and  was  therefore  wont 
to  retire  alone  into  the  temple  to  pray,  which  he 
always  performed  kneeling,  and  with  tiie  greatest 
reverence,  till  by  his  daily  devotions  his  knees 
were  become  as  hard  and  brawny  as  a  camel's. 
And  he  who  has  told  us,  that  "  the  effectual  fer- 
vent prayer  of  a  righteous  man  availeth  much," 
himself  found  it  true  by  his  own  experience,  hea- 
ven lending  a  more  immediate  ear  to  his  petitions ; 
so  that  when  in  a  time  of  great  drought  he  pray- 
ed for  rain,  the  heavens  presently  melted  into 
fruitful  showers.  Nor  was  his  charity  towards 
men  less  than  his  piety  towards  God ;  he  did  good 
to  all,  watched  over  men's  souls,  and  studied  to 
advance  their  eternal  interests ;  his  daily  errand 
into  the  temple  was  to  pray  for  the  happiness  of 
the  people,  and  that  God  would  not  severely 
i|  reckon  with  them  :  he  could  forgive  his  fiercest 
ii  enemies,  and  " overcome  evil  with  good:"  when 
thrown  from  the  top  of  the  temple,  he  made  use 
of  all  the  breath  he  had  left  in  him,  only  to  send 
lip  this  petition  to  heaven  for  the  pardon  of  his 
murderers  :  "  I  beseech  thee,  O  Lord  God,  hea- 
venly Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not 
what  they  do." 

7.  He  was  of  a  most  meek  humble  temper,  ho- 
noring what  was  excellent  in  others,  concealing 
what  was  valuable  in  himself;  theeminency  of  his 
relation,  and  the  dignity  of  his  place,  did  not  exalt 
liini  in  lofty  thoughts  above  the  measures  of  his 
'!  brethren,  industriously  hiding  whatever  miglit  set 
1  him  up  above  the  rest.  Though  he  was  our  Loi'd's 
ilbrotlier,  yet  in  the  inscription  of  the  epistle  he 
jstyles  himself  but  the  "servant  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
(not  so  much  as  giving  himself  the  title  of  anapos- 
itle.  His  temperance  was  admirable ;  he  wholly 
^  abstained  from  flesh,  and  drank  neither  wine  nor 
[strong  drink,  nor  ever  used  the  bath.  His  holy 
ijand  mortified  mind  was  content  with  the  meanest 
I  accommodations  ;  he  went  bare- foot,  and  never 
Iwore  other  than  linen  garments.  Indeed,  he  lived 
|| after  the  strictest  rules  of  the  Nazarite  order ; 
lland  as  the  mitre,  or  sacerdotal  plate,  which  he 

Iwore  upon  his  head,  evinced  his  priestiiood,  which 
was  rather  after  Melchisedeck's,  or  the  priesthood 
of  the  first-born,  than  the  Aaronical  order ;  so  his 
never  shaving  his  head,  nor  using  unguents,  his 
habit  and  diet,  and  the  great  severity  of  his  life, 
showed  him  to  appertain  to  the  Nazarite  institu- 
tion, to  which  he  was  holy,  (says  Hegesippus,)  or 
consecrated  from  his  mother's  womb.  A  man  of 
tliat  divine  temper  that  he  was  the  love  and  won- 
der of  his  age ,  and  for  the  reputation  of  his  holy 
and  religious  life  was  universally  styled  James  the 
Just.  Indeed,  the  safety  and  liappiness  of  the 
nation  was  reckoned  to  depend  upon  his  prayers 
and  interest  in  heaven,  which  gained  him  the  ho- 
norable title  of  Oblias  or  Ozliam,  the  "  defence" 
and  "fortress  of  the  people;"  as  it;  when  he  was 
gone,  their  garrisons  would  be  dismantled,  and 
their  strength  laid  level  with  the  ground.  And 
so  we  find  it  was,  when  some  few  years  after  his 
death  the  Roman  army  broke  in  upon  them,  and 
turned  all  into  blood  and  ruin.     And  what  wonder 


if  the  judgments  of  God  like  a  flood  come  rolling 
in  upon  a  nation,  when  the  sluices  are  plucked  up, 
and  the  Moses  taken  away  that  before  stood  in  the 
gap  to  keep  them  out  1  "  Elisha  died,  and  a  band 
of  the  Moabites  invaded  the  land."*  In  siiort, 
he  was  the  delight  of  all  good  men,  in  so  much 
favor  and  estimation  with  the  people,  that  they 
used  to  flock  after  him,  and  strive  who  should 
touch,  though  it  were  but  the  hem  of  his  garment; 
his  very  episcopal  chair,  wherein  he  used  to  sit, 
being  (as  Eusebius  informs  us)  carefully  preserv- 
ed, and  having  a  kind  of  veneration  paid  to  it, 
even  unto  his  time  :  loved  and  honored,  not  by  his 
friends  only,  but  by  his  enemies ;  the  Jewain  their 
Talmud,  mentioning  James  as  a  worker  of  mira- 
cles in  the  name  of  "Jesus  his  master  ;"  yea,  the 
wisest  of  them  looked  upon  his  martyrdom  as  the 
inlet  to  all  those  miseries  and  calamities  that  soon 
after  flowed  in  upon  them.  Sure  I  am,  that  Jose- 
phus  particularly  reckons  the  death  of  tiiis  St. 
James  as  that  which  more  immediately  alarmed 
the  divine  vengeance,  and  hastened  the  universal 
ruin  and  destruction  of  that  nation. 

8.  He  wrote  only  one  epistle,  probably  not  long 
before  his  martyrdom,  as  appears  by  some  pas- 
sages in  it  relating  to  the  near  approaching  ruin 
of  the  Jewish  nation.  He  directed  it  to  the  Jewish 
converts,  dispersed  up  and  down  those  eastern 
countries,  to  comfort  them  under  sufl^erings,  and 
confirm  them  against  error.  He  saw  a  great  de- 
generacy and  declension  of  manners  coming  on, 
and  that  the  purity  of  the  Christian  faith  began 
to  be  undermined  by  the  loose  doctrines  and  prac- 
tices of  the  Gnostics,  who  under  a  pretence  of  zeal 
for  the  legal  rites,  generally  mixed  themselves 
with  the  Jews  ;  he  beheld  libertinism  marciiing 
on  apace,  and  the  way  to  heaven  made  soft  and 
easy,  men  declaiming  against  good  works,  as  use- 
less and  unnecessary  ;  and  asserting  a  naked  be- 
lief of  the  Christian  doctrine  to  be  sufficient  to 
salvation.  Against  these  the  apostle  opposes 
himself,  presses  purity,  patience,  and  charity,  and 
all  the  virtues  of  a  good  life  ;  and  by  undeniable 
arguments  envinces  that  that  faith  only  that  car- 
ries along  with  it  obedience  and  a  holy  life,  can 
justify  us  before  God,  and  entitle  us  to  e!ernal  hfe. 
Besides  this  epistle,  there  is  a  kind  of  preparatory 
gospel  ascribed  to  him,  published  under  the  name 
of  nrilTEYArrE'AlON,  (still  extant  at  this  day,) 
containing  the  descent,  birth,  and  first  originals  of 
Christ,  and  the  virgin  Mary  ;  at  the  end  whereof 
the  author  pretends  to  have  written  it  at  a  time 
when  Herod  having  raised  a  great  tumult  in  Jeru- 
salem,  he  was  forced  to  retire  into  the  wilderness. 
But,  thougli  in  many  things  consistent  enough 
with  the  history  of  the  gospel,  yet  has  it  ever 
been  rejected  as  spurious  and  apocryphal,  forged  in 
that  licentious  age,  when  men  took  the  boldness  to 
stamp  any  writing  with  the  name  of  an  apostle. f 

*  9  Kings  xiii.  20. 

t  The  character  given  of  St.  James  by  Josephus 
and  others,  affords  a  very  valuable,  because  unde- 
signed testimony  to  the  truth  of  the  gospel.  He 
was  not  only  devout,  but  singularly  pure  and  upright 
in  his  conversation  ;  and  if  the  perception  and  love 
of  truth  have  any  thing  to  do  with  the  moral  cha- 
racter, he  was  thus  especially  qualified  for  deter- 
mining what  degree  of  credit  o'.ight  to  be  given  to 
the  claims  of  Christ. 


122 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES- 


ST.    SIMON  THE    ZEALOT. 


were  continually  prompting  the  people  to  throw 
off  the  Roman  yoke,  and  vindicate  themselves  into 
I  their  native  liberty  ;  and  when  they  had  turned  all 
St.  Simon  the  apostle  was,  as  some  think,  one  of  filings  into  hurry  and  confusion,  themselves  in 
the  four  brothers  of  our  Saviour,  sons  of  Joseph  ^j^g  j^jg^n  while  fished  in  these  troubled  waters. 
by  his  former  marriage,*  though  no  other  evidence  Josephus  gives  a  large  account  of  them,  and  every 
appear  for  it,  but  that  there  was  a  Simon,  one  of!  ^^gre  bewails  them  as  the  great  plague  of  the 
the  number ;  too  infirm  a  foundation  to  build  any  ]  nation.  He  tells  us  of  them,  that  they  scrupled 
thing  more  on  than  a  mere  conjecture.  In  the  j,qj  ^^  j-g^  ^ny,  to  kill  many  of  the  prime  of  the 
catalogue  of  the  apostles  he  is  styled  Simon  tlie   mobility,  under  pretence  of  holding  correspondence 


Cana:mite  ;  whence  some,  led  by  no  other  reason 
that  I  know  of  tiian  the  bare  sound  of  the  name, 
have  concluded  him  born  at  Cana  in  Galilee  ;  as 
for  the  same  reason  others  have  made  him  the 
bridegroom,  at  whose  marriage  our  Lord  was 
there  present,  when  he  honored  the  solemnity 
with  liis  first  miracle,  turning  water  into  wine. — 
But  this  word  has  no  relation  to  his  country,  or 
the  place  from  whence  he  borrowed  his  original, 
as  plainly  descending  from  a  Hebrew  word  which 
signifies  zeal,  and  denotes  a  hot  and  sprightly 
temper.f  Therefore  what  some  of  the  evangelists 
call  Canaanite,  others  rendering  the  Hebrew  by 
the  Greek  word,  style  Simon  Zelotes,  or  the 
Zealot :  so  called,  not  (as  Nicephorus  thinks) 
from  hid  burning  zeal,  and  ardent  affection  to  his 
master,  and  his  eager  desire  to  advance  his  reli- 
gion in  the  world,  but  from  his  warm  active  tem- 
per, and  zealous  forwardness  in  some  particular 
way  and  confession  of  religion  before  his  commg 
to  our  Saviour. 

2.  For  the  better  understanding  of  this  we  are 
to  know,  that  as  there  were  several  sects  and  par- 
ties among  the  Jews,  so  was  there  one,  either  a 
distinct  sect,  or  at  least  a  branch  of  the  Pharisees, 
called  the  sect  of  the  Zealots  :  they  were  mighty 
assertors  of  the  honor  of  the  law,  and  the  strict- 
ness and  purity  of  religion,  assuming  a  liberty  to 
themselves  to  question  notorious  offenders,  with, 
out  staying  for  the  ordinary  formalities  of  law  ; 
nay,  when  they  thought  good,  and  when  the  case 
required,  executing  capital  vengeance  upon  them. 
Thus  when  a  blasphemer  cursed  God  by  the  name 
of  any  idol,  (says  Maimonides)  the  Zealots  that 
next  met  him  might  immediately  kill  him,  without 
ever  bringing  him  before  the  Sanhedrim.  They 
looked  upon  themselves  as  the  successors  of 
Phineas,  who  in  a  mighty  passion  for  the  honor 
of  God,  did  innnediate  execution  upon  Zimri  and 
Cozbi :  an  act  which  was  "  counted  to  him  for 
rigiiteousness  unto  all  posterities  for  evermore  ;"| 
and  God  was  so  well  pleased  with  it,  that  he  made 
"  with  him  and  his  seed  after  him  the  covenant 
of  an  everlasting  priesthood,  because  he  was  zeal- 
ous for  his  God,  and  made  an  atonement  for 
Israel. "II  In  imitation  whereof  these  men  took 
upon  tliem  to  execute  judgment  in  extraordinary 
cases,  and  that  not  only  by  the  connivance,  but 
with  the  leave  both  of  the  rulers  and  the  people 


with  the  Romans,  and  betraying  the  liberty  of  their 
country  ;  openly  glorying,  that  herein  they  were 
the  benefactors  and  saviors  of  the  people.  They 
abrogated  the  succession  of  ancient  families, 
thrusting  obscure  and  ignoble  persons  into  the 
high-priest's  office,  that  so  they  might  oblige  the 
most  infamous  villains  to  their  party ;  and  as  if 
not  content  to  injure  men,  they  affronted  heaven, 
and  proclaimed  defiance  to  the  Divinity  itself, 
breaking  into  and  profaning  the  most  holy  place. 
Styling  themselves  Zealots,  (says  he)  "  as  if  their 
undertakings  were  good  and  honorable,  while  they 
were  greedy  and  emulous  of  the  greatest  wicked- 
ness, and  outdid  the  worst  of  men."  Many  at- 
tempts were  made,  especially  by  Annas  the  high- 
priest,  to  reduce  them  to  order  and  sobriety.  But 
neither  force  of  arms,  nor  fair  and  gentle  methods 
could  do  any  good  upon  them  ;  they  held  out,  and 
went  on  in  their  violent  proceedings,  and  joining 
with  the  Idumeans,  committed  all  manner  of  out- 
rage, slaying  the  high-priests  themselves.  Nay, 
when  Jerusalem  was  strictly  besieged  by  the  Ro- 
man army,  they  ceased  not  to  create  tumults  and 
factions  within,  and  were  indeed  the  main  cause 
of  the  Jews  ill  success  in  that  fatal  war.  It  is 
probable,  that  all  that  went  under  the  notion  of 
this  sect  were  not  of  this  wretched  and  ungo- 
vernable temper,  but  that  some  of  them  were  of  a 
better  make,  of  a  more  sober  and  peaceable  dispo- 
sition. And  as  it  is  not  to  be  doubted  but  that  our 
Simon  was  of  this  sect  in  general,  so  there  is  rea- 
son to  believe  he  was  of  the  better  sort.  How- 
ever, this  makes  no  more  reflection  upon  his  being 
called  to  the  apostleship,  than  it  did  for  St.  Mat- 
thew, who  was  before  a  publican,  or  St.  Paul's 
being  a  Pharisee,  and  so  zealously  persecuting 
the  church  of  God. 

3.  Being  invested  in  the  apostolical  office,  no 
further  mention  appears  of  him  in  the  history  of 
the  gospel.  Continuing  with  the  apostles  till  their 
dispersion  up  and  down  the  world,  he  then  ap- 
plied himself  to  the  execution  of  his  charge.  He 
is  said  to  have  directed  his  journey  towards  Egypt, 
thence  to  Gyrene,  and  Africk,  (this  indeed  Baro- 
nius  is  not  willing  to  believe,  being  desirous  that 
St.  Peter  should  have  the  honor  to  be  the  first 
that  planted  Christianity  in  Africk)  and  throughout 
Mauritania  and  all  Libya,  preaching  the  gospel  to 
those  remote  and  barbarous  countries.     Nor  could 


till  in  after  times,  under  a  pretence  of  this,  their  j  j},g  coldness  of  the  climate  benumb  his  zeal 


zeal  degenerated  into  all  manner  of  licentiousness 
and  wild  extravagance,  and  they  not  only  became 
the  posts  of  the  commonwealth  at  home,  but 
opened  the  door  for  the  Romans  to  break  in  upon 
them,  to  their  final  and  irrecoverable  ruin  ;  they 


♦  Matt.  X.  4;  Mark  iii.  18. 
t  Luke  vi.  15;  Acts  i.  13. 
II  Num.  XXV.  11-13. 


tPs;al.cvi.  31. 


hinder  him  from  shipping  himself  and  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine  over  to  the  western  islands,  yea,  even 
to  Britain  itself  Here  he  preached  and  wrought 
many  miracles  ;  and  after  infinite  troubles  and 
difficulties  which  he  underwent,  (if  we  may  be- 
lieve our  authors,  whom,  though  Baronius  in  this 
case  makes  no  great  account  of,  yet  never  sm-u- 
I  pies  freely  to  use  their  verdict  and  suffrage  when 
i  they  give  in  evidence  to  his  purpose,)  suffered 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


martyrdom  for  the  faith  of  Christ,  as  is  not  only 
affirmed  by  Nicephorus  and  Dorotheus,  but  ex- 
pressly owned  in  the  Greek  Menologies  ;  where 
we  are  told,  that  he  went  at  last  into  Britain,  and 
havmg  enlightened  the  minds  of  many  with  the 
doctrine  of  the  gospel,  was  crucified  by  the  infidels, 
and  buried  there. 

4.  I  know  indeed,  that  there  want  not  those  who 
tell  us,  that  after  his  preaching  the  gospel  in  Egypt, 
he  went  into  Mesopotamia,  where  he  met  with  St. 
Jude  the  apostle,  and  together  with  him  took  his 
journey  into  Persia,  where  having  gained  a  con- 
siderable harvest  to  the  Christian  faith,  they  were 
both  crowned  with  martyrdom  ;  which  Baronius 
himself  confesses  to  be  founded  on  no  better  au- 
thority than  the  "  Passions  of  the  Apostles,"  a 
book  which  at  every  turn  he  rejects  as  trifling 
and  impertinent,  as  false  and  fabulous.  But  wide 
is  the  mistake  of  those  who  confound  our  apostle 
with  Symeon  the  son  of  Cleophas,  successor  to  St. 
James  the  Just  in  the  see  of  Jerusalem,  who  was 
crucified  in  the  hundred  and  twentieth  year  of  his 
age,  in  the  persecution  under  Trajan :  the  different 
character  of  their  persons,  and  the  account  both 
of  their  acts  and  martyrdoms  being  sufficiently 
distinguished  in  the  writings  of  the  church. 


ST.   JUDE. 

There  are  three  several  names  by  which  this 
apostle  is  described  in  the  history  of  the  gospel : 
Jude,  Thaddeus,  and  Lebbaeus,  it  being  u'sual  iri 
the  holy  volumes  for  the  same  person  to  have  more 
proper  names  than  one.  For  the  first,  it  was  a 
name  common  amongst  the  Jews,  recommended  to 
them  as  being  the  name  of  one  of  the  great  pa- 
triarchs  of  their  nation.  This  name  he  seems  to 
have  changed  afterwards  for  Thaddeus,  a  word 
springing  from  the  same  root,  and  of  the  very 
same  import  and  signification,  which  might  arise 
from  a  double  cause;  partly  from  the  supersti- 
tious veneration  which  the  Jews  had  for  the  name 
Jehova,  (the  nomen  rtTpaypan^arov,  or  name  con- 
sisting of  four  letters,)  which  they  held  unlawful  to 
be  pronounced  by  any  but  the  high-priest ;  and  not 
by  him  even,  but  at  the  most  solemn  times.  Hence 
it  was,  that  when  any  man  had  a  name,  wherein 
there  was  the  major  part  of  the  letters  of  this  in- 
effable title,  (and  such  was  Jehuda,  or  Juda,)  they 
v/ould  not  rashly  pronounce  it  in  common  usage, 
but  chose  rather  to  mould  it  into  another  like'^it, 
and  of  the  same  importance,  or  that  which  had  a 
near  affinity  and  resemblance  with  it :  partly  from 
a  particular  dislike  of  the  name  of  Judas  among  the 
apostles,  the  bloody  and  treasonable  practices  of 
Judas  Iscariot  having  rendered  that  name  very 
odious  and  detestable  to  them.  To  prevent  there- 
fore all  possibility  of  mistake,  and  that  they  might 
not  confound  the  righteous  with  the  wicked,  St. 
Matthew  and  Mark  never  call  him  by  this,  but  by 
some  other  name,  as  no  question  for  the  same  rea"! 
son  he  both  styles  himself,  and  is  frequently  called 
by  others,  "Judas  tlie  brother  of  James;"*  and 
that  this  vv'as  one  great  design  of  it,  the  evangelist 

*  John  xiv.  22. 


123 


plaiiJy  mtimates,  when  speaking  of  him,  he  says, 
"  J  udas,  not  Iscariot."  For  his  name  Lebbaeus,  it 
seems  to  have  been  derived  either  from  the  He- 
brew  word,  signifying  a  heart,  whence  St  Jerome 
renders  it  Corculum,  probably  to  denote  his  wis- 
dom and  prudence  ;  or  else  from  a  Hon,  and  there- 
in to  have  respect  to  old  Jacob's  prophecy  concern- 
ing Judah:  "That  he  should  be  as  a  lion,  an  old 
hon,  and  as  a  hon's  whelp;"  which  probably  mi-rht 
have  a  main  stroke  in  fastening  this  name  upon 
St.  Jude.  From  this  patriarchal  prophecy,  we  are 
told,  that  one  of  the  schools  or  synagogues  of  learn- 
ed men  among  the  Jews  (who,  to  avSid  confusion, 
were  wont  to  distinguish  themselves  by  different 
appellations)  took  occasion  to  denominate  them- 
selves Labii,  as  accounting  themselves  tlie  scholars 
and  descendants  of  tliis  lion-like  son  of  Jacob ;  and 
that  St.  Jude  was  of  this  society,  and  because  of 
his  eminency  among  them,  retained  the  title  of 
Labius,  or  as  it  was  corruptly  pronounced,  Leb- 
bffius.  I  confess  I  should  have  thought  tlie  con- 
jecture of  a  learned  man  very  probable,  that  he 
might  have  derived  this  name  from  the  place  of 
his  nativity,  as  being  born  at  Lebba,  a  town, 
which  he  tells  us,  Pliny  speaks  of,  in  the  province 
of  Galilee,  not  far  from  Carmel ;  but  that  it  is  not 
Lebba,  but  Jebba  in  all  copies  of  Pliny  that  I  have 
seen.  But  let  the  reader  please  himself  in  which 
conjecture  he  likes  best.  , 

2.  For  his  descent  and  parentage,  he  was  of 
our  Lord's  kindred,  Nicephorus  truly  making  him 
the  son  of  Joseph,  an«?  brother  to  James,  bishop 
of  Jerusalem  ;  that  there  was  a  Jude  one  of  the 
number  is  very  evident :  "  Are  not  his  brethren 
James,  and  Joses,  and  Simon,  and  Judas?"  which 
makes  me  the  more  to  wonder  at  Scaliger,  who 
so  confidently  denies  that  any  of  the  evangelists 
ever  mention  a  "  Jude  the  brother  of  our  Lord." 
St.  Jerome  seems  often  to  confound  him  with 
Simon  the  Zealot,  whose  title  he  ascribes  to  him  ; 
though  second  thoughts  set  him  right,  as  indeed 
common  advertency  could  do  no  less,  so  plain  is 
the  account  which  the  evangelists  give  of  this 
matter.  When  called  to  the  discipleship  we  find 
not,  as  not  meeting  with  him  till  we  find  him  enu- 
merated in  the  catalogue  of  apostles  ;  nor  is  any 
thing  particularly  recorded  of  him  afterwards, 
more  than  one  question  that  he  propounded  to  our 
Saviour,  who  having  told  them  what  great  things 
he  and  his  Father  would  do,  and  what  particular 
manifestations  after  his  resurrection  lie  would 
make  of  himself  to  his  sincere  disciples  and  fol- 
lowers, St.  Jude,  (whose  thoughts  as  well  as  the 
rest  were  taken  up  with  the  expectations  of  a 
temporal  kingdom  of  the  Messiah,)  not  knowing 
how  this  could  consist  with  the  public  solemnity 
of  tliat  glorious  state  they  looked  for,  asked  him, 
what  was  the  reason  that  lie  would  manifest  him- 
self to  them,  and  not  to  the  world  ?*  Our  Lord 
replied,  that  the  world  was  not  capable  of  these 
divine  manifestations,  as  being  a  stranger  and  an 
enemy  to  what  should  fit  them  for  fellowship  with 
heaven  ;  that  they  were  only  good  men,  persons 
of  a  divine  temper  of  mind,  and  religious  observers 
of  his  laws  and  will,  whom  God  would  honor  with 
these  familiar  converses,  and  admit  to  such  parti- 
cular acts  of  grace  and  favor. 

♦  John  xiv.  20. 


124 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


3   Eusebius  relates,  that  soon  after  our  Lord's  i  seigniories  and  dominions  of  it,  but  heavenly  and 
ascension,  St.  Thomas  despatched  Thaddeus,  the  I  angelical,  and  would  fi"^jJy_^f_^f^P^_^^^  '"  ^'^^  ^"^ 


apostle,  to  Abgarus,  governor  of  Edessa,  where  he 
healed  diseases,  wrought  miracles,  expounded  the 
doctrines  of  Christianity,  and  converted  Abgarus 
and  his  people  to  the  faith :  for  all  which  pains, 
when  the  toparch  offered  liim  vast  gifts  and  pre- 
sents, he  refused  them  with  a  noble  scorn,  telling 
him,  they  had  httle  reason  to  receive  from  others, 
what  they  had  freely  relinquished  and  left  them- 
selves. A  large  account  of  this  whole  affair  is  ex- 
tant in  Eusebius,  translated  by  him  out  of  Syriac, 
from  the  records  of  the  city  of  Edessa.  This 
Thaddeus  St.  Jerome  expressly  makes  to  be  our 
St.  Jude,  though  his  bare  authority  is  not  in  this 
case  sufficient  evidence ;  especially  since  Eusebius 
makes  him  no  more  than  one  of  the  seventy  dis- 
ciples, which  he  would  scarce  have  done,  had  he 
been  one  of  the  twelve.  He  calls  him,  indeed,  an 
apostle,  but  that  may  imply  no  more  than  accord- 
ing to  the  large  acceptation  of  the  word,  that  he 
was  a  disciple,  a  companion,  and  an  assistant  to 
them,  as  we  know  the  seventy  eminently  were. 
Nor  is  any  thing  more  common  in  ancient  eccle- 
siastic writers,  than  for  tiie  first  planters  and  pro- 
pagators of  Christian  religion  in  any  country  to  be 
honored  with  the  name  and  title  of  apostles.  But, 
however  this  be,  at  his  first  setting  out  to  preach 
the  gospel,  he  wer'.t  up  and  down  Judsea  and  Ga- 
lilee, then  through  Samaria  into  Idumea,  and  to 
the  cities  of  Arabia,  and  the  neighbor  countries  ; 
and  after  to  Syria  and  Mesopotamia.  Nicepho- 
rus  adds,  that  he  came  at  last  to  Edessa,  where 
Abgarus  was  governor ;  and  where  the  other 
ThaddfEUS,  one  of  the  seventy,  had  been  before 
him.  Here  he  perfected  what  the  other  had  begun ; 
and  having,  by  his  sermons  and  miracles,  establish- 
ed the  religion  of  our  Saviour,  died  a  peaceable 
and  a  quiet  death  ;  though  Dorotheus  makes  him 
slain  at  Berytus,  and  honorably  buried  there. — 
By  the  almost  general  consent  of  the  writers  of 
the  Latin  church,  he  is  said  to  have  travelled  into 
Persia,  where,  after  great  success  in  his  apostoli- 
cal ministry  for  many  years,  he  was  at  last,  for  his 
free  and  open  reproval  of  tlie  superstitious  rites 
and  usages  of  the  magi,  cruelly  put  to  death. 

4.  That  he  was  one  of  the  married  apostles 
sufficiently  appears  from  liis  grandsons,  mentioned 
by  Eusebius,  of  whom  Hegesippus  gives  this  ac- 
count. Domitian,  the  emperor,  whose  enormous 
wickedness  had  awakened  in  him  the  quickest 
jealousies,  and  made  him  suspect  every  one  that 
might  look  like  a  co-rival  in  the  empire,  had  heard 
that  there  were  some  of  the  line  of  David  and 
Christ's  kindred  that  did  yet  remain.  Two  grand- 
children of  St.  Jude,  the  brother  of  our  Lord,  were 
brought  before  him  ;  and  having  confessed  that 
they  were  of  the  race  and  posterity  of  David,  ho 
asked  what  possessions  and  estate  they  had  :  they 
told  him,  that  they  had  but  a  very  few  acres  of 
land,  out  of  the  improvement  wliereof  they  botli 
paid  him  tribute,  and  maintained  themselves  witli 
their  own  hard  labor,  as  by  the  hardness  and  cal- 
lousness of  their  hands  (which  they  then  showed 
him)  did  appear.  He  then  inquired  of  them  con- 
cerning Christ,  and  the  state  of  his  kingdom,  what 
kind  of  empire  it  was,  and  when  and  where  it 
would  commence.      To  which  tliey  replied,  that 


of  1;he  world  ;  when  coming  with  great  glory,  he 
would  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead,  and  award 
all  men  recompences  according  to  their  works. 
The  issue  was,  that  looking  upon  the  meanness 
and  simphcity  of  the  men,  as  below  his  jealousies 
and  fears,  he  dismissed  them  without  any  severity 
used  against  them  ;  who  being  now  beheld  not 
only  as  kinsmen,  but  as  martyrs  of  our  Lord,  were 
honored  by  all,  preferred  to  places  of  authority 
and  government  in  the  church,  and  lived  till  the 
times  of  Trajan. 

5.  St  Jude  left  only  one  epistle  of  cathohc  and 
universal  concernment,  inscribed  at  large  to  all 
Christians.  It  was  some  time  before  it  met  with 
general  reception  in  the  church,  or  was  taken  no- 
lice  of.  The  author,  indeed,  styles  not  himself  an 
apostle,  but  no  more  does  St.  James,  St.  John,  nor 
sometimes  St.  Paul  himself.  And  why  should  he 
fare  the  worse  for  his  humility,  only  for  calling 
himself  the  "  servant  of  Christ,"  when  he  might 
have  added  not  only  "  apostle"  but  "  the  brother 
of  our  Lord?"  The  best  is,  he  has  added  what 
was  equivalent,  »  Jude,  the  brother  of  James,"  a 
cliaracter  that  can  belong  to  none  but  our  apostle  ; 
besides,  tliat  the  title  of  the  epistle,  which  is  of 
great  antiquity,  runs  thus,  "  The  general  Epistle 
of  Jude  the  Apostle."  One  great  argument,  as 
St.  Jerome  informs  us,  against  the  authority  of 
this  epistle  of  old,  was  its  quoting  a  passage  ,out 
of  an  apocryphal  book  of  Enoch.  This  book,  call- 
ed the  "  Apocalypse  of  Enoch,"  was  very  early 
extant  in  the  church,  frequently  mentioned,  and 
passages  were  cited  out  of  it  by  Irenseus,  Tertul- 
han,  Clemens  Alexandrinus,  Origen,  and  others, 
some  of  whom  accounted  it  little  less  than  canon- 
ical. But  what,  if  our  apostle  had  it  not  out  of 
this  apocryphal  book,  but  from  some  prophecy  cur- 
rent from  age  to  age,  handed  to  him  by  common 
tradition,  or  immediately  revealed  to  him  by  the 
Spirit  of  God  1  But  suppose  it  taken  out  of  that 
book  going  under  Enoch's  name  ;  this  makes  no- 
thing against  the  authority  of  the  epistle  ;  every 
thing,  I  hope,  is  not  presently  false,  that  is  con- 
tained in  an  aprocryphal  and  uncanonical  writing ; 
nor  does  the  taking  a  single  testimony  out  of  it 
any  more  infer  the  apostle's  approbation  of  all  the 
rest,  than  St.  Paul's  quoting  a  good  sentence  or 
two  out  of  Menander,  Aratus,  and  Epimenides, 
imply  that  he  approved  all  the  rest  of  the  writings 
of  those  heathen  poets.  And  indeed  nothing  could 
be  more  fit  and  proper  than  this  way,  if  we  con- 
sider that  the  apostle  in  this  epistle  chiefly  argues 
against  the  Gnostics,  who  mainly  traded  in  such 
traditionary  and  apocryphal  writings,  and  proba- 
bly in  this  very  book  of  Enoch.  The  same  account 
may  be  given  of  that  other  passage  in  this  epistle, 
concerning  the  contention  between  Michael,  the 
archangel,  and  the  devil,  about  the  burial  of  Mo- 
ses's body,  no  where  extant  in  the  holy  records, 
supposed  to  have  been  taken  out  of  a  Jewish  writ- 
ing, called  the  "Dismission  of  Moses,"  mentioned 
by  some  of  the  Greek  fatiiers,  under  the  title  of 
"  Ascension  of  Moses,"  in  wliich  this  passage  was 
upon  record.  Nor  is  it  any  more  a  wonder,  that 
St.  Jude  should  do  this,  than  that  St.  Paul  should 
put  down  Jannes  and  Jambres  for  the  two  niagi- 


his  kingdom  was  not  of  this  world,  nor  of  the '  cians  of  Pliaraoh  that  opposed  Moses,  which  he 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


125 


must  either  derive  from  tradition,  or  fetch  out  of 
some  uncanonical  author  of  those  times,  there  be- 
ing no  mention  of  their  names  in  Moses's  relation 
of  that  matter.  But  be  these  passages  whence 
they  will,  it  is  enough  for  us,  that  the  Spirit  of 
God  has  made  them  authentic,  and  consecrated 
them  part  of  the  holy  canon. 

6.  Being  thus  satisfied  in  the  canonicalness  of 
this  epistle,  none  but  St.  Jude  could  be  the  author 
of  it;  for  who  but  he  was  the  brother  of  St.  James  J 
a  character  by  which  he  is  described  in  the  evan- 
gelical story  more  than  once.  Grotius,  indeed, 
will  needs  have  it  written  by  a  younger  Jude,  the 
fifteenth  bishop  of  Jerusalem,  in  the  reign  of 
Adrian ;  and  because  he  saw  that  that  passage, 
"  the  brother  of  James,"  stood  full  in  his  way,  he 
concludes,  without  any  shadow  of  reason,  that  it 
was  added  by  some  transcriber.  But  is  not  this 
to  make  too  bold  with  sacred  things  }  is  not  this 
to  indulge  too  great  a  liberty?  This  once  allowed, 
it  will  soon  open  a  door  to  the  widest  and  most 
extravagant  conjectures,  and  no  man  shall  know 
where  to  find  sure  footing  for  his  faith.  But  the 
reader  may  remember,  what  we  have  elsewhere 
observed  concerning  the  posthume  annotations  of 
that  learned  man.  Not  to  say  that  there  are  many 
things  in  this  epistle  that  evidently  refer  to  the 
time  of  this  apostle,  and  imply  it  to  have  been 
written  upon  the  same  occasion,  and  about  the 
same  time  with  the  second  epistle  of  Peter,  be- 
tween which  and  this  tiiere  is  a  very  great  affinity 
both  in  words  and  matter ;  nay,  there  want  not 
some  that  endeavor  to  prove  this  epistle  to  have 
been  written  no  less  than  twenty-seven  years  be- 
fore that  of  Peter ;  and  that  hence  it  was,  that 
Peter  borrowed  those  passages  that  are  so  near 
akin  to  those  in  this  epistle.  The  design  of  the 
epistle  is  to  preserve  Christians  from  the  infection 
of  Gnosticism,  the  loose  and  debauched  principles 
vented  by  Simon  Magus  and  his  followers,  whose 
wretched  doctrines  and  practices  he  briefly  and 
elegantly  represents,  persuading  Christians  heart- 
ily "  to  contend  for  the  faith  that  had  been  deli- 
vered to  them  ;"  and  to  avoid  these  pernicious 
seducers  as  pests  and  firebrands,  not  to  communi- 
cate with  them  in  their  sins,  lest  they  perished 
with  them  in  that  terrible  vengeance  that  was 
ready  to  overtake  them. 


ST.    MATTHIAS. 

St.  Matthias  not  being  an  apostle  of  the  first 
election,  immediately  called  and  chosen  by  our  Sa- 
viour, particular  remarks  concerning  him  are  not 
to  be  expected  in  the  history  of  the  gospel.  He 
was  one  of  our  Lord's  disciples  (and  probably  one 
of  the  seventy)  tliat  had  attended  on  him  tJie 
whole  time  of  his  public  ministry,  and  after  his 
death  was  elected  into  the  apostleship  upon  this 
occasion.  Judas  Iscariot,  (so  called,  probably, 
1  from  the  place  of  his  nativity,  "  a  man  of  Kerioth," 
a  city  anciently  situate  in  the  tribe  of  Judah)  had 
been  one  of  the  twelve,  immediately  called  by 
Christ  to  be  one  of  his  intimate  disciples,  equally 
impowered  and  commissioned  with  the  rest  to 
preach  and  work  miracles,  "  was  numbered  with 
them,  and  had  obtained  part  of  their  ministry ;" 


and  yet  all  this  while  was  a  man  of  vile  and  cor- 
rupt design,  branded  with  no  meaner  a  character 
than  thief  and  murderer  :  to  let  us  see  that  there 
may  be  bad  servants  in  Christ's  own  family,  and 
that  the  wickedness  of  a  minister  does  not  eva- 
cuate his  commission,  nor  render  his  office  useless 
and  ineffectual.  The  unworthiness  of  the  instru- 
ment  hinders  not  the  ends  of  the  ministration  : 
seeing  the  efficacy  of  an  ordinance  depends  not 
upon  the  quality  of  the  person,  but  the  divine  in- 
stitution and  the  blessing  which  God  has  entailed 
upon  it.  Judas  preached  Christ,  no  doubt  with 
zeal  and  fervency,  and  for  any  thmg  we  know, 
with  as  much  success  as  the  rest  of  the  apostles  ; 
and  yet  he  was  a  bad  man,  a  man  actuated  by 
sordid  and  mean  designs,  one  that  had  prostituted 
religion  and  the  honor  of  his  place  to  covetous- 
ness  and  evil  arts.  The  love  of  money  had  so 
entirely  possessed  his  thoughts,  that  his  resolu- 
tions were  bound  for  nothing  but  interest  and  ad- 
vantage. "But  they  that  will  be  rich  fall  into 
temptation  and  a  snare."  This  covetous  temper 
betrayed  him,  as  in  the  issue,  to  the  most  fatal  end, 
so  to  the  most  desperate  attempt,  ayros  to  wavrwu 
avoaioiTaTov,  as  Origen  calls  the  putting  Christ  to 
death,  the  most  prodigious  impiety  tliat  the  sun 
ever  shone  on,  the  betraying  his  innocent  Lord 
into  the  hands  of  those  who  he  knew  would  treat 
him  with  all  the  circumstances  of  insolent  scorn 
and  cruelty.  How  little  does  kindness  work  upon 
a  disingenuous  mind !  It  was  not  the  honor  of 
the  place,  to  vvhicii,  when  thousands  of  others 
were  passed  by,  our  Lord  had  called  him,  the  ad- 
mitting him  into  a  free  and  intimate  fellowship 
with  his  person,  the  taking  him  to  be  one  of  his 
peculiar  domestics  and  attendants,  that  could  di- 
vert the  wretch  from  his  wicked  purpose.  He 
knew  how  desirous  the  great  men  of  the  nation 
were  to  get  Christ  into  their  hands,  especially  at 
the  time  of  the  passover,  that  he  might,  with  the 
more  public  disgrace,  be  sacrificed  before  all  the 
people,  and  thei'efore  bargains  with  them,  and  for 
no  greater  a  sum  than  under  four  pounds,  to  be- 
tray the  "  Lamb  of  God"  into  the  paws  of  these 
wolves  and  lions :  in  short,  he  heads  the  party, 
conducts  the  officers,  and  sees  him  delivered  into 
their  hands. 

2.  But  there  is  an  active  principle  in  man's 
breast,  that  seldom  suffers  daring  sinners  to  pass 
in  quiet  to  their  graves  :  awakened  with  the  hor- 
ror of  the  fact,  conscience  began  to  rouse  and  fol- 
low close,  and  the  man  was  unable  to  bear  up  un- 
der the  furious  revenges  of  his  own  mind  :  as  in- 
deed, all  wilful  and  deliberate  sins,  and  especially 
the  guilt  of  blood,  are  wont  more  sensible  to  alarm 
the  natural  notions  of  our  minds,  and  to  excite  in 
us  the  fears  of  some  present  vengeance  that  will 
seize  upon  us.  And  how  intolerable  are  those 
scourges  that  lash  us  in  this  vital  and  tender  part  1 
The  spirit  of  the  man  sinks  under  him,  and  all 
supports  snap  asunder :  as  what  ease  or  comfort 
can  he  enjoy,  that  carries  a  vulture  in  liis  bosom, 
always  gnawing  and  preying  upon  his  heart? 
which  made  Plutarch  compare  an  evil  conscience 
to  a  cancer  in  the  breast,  that  perpetually  gripes 
and  stings  the  soul  with  the  pains  of  an  intolera- 
ble repentance.  Guilt  is  naturally  troublesome 
and  uneasy  ;  it  disturbs  the  peace  and  serenity  of 
the  mind,  and  fills  the  soul  witli  storms  and  thun- 


126 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


der.  Did  "  ever  any  harden  himself  against  God, 
and  prosper  V  And,  indeed,  how  should  he,  when 
God  has  such  a  powerful  and  invisible  executioner 
in  his  own  bosom?  Whoever  rebels  against  the 
laws  of  his  duty,  and  plainly  affronts  the  dictates 
of  his  conscience,  does  that  moment  bid  adieu  to 
all  true  repose  and  quiet,  and  expose  himself  to 
the  severe  resentments  of  a  self-tormenting  mind. 
And  though,  by  secret  arts  of  wickedness,  he  may 
be  able  possibly  to  drown  and  stifle  the  voice  of  it 
for  a  while,  yet  every  httle  affliction  or  petty  ac- 
cident will  be  apt  to  awaken  it  into  horror,  and  to 
let  in  terror  like  an  armed  man  upon  him.  A  tor- 
ment infinitely  beyond  what  the  most  ingenious 
tyrants  could  ever  contrive.  Nothing  so  effectu- 
ally invades  our  ease  as  tlie  reproaches  of  our 
own  minds.  The  wrath  of  man  may  be  endured, 
but  the  irruptions  of  conscience  are  irresistible  ;  it  j 
is  (as  Ciirysostom  very  elegantly  styles  it,)  to  be 
choked  or  strangled  with  an  evil  conscience,  which 
oft  reduces  the  man  to  such  distresses,  as  to  make  | 
him  choose  death  rather  than  life.  A  sad  instance 
of  all  which  we  have  in  this  unhappy  man ;  who 
being  wearied  with  furious  and  melancholy  reflec- 
tions upon  what  was  past,  threw  back  the  wages 
of  iniquity  in  open  court,  and  despatched  himself 
by  a  violent  death  :  vainly  hoping  to  take  sanc- 
tuary in  the  grave,  and  that  he  should  meet  with 
that  ease  in  another  world  which  he  could  not  find 
in  this.  "  He  departed,  and  went  and  hanged 
himself,  and  falling  down  burst  asunder,  and  his 
bowels  gushed  out :"  leaving  a  memorable  warn- 
ing to  all  treacherous  and  ungrateful,  to  all  greedy 
and  covetous  persons,  not  to  let  the  world  insinu- 
ate itself  too  far  into  them  ;  and  indeed  to  all,  "to 
watch  and  pray,  that  they  enter  not  into  tempta- 
tion." Our  present  state  is  slippery  and  insecure  ; 
"  Let  him  that  thinketli  he  standeth,  take  heed 
lest  he  fall."  What  privileges  can  be  a  sufficient 
fence,  a  foundation  firm  enough  to  rely  upon,  when 
the  miracles,  sermons,  favors,  and  familiar  con- 
verses of  Ciirist  himself  could  not  secure  one  of 
the  apostles  from  so  fatal  an  apostacy '! 

3.  A  vacancy  being  thus  made  in  the  college 
of  apostles  ;  the  first  thing  they  did  after  their  re- 
turn from  Mount  Olivet,  where  our  Lord  took  his 
leave  of  them,  to  St.  John's  house  in  Mount  Sion, 
(the  place,  if  we  may  believe  Nicephorus,  where 
the  church  met  togetlier,)  was  to  fill  up  tiieir  num- 
ber with  a  fit,  proper  person.  To  which  purpose 
Peter  acquainted  them,  that  Judas,  according  to 
the  prophetical  prediction,  being  fallen  from  his 
ministry,  it  was  necessary  that  another  should  be 
substituted  in  his  room  :  one  that  had  been  a  con- 
stant companion  and  disciple  of  the  holy  Jesus, 
and  consequently  capable  of  bearing  witness  to 
his  life,  (leatli,  and  resurrection.  Two  were  pro- 
pounded in  order  to  the  choice,  Joseph  called  Bar- 
sabas,  and  Justus,  (whom  some  make  the  same 
with  Joses,  (»ne  of  the  brothers  of  our  Lord,)  and 
Matthias,  both  duly  qualified  for  the  place.  The 
way  of  election  was  by  lots,  a  way  frequently  used 
both  among  Jews  and  Gentiles  for  the  determina- 
tion of  doubtful  and  difficult  cases,  and  especially 
the  choosing  judges  and  magistrates  ;  and  this 
way  was  licre  taken  (says  one  of  the  ancients)  on 
purpose  to  comply  witii  the  old  custom  observed 
among  the  Jews,  that  in  the  election  of  an  apostle, 
they  migiit  not  seem  to  depart  from  the  way  that 


had  been  used  under  the  legal  state.  The  pseudo 
Dionysius,  author  of  the  Ecclesiastic  Hierachy» 
together  with  his  two  paraphrasts,  expressly  says, 
that  it  was  not  a  lot  that  was  used  in  this  case,  to 
determine  the  matter ;  but  some  immediate  and 
extraordinary  sign  from  heaven,  falling  upon  the 
candidate,  and  discovering  him  to  be  the  person 
chosen  by  God.  But  this  is  directly  contrary  to 
the  very  words  of  the  sacred  story,  which  say, 
that  "  they  gave  forth  the  lots,  and  that  the  lot  fell 
upon  Matthias."  And  this  course  the  apostles  the 
rather  took,  because  the  Holy  Ghost  was  not  yet 
given,  by  whose  immediate  dictates  and  inspira- 
tions they  were  chiefly  guided  afterwards.  And 
that  the  business  might  proceed  with  the  greater 
regularity  and  success,  they  first  solemnly  make 
their  address  to  heaven,  that  the  omniscient  Being 
that  governed  the  world,  and  perfectly  understood 
the  tempers  and  dispositions  of  men,  would  imme- 
diately guide  and  direct  the  choice,  and  show 
which  of  these  two  he  would  appoint  to  take  that 
part  of  the  apostolic  charge,  from  which  Judas  was 
so  lately  fallen.  The  lots  being  put  into  tlie  urn, 
Matthias's  name  was  drawn  out,  and  thereby  the 
apostolate  devolved  upon  him, 

4.  Not  long  after,  the  promised  powers  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  were  conferred  upon  the  apostles,  to 
fit  them  for  that  great  and  difficult  employment, 
upon  which  they  were  sent ;  and  among  the  rest 
St.  Matthias  betook  himself  to  his  charge  and  pro- 
vince. The  first-fruits  of  his  ministry  he  spent  in 
Judffia,  where  having  reaped  a  considerable  har- 
vest, he  betook  liimself  to  other  provinces.  An 
author,  I  confess  of  no  great  credit  in  these  mat- 
ters, tells  us,  that  he  preached  the  gospel  in  Mace- 
donia, where  the  GentOes,  to  make  an  experiment 
of  his  faith  and  integrity,  gave  him  a  poisonous 
and  intoxicating  potion,  whicii  he  cheerfully  drank 
off;  in  the  name  of  Christ,  without  the  least  pre- 
judice to  himself;  and  that  when  the  same  potion 
had  deprived  above  two  hundred  and  fifty  of  their 
sight,  he  laying  his  hands  upon  them,  restored 
them  to  their  sight ;  with  a  great  deal  more  of 
the  same  stamp,  which  I  have  neither  faith  enough 
to  believe,  nor  leisure  to  relate.  The  Greeks, 
with  more  probability,  report  him  to  have  travelled 
eastward  ;  he  came  (says  Nicephorus)  into  the 
first,  (says  Sophronius)  into  the  second  ^Ethiopia  ; 
and  in  both,  I  believe,  it  is  a  mistake,  either  of  the 
authors  or  transcribers,  for  Cappadocia  ;  his  resi- 
dence being  principally  near  the  eruption  of  the 
river  Apsarus,  and  the  liaven  Hyssus,  both  places 
in  Cappadocia.  Nor  is  there  any  ^^Sthiopia  nearer 
those  places  than  that  conterminous  to  Chaldsea, 
whereof  before.  And  as  for  those  that  tell  us, 
that  he  might  well  enough  preach  both  in  the 
Asian  and  African  ^Ethiopia  ;  and  that  both  might 
be  comprehended  under  that  general  name,  as  the 
eastern  and  western  parts  of  the  world  were  here- 
tofore contained  under  the  general  title  of  the 
Indias ;  it  is  a  fancy  without  any  other  ground  to 
stand  on  than  their  own  bare  conjecture.  The 
place  whither  he  came  was  very  barbarous,  and 
his  usage  was  accordingly.  For  here  meeting 
with  a  people  of  a  fierce  and  untractable  temper, 
he  was  treated  by  them  with  great  rudeness  and 
inhumanity,  from  whom,  after  aU  his  labors  and 
sufferings,  and  a  numerous  conversion  of  men  to 
Christianity,   he  obtained  at  last  the  crown  of 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES 


127 

the  Ten^ple  of  the  Sun.     An  ancient  Martyrdogy  '  founded  S  /oh"     4  ;aSlli  /T°"'  ''"> 
reports  h.m  to  have  been  seized  by  the  JeL,  and  ;  Alary  and  Mark     ker'sTmi  fo  R^'r  / 

as  a  blasphemer  to  have  been  stoned,  and  then    the  Lientrhe  is  <^^npr.irv   h.^  ^.^  ' ,  ^^ 

beheaded.     But  the  Greek  offices,  seconded  here-  |  ^TCl^Z^Z^^!'^!'^::^^^ 
in  by  several  ancient  breviaries,  teU  us  that  he    presslv  tells  u^   that  1  o  ,,,-,= ^L'^f'  . 

was  crucified ;  and  that  as  Judas  was  hanged  upon  I  fakin^itptS;  S^^^^^^ 

a  tree,  so  Matthias  suffered  upon  a  cross.  His  ;  ing  his  flesli  and  drinking  his  bbod,  went  back- 
body  IS  said  to  have  been  kept  a  long  time  at  Je-  i  and  walked  no  more  with  him  ;"  but  wis  season 
rusalem,  thence  thought  to  have  been  translated  ,  ably  reduced  and  reclaimed  by  Peo  But  no 
by  Helen  the  mother  of  tlie  great  Constantine,  to  foundation  appears  either  for  the  one  or  for  the 
Rome,  where  some  parts  of  it  are  shown  with  |  other ;  nay,  Papias,  bishop  of  Hioranolis  who 
great  veneration  at  this  day  Though  others,  I  lived  near  those  times,  posiively  affirms  hat  he 
with  as  great  eagerness  and  probably  as  much  I  was  no  hearer  nor  follower  of  our  Saviour.  He  wS 
truth,  contend  that  his  relics  were  brought  to,  and  |  converted  by  some  of  the  apostles,  and  probably 
are  st.ll  preserved  at  Triers  in  Germany,  a  con-  j  by  St.  Peterf  who  is  said  to  have  been  his  under^ 
troversy  wherein  I  shall  not  concern  myself.  His  ,  taker  at  his  baptism,  (if  I  understand  Isidore 
memory  is  celebrated  m  the  Greek  church,  Au-  i  aright,)  for  no  other  reason  I  suppose,  but  because 
gust  J,  as  appears  not  only  from  their  menologies,  he  calls  him  his  son.  Indeed  he  was  his  constant 
but  from  a  novel  constitution  of  Manuel  Comne-  attendant  in  his  travels,  supplying  the  place  of  an 
nus,  appointmg  what  holy  days  should  be  kept  in  i  amanuensis  and  interpreter;  for  though  theapos- 
the  cliurch  ;  while  tne  western  churches  kept  |  ties  were  divinely  inspired,  and  among  other  mi- 
february  24,  sacred  to  his  memory.  Among  |  raculous  powers  had  the  gift  of  languatres  con- 
many  other  apocryphal  writings  attributed  to  the  I  ferred  upon  them,  vet  was  the  ''interpretation  oi 
apostles,  there  was  a  gospel  published  under  his  ^  tongues"  a  gift  more  peculiar  to  some  than  others, 
name,  mentioned  by  Eusebius  and  the  ancients,  I  This  might  probably  be  St.  Mark's  talent  in  ex- 
am! condemned  with  the  rest  by  Gelasius,  bisliop  \  pounding  St.  Peter's  discourses,  wlietlier  by  word 
ot  Rome,  as  it  had  been  rejected  by  others  before  |  or  writing,  to  those  who  understood  not  the  lan- 
him.  Under  his  name  also  there  were  extant  tra-  !  guage  wherein  they  were  delivered.  He  accom- 
tlitions,  cited  by  Clemens  of  Alexandria,  from  |  panred  him  in  his  apostolical  prepress,  preached 
whence,  no  question,  it  was  that  the  Nicolaitans  |  the  gospel  in  Italy  and  at  Rome,  where,  at  the  re- 
borrowed that  saying  of  his,  which  they  abused  quest  of  the  Christians  of  those  parts,  he  com- 
to  vile  and  beastly  purposes  ;  as  under  the  pre-  posed  and  wrote  his  gospel, 
tended  patronage  of  his  name  and  doctrines,  the  2.  By  Peter  he  was  sent  into  Egypt  to  plant 
Marcionites  and  Valentinians  defended  some  of  Christianity  in  those  parts,  fixing  his  main  resi- 
their  most  absurd  and  impious  opinions.*  dence  at  Alexandria,  and  the  places  thereabouts  ; 

where  so  great  (says  Eusebius)  was  the  success 
of  his  ministry,  that  he  converted  multitudes  both 
of  men  and  women,  not  only  to  the  embracing  of 
the  Christian  religion,  but  to  a  more  than  ordinary 
strict  profession  of  it,  insomuch  that  Philo  wrote 
a  book  of  their  peculiar  rites  and  way  of  life  ;  the 
only  reason  why  St.  Jerome  reckons  him  among 
the  writers  of  the  church.  Indeed  Philo  the  Jew 
wrote  a  book,  extant  at  this  day,  wherein  he 
speaks  of  a  sort  of  persons  called  ecpaircvrat,  who 
in  many  parts  of  the  world,  but  especially  in  a 
pleasant  place  near  the  Mareotick  lake  in  Egypt, 
had  formed  themselves  into  religious  societies ; 
and  gives  a  large  account  of  their  rites,  customs, 
and  strict,  philosophical,  and  contemplative  course 
of  life.  He  tells  us  of  them,  that  when  they  first 
enter  upon  this  way,  they  renounce  all  secular  in- 
terests and  employments,  and  leaving  their  estates 
to  their  relations,  retire  into  groves  and  gardens, 
and  places  devoted  to  solitude  and  contemplation  ; 
that  they  had  their  houses  or  colleges,  not  conti- 
guous, that  so  being  free  from  noise  and  tumult, 
they  might  the  better  minister  to  the  designs  of  a 
contemplative  life  ;  nor  yet  removed  at  too  great  a 
distance,  that  they  might  maintain  mutual  society, 
J     ^  .  .,     ,  •   .         r    and  be  conveniently  capable  of  helping  and  assist- 

lention,  and  ot  comparison  with  the  annoiniing  of    .  .,         ,  ■'   „ 'i  „f  ,i u  ..,.^„  .u^.^ .>„ 

-    -     '  '  ^        ing  one  another.  Ineachof  these  houses  there  was 

an  oratory,  called  St/i^tiov  and  Muvaanipioy,  wherein 


ST.    MARK 


THE  EVANGELIST. 


St.  Mark,  though  carrying  something  of  Roman 
in  his  name,  probably  assumed  by  him  upon  some 
great  change  or  accident  of  his  life,  or,  which  was 
not  unusual  among  the  Jews,  when  visiting  the 
European  provinces  of  the  Roman  empire,  taken 
up  at  his  going  for  Italy  and  Rome,  was  doubtless 


♦There  are  many  circumstances  respecting  St. 
Matthias  which  the  Christian  inquirer  naturally 
regards  with  considerable  interest.  The  holiness 
of  a  man  chosen  to  fill  up  the  number  in  the  com- 
pany of  the  peculiarly  elected  apostles  must  have 
been  great  and  singular;  while  the  manner  in 
which  he  was  elected  and  consecrated,  affords,  in 
the  first  place,  a  valuable  instance  of  the  mode  in 
which  these  founders  of  the  Christian  church  pro- 
ceeded in  the  earliest  exercise  of  their  episcopal 
functions,  if  we  may  so  speak  ;  and  in  the  next,  an 
instance  of  divine  interference  well  worthy  of  at- 


St.  Paul  to  the  apostolic  office  by  the  Redeemer ;  now 
exercising  on  his  throne  in  heaven  the  same  care 
for  the  propagating  of  his  religion,  as  he  did  while 
visible  on  earth. — Ed. 

98  ^23> 


they  discharged  the  more  secret  and  solemn  rites 
of  their  religion ;  divided  in  the  middle  with  a  parti- 


128 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES 


tion-waU  three  or  four  cubits  high,  the  one  apart- 
ment being  for  the  men,  and  the  other  for  the 
women:  here  they  publicly  met  every  seventh 
day,  where  being  set  according  to  their  seniority, 
and  having  composed  themselves  with  great  de- 
cency and  reverence,  the  most  aged  person  among 
them,  and  best  skilled  in  the  dogmata  and  princi- 
ples of  their  institution,  came  forth  into  the  midst, 
gravely  and  soberly  discoursing  what  might  make 
the  deepest  impression  upon  their  minds  ;  the 
rest  attending  with  a  profound  silence,  and  only 
testifying  their  assent  with  the  motion  of  their 
eyes  or  head.  Their  discourses  were  usually 
mystical  and  allegorical,  seeking  hidden  senses 
under  plain  words ;  and  of  such  an  allegorical 
philosophy  consisted  the  books  of  their  religion, 
left  them  by  their  ancestors  :  the  law  they  com- 
pared to  an  animal,  the  letter  of  it  resembling  the 
body,  while  the  soul  of  it  lay  in  those  abstruse  and 
recondite  notions  which  the  external  veil  and  sur- 
face of  the  words  concealed  from  vulgar  under- 
standing. He  tells  us  also  tliat  they  took  very 
little  care  of  the  body,  perfecting  their  minds  by 
precepts  of  wisdom  and  religion ;  the  day  they 
entirely  spent  in  pious  and  divine  meditation,  in 
reading  and  expounding  the  law  and  the  prophets, 
and  the  holy  volumes  of  the  ancient  founders  of 
their  sect,  and  in  singing  hymns  to  the  honor  of 
their  Maker;  absolutely  temperate  and  abste- 
mious, neither  eating  nor  drinking  till  night,  the 
only  time  they  thought  fit  to  refresh  and  regard 
the  body ;  some  of  them  out  of  an  insatiable  de- 
sire of  growing  in  knowledge  and  virtue,  fasting- 
many  days  together.  What  diet  they  had  was 
very  plain  and  simple,  sufficient  only  to  provide 
against  hunger  and  thirst ;  a  little  bread,  salt,  and 
water  being  their  constant  bill  of  fare :  their 
clothes  were  as  mean  as  their  food,  designed  only 
as  a  present  security  against  cold  and  nakedness. 
And  this  not  only  the  case  of  men,  but  of  pious 
and  devout  women,  that  lived  (tiiough  separately) 
among  them  ;  that  they  religiously  observed  every 
seventh  day,  and  especially  the  preparatory  week 
to  the  great  solemnity,  which  they  kept  with  all 
expressions  of  a  more  severe  abstinence  and  de- 
votion. This  and  much  more  he  has  in  that  tract 
concerning  them. 

3.  These  excellent  persons  Eusebius  perempto- 
rily affirms  to  have  been  Christians,  converted  and 
brought  under  those  admirable  rules  and  institu- 
tions of  life  by  St.  Mark,  at  his  coming  hither,  ac- 
commodating all  passages  to  the  manners  and  dis- 
cipline of  Christians  ;  follov.od  herein  by  Epipha- 
nius,  Jerome,  and  others  of  old,  as  by  "Baronius, 
and  some  otliers  of  later  time  :  and  this  so  far 
taken  for  granted,  that  many  have  hence  fetched 
the  rise  of  monasteries  and  religious  orders  ajnong 
Christians.  But  whoever  seriously  and  impartially 
considers  Philo's  account,  will  plainly  find  that  he 
intends  it  of  Jews  and  professors  of  the  Mosaic 
religion,  though  wliether  Essenes,  or  of  some  other 
particular  sect  among  them,  I  stand  not  to  deter- 
mine. Tliat  tlioy  were  not  Christians,  is  evident, 
besides  that  Philo  gives  not  the  least  intimation  of 
it,  partly  because  it  is  improbable  that  Philo,  being 
a  Jew,  should  give  so  great  a  character  and  com- 
mendation of  Christians,  so  hateful  to  the  Jews  at 
that  time  in  all  places  of  the  world  ;  partly  in  that 
Philo  speaks  of  them  as  an  institution  of  some  con- 


siderable  standing,  whereas  Christians  had  but 
lately  appeared  in  the  world,  and  were  later  come 
into  Egypt ;  partly  because  many  parts  of  Philo's 
account  do  no  way  suit  with  the  state  and  man- 
ners of  Christians  at  that  time  ;  as  that  they  with- 
drew themselves  from  pubHc  converse,  and  all  af- 
fairs of  civil  life,  which  Christians  never  did,  but 
when  forced  by  violent  persecutions  ;  for  ordinari- 
ly, as  Justin  Martyr,  and  Tertullian  tell  us,  they 
promiscuously  dwelt  in  towns  and  cities,  ploughed 
their  lands  and  followed  their  trades,  eat  and 
drank,  and  were  clothed  and  habited  like  other 
men.  So  when  he  says,  that  besides  the  books 
of  Moses  and  the  prophets,  they  had  the  writings 
of' the  ancient  authors  of  their  sect  and  institution, 
this  cannot  be  meant  of  Christians  :  for  though 
Eusebius  would  understand  it  of  the  writings  of 
the  evangelists  and  apostles,  yet  besides  that  there 
were  few  of  them  published  when  Philo  wrote  this 
discourse,  they  were  moreover  of  too  late  an  edi- 
tion to  come  under  the  character  of  ancient  au- 
thors. Not  to  say,  that  some  of  their  rites  and 
customs  were  such,  as  the  Christians  of  those  days 
were  mere  strangers  to,  not  taken  up  by  the  Chris- 
tian  church  till  many  years,  and  some  of  them  not 
till  some  ages  after.  Nay  some  of  them  never 
used  by  any  of  the  primitive  Christians  ;  such 
were  their  "  religious  dances"  which  they  had  at 
their  festival  solemnities,  especially  that  great  one 
which  they  held  at  the  end  of  every  seven  weeks ; 
when  their  entertainment  being  ended,  they  all 
rose  up,  the  men  in  one  company,  the  women  in 
another,  dancing  with  various  measures  and  mo- 
tions, each  company  singing  divine  hymns  and 
songs,  and  having  a  prcecentor  going  before  them, 
now  one  singing,  and  anon  anotlier,  till  in  the  con- 
elusion  they  joined  in  one  common  chorus,  in  imi- 
tation of  the  triumphant  song  sung  by  Moses  and 
the  Israelites  after  their  deliverance  at  the  Red 
Sea.  To  all  which  let  me  add,  v/hat  a  learned 
man  has  observed,  that  the  Essenes  (if  Philo 
means  them)  were  great  physicians,  (thence  pro- 
bably ca]\ed  QcpaircvTai,  "  healers  :"  though  Philo, 
who  is  apt  to  turn  all  things  into  allegory,  refers  it 
only  to  their  curing  "the  souls  of  men  infected 
and  over-run  with  difficult  and  desperate  distem- 
pers, created  by  pleasures  and  extravagant  appe- 
tites, and  a  long  train  of  other  lusts  and  passions.") 
Josephus  reporting  of  them  that  they  accurately 
study  the  writings  of  the  ancients,  excerping 
thence  whatever  is  conducive  either  to  soul  or 
body ;  and  that  for  the  curing  of  diseases,  they 
diligently  inquired  into  the  virtues  of  roots  and 
stones  that  were  most  proper  to  drive  away  dis- 
tempers. An  account  no  ways  agreeing  with  the 
Christians  of  tliose  times,  who  miraculously  cured 
diseases  without  the  arts  of  physic,  or  any  other 
preparations,  than  calling  the  na"me  of  Christ  over 
the  afilicted  person.  Doubtless  that  which  led 
Eusebius  into  the  mistake,  was  the  conformity 
that  he  observed  between  the  Christian  'ackvtoi, 
in  and  before  his  time,  who  entered  upon  a  more 
strict  and  severe  course  of  life,  and  those  Thera- 
peuta)  described  by  Philo,  an  ordinary  fancy  being 
able  to  draw  a  fair  parallel  between  them,  and  so 
it  was  but  removing  them  some  ages  higher,  and 
imagining  them  to  have  been  converted  and  found- 
ed by  St.  Mark,  and  the  work  was  done.  Indeed 
it  is  not  to  be  doubted,  but  that  persons  educated 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES 


129 


under  these  excellent  rules  and  methods  of  life, 
were  more  than  ordinarily  prepared  for  the  recep- 
tion of  Christianity,  (between  which  and  their 
;  -inciples  and  rules  of  life,  there  was  so  great  an 

ilnity  and  agreement,)  which  must  needs  render 
'ir  evangelist's  success  great  in  those  parts,  and 
je-.i  the  way  for  men  to  come  flocking  over  to  the 
iaith. 

4.  St.  Mark  did  not  confine  his  preaching  to 
-\lexandria,  and  the  oriental  parts  of  Egypt,  but 
)  emoved  westward  to  the  parts  of  Libya,  going 
through  the  countries  of  Marmarica,  Pentapolis, 
and  others  thereabouts  ;  where,  though  the  peo- 
I'le  were  both  barbarous  in  their  manners,  and 
idolatrous  in  their  worship,  yet  by  his  preaching 
and  miracles  ho  made  way  for  tlio  entertain- 
ment of  the  gospel ;  and  left  them  not,  till  he  had 
not  only  gained  them  to,  but  confirmed  them  in 
the  profession  of  it.  Returning  to  Alexandria  he 
preached  freely,  and  ordered  and  disposed  the  af- 
fairs of  the  church,  and  wisely  provided  for  suc- 
cession by  constituting  governors  and  pastors  of  it. 
But  the  restless  enemy  of  the  souls  of  men  would 
not  long  suffer  him  to  be  quiet.  It  was  the  time 
of  Easter,  at  which  season  the  great  solemnities 
of  Serapis  happened  to  be  celebrated,  when  the 
minds  of  the  people  being  excited  to  a  passionate 
vindication  of  the  honor  of  tiieir  idol,  broke  in  upon 
St.  Mark,  then  engaged  in  the  solemn  celebra- 
tion of  divine  worship,  and  binding  his  feet  with 
cords,  dragged  him  through  the  streets  and  the 
most  craggy  places  to  the  Bucelus,  a  precipice  near 
the  sea,  and  for  that  night  thrust  him  into  prison, 
where  his  soul  was,  by  a  divine  vision,  erected  and 
encouraged  under  the  ruins  of  his  shattered  body. 
Early  the  next  morning  the  tragedy  began  again  ; 
dragging  him  about  in  the  same  manner,  till  his 
tlesh  being  raked  off,  and  his  blood  run  out,  his 
spirits  failed,  and  he  expired.  But  their  malice 
died  not  with  him  ;  Metaphrastes  adds,  that  they 
burnt  his  body,  wliose  bones  and  ashes  the  Chris- 
tians there  decently  entombed,  near  the  place 
where  he  was  wont  to  preach.  His  body,  at  least 
the  remains  of  it,  were  afterwards,  witii  great 
pomp,  removed  fi-oni  Alexandria  to  Venice,  where 
they  are  religiously  honored,  and  he  adopted  as 
the  tutelar  saint  and  patron  of  that  state,  and  one 
of  the  richest  and  stateliest  churches  erected  to 
his  memory  that  the  churcii  can  boast  of  at  this 
day.  He  suffered  in  the  month  Pharmuthi,  on  the 
25th  of  i.\pril,  thougli  the  certain  year  of  his  mar- 
tyrdom is  not  precisely  determined  by  the  ancients. 
Kersteniiis,  out  of  the  Arabic  memoirs  of  his  life, 
says  it  was  in  the  fourteenth  or  last  year  of  Clau- 
dius :  St.  Jerome  places  it  in  the  eighth  of  Nero. 
But  extravagantly  wide  is  Dorotheus's  computa- 
tion, who  makes  him  to  suffer  in  the  time  of  Trajan, 
with  as  much  truth  as  Nicephorus,  on  the  other 
hand,  affirms  him  toiiave  come  into  Egypt  in  the 
reign  of  Tiberius.  If  in  so  great  variety  of  opi- 
nions I  may  interpose  my  conjecture,  I  should 
reckon  him  to  have  suffered  about  the  end  of 
Nero's  reign  :  for  supposing  him  to  have  come 
with  St.  Peter  to  Rome  about  the  fifth  or  sixth 
year  of  Nero,  he  miglit  thence  be  despatched  to 
Alexandria,  and  spend  the  residue  of  his  life,  and 
of  that  emperor's  reign,  in  planting  Christianity  in 
those  parts  of  the  world.  Sure  I  am  that  Irenajus 
reoorts  St.  ]\Iark  to  have  outlived  Peter  and  Paul, 


and  that  after  their  decease  he  composed  his  gos- 
pel out  of  those  things  which  he  had  heard  Peter 
preach.  But  whatever  becomes  of  that,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  Irenaeus  supposed  (whose  supposition 
certainly  was  not  founded  upon  mere  fancy  and 
conjecture)  that  St.  Mark  for  some  considerable 
time  survived  the  martyrdom  of  tliose  two  great 
apostles.  A  passage  that  so  troubled  Christopher, 
son,  (one  of  those  who  in  these  latter  ages  first 
translated  Eusebius  into  Latin,)  because  crossing 
the  accounts  of  their  writers  in  this  matte-,  that 
he  chose  rather  to  expunge  the  word,  decease, 
and  substitute  another  of  a  quite  different  sense, 
expressly  contrary  to  the  faith  of  all  ancient  copies, 
and  to  the  most  ancient  version  of  Irenajus  itself. 
But  to  return.  St.  Mark,  as  to  his  person,  was  of 
a  middle  size  and  stature,  his  nose  long.  Ids  eye- 
brows turning  back,  his  eyes  graceful  and  amia- 
ble, his  head  bald,  his  beard  prolix  and  gray,  his 
gait  quick,  the  constitution  of  his  body  strong  and 
healthful. 

5.  His  gospel,  the  only  book  he  left  behind  him, 
was,  as  before  we  observed,  written  at  the  entreaty 
of  tfie  converts  at  Rome,  who  not  content  to  have 
heard  Peter  preach,  pressed  St.  Mark,  his  dis- 
ciple, that  he  would  commit  to  writing  an  histori- 
cal account  of  what  he  had  delivered  to  them; 
which  he  performed  with  no  less  faithfulness  than 
brevity,  all  which  St.  Peter  perused,  ratified  with 
his  authority,  and  commanded  to  be  publicly  read 
in  their  religious  assemblies.  And  tliougli,  as  we 
noted  but  now,  Irenajus  seems  to  intimate  that  it 
was  written  after  St.  Peter's  death  ;  yet  all  thai 
can  be  inferred  hence  will  be,  what  in  itself  is  a 
matter  of  no  great  moment  and  importance,  that 
the  ancients  were  not  agreed  in  assigning  the 
exact  time  when  the  several  gospels  were  publish- 
ed to  the  world.  If  we  will  give  way  to  the  con- 
jectures  of  a  learned  man,  the  difficulty  will  soon 
cease :  he  tells  us,  that  the  ficra  tutuv  tlo^/v  in  Ire- 
najus,  should  be  rendered  not  "  after  their  death," 
but  "  after  their  departure,"  viz.  from  Rome.  And 
though  this  be  not  the  common  usage  of  the  word, 
yet  might  it  have  been  admitted,  had  there  been 
any  authority  of  the  ancients  to  prove  that  St. 
Peter  was  twice  at  Rome.  Therefore,  not  relying 
upon  this,  he  flies  to  an  ancient  copy,  where  the 
words  are  read  lara  tutu  cKioatv,  "  after  the  publica- 
tion"  of  St.  Matthew's  gospel,  whereof  Irenseus 
had  spoken  in  the  words  before.  But  he  should 
have  done  well  to  have  named  his  ancient  copy, 
no  such  having  been  hitherto  mentioned  by  any 
other  writer.  And  therefore,  it  leaves  a  suspicion 
that  he  had  no  better  authority  than  tlie  boldness 
of  Christopherson,  who,  indeed,  thrusts  such  a 
conjecture  into  the  margin  of  his  book,  and  ac- 
cordingly so  renders  it 'in  his  translation,  with  what 
design'^  we  observed  before.  But  to  return.  It 
was'^frequently  styled  St.  Peter's  gosjiel,  not  so 
much  because  dictated  by  him  to  St.  Mark,  as  be- 
cause he  principally  composed  it  out  of  that  ac- 
count which  St.  Peter  usually  delivered  in  his  dis- 
!  courses  to  the  people.  Which  probably  is  the 
reason  of  what  Chrysostom  observes,  that  in  his 
!  style  and  manner  of  expression  he  delights  to  imi- 
tate St.  Peter,  representing  much  in  a  few  words. 
Though  he  commonly  reduces  the  story  of  our 
Saviour's  acts  into  a  narrower  compats  than  St. 
I  Matthew,  yet  want  there  not  passages  which  he 


13^ 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


relates  more  largely  than  he.  The  last  chapter 
of  his  gospel,  at  least  part  of  it,  was  (as  Jerome 
informs  us)  wanting  in  all  ancient  Greek  copies, 
rejected  upon  pretence  of  some  disagreement  with 
tlie  other  gospels,  though,  as  he  there  shows,  they 
are  fairly  consistent  with  each  other.  His  great 
impartiality  in  his  relations  appears  from  hence, 
that  he  is  so  far  from  concealing  the  shameful 
lapse  and  denial  of  Peter,  his  dear  tutor  and  mas- 
ter, 1  hat  he  sets  it  down  with  some  particular  cir- 
cunif^tances  and  aggravations,  which  the  other 
evangelists  take  no  notice  of.  Some  dispute  has 
been  made  in  what  language  it  was  written, 
whether  in  Greek  or  Latin  :  that  which  seems  to 
give  most  countenance  to  the  Latin  original,  is  the 
note  that  we  find  at  the  end  of  the  Synac  version 
of  this  gospel,  where  it  is  said  that  Mark  preached 
and  declared  his  holy  gospel  at  Rome,  in  the  Ro- 
man, or  the  Latin  tongue.  An  evidence  that  with 
me  would  almost  carry  the  force  of  a  demonstra- 
tion, were  I  assured  that  this  note  is  of  equal  value 
and  authority  with  that  ancient  version,  generally 
suppospd  to  come  very  few  centuries  short  of  the 
apostolic  age.  But  we  know  how  usual  it  is  for 
such  additions  to  be  made  by  som'?  later  hand ; 
and  \\  hat  credit  is  to  be  given  to  the  subscriptions 
at  the  end  of  St.  Paul's  epistles,  we  have  showed 
elsewhere.  Besides,  that  it  is  not  here  said  that 
he  wrote,  but  that  he  preached  his  gospel  at  Rome 
in  thai  language.  The  advocates  of  the  Romish 
church  i^lead,  that  it  is  very  congruous  and  suita- 
ble, that  it  should  at  first  be  consigned  to  writing 
in  that  language,  being  principally  designed  for 
the  use  of  the  Christians  at  Rome.  An  objection 
that  will  easily  vanish,  when  we  consider  that  as 
the  convert  Jews  there  understood  very  little 
Latin,  so  there  were  very  few  Romans  that  un- 
derstood not  Greek,  it  being  (as  appears  from  the 
writers  of  that  age)  the  genteel  and  fashionable 
language  of  those  times.  Nor  can  any  good  rea- 
son be  assigned,  why  it  should  be  more  inconve- 
nient for  St.  Mark  to  write  his  gospel  in  Greek  for 
the  use  of  the  Romans,  than  that  St.  Paul  should, 
m  the  same  language,  write  his  epistle  to  that 
church.  The  original  Greek  copy,  written  with 
St.  Mark's  own  hand,  is  said  to  be  extant  at 
Venice  at  this  day ;  written  (as  they  tell  us)  by 
him  at  Aqudeia,  and  thence,  after  many  hundreds 
of  years,  translated  to  Venice,  where  it  is  still 
preserved,  though  the  letters  so  worn  out  with 
length  of  time,  that  they  are  not  capable  of  bein"- 
read.  A  story  which  as  I  cannot  absolutely  disl 
prove,  so  I  am  not  very  forward  to  believe,  and 
that  for  more  reasons  than  I  think  worth  while  to 
msist  on  in  this  place. 


ST.    LUKE 

'  THE  EVANGELIST. 

St.  Luke  was  born  at  Antioch,  the  metropolis  of 
Syria,  a  city  celebrated  for  its  extraordinary  bless- 
ings and  eminence,  the  pleasantness  of  its  situa- 
tion, the  fertility  of  its  soil,  the  riches  of  its  traffic, 
the  wisdom  of  its  senate,  the  learn  in  o-  of  its  pro- 
fessors, the  civility  and  politeness  of  its  inhabi- 


tants, by  the  pens  of  some  of  the  greatest  orators 
of  their  times  :  and  yet,  above  all  these,  renowned 
for  this  one  peculiar  honor,  that  here  it  was  that 
the  disciples  were  first  called  Christians.  It  was 
an  university,  replenished  with  schools  of  learning, 
wherein  were  professors  of  all  arts  and  sciences. 
So  that  being  born  in  the  very  lap  of  the  muses, 
he  could  not  well  miss  of  an  ingenious  and  liberal 
education,  his  natural  parts  meeting  with  the  ad- 
vantages of  great  improvements.  Nay,  we  are 
told,  that  he  studied  not  only  at  Antioch,  but  in 
all  the  schools  both  of  Greece  and  Egypt,  whereby 
he  became  accomplished  in  all  parts  of  learning 
and  human  sciences.  Being  thus  furnished  out 
with  skill  in  all  the  preparatory  institutions  of  phi- 
losophy, he  more  particularly  applied  himself  to 
the  study  of  physic,  for  which  the  Grecian  acade- 
mies were  most  famous ;  though  they  that  hence 
infer  the  quality  of  his  birth  and  fortunes,  forget 
to  consider,  that  this  noble  art  was  in  those  times 
generally  managed  by  persons  of  no  better  rank 
than  servants :  upon  which  account  a  learned 
man  conceives  St.  Luke,  though  a  Syrian  by  birth, 
to  have  been  a  servant  at  Rome,  where  he  some- 
times practised  physic  ;  and  whence  being  manu- 
mitted, he  returned  into  his  own  country,  and  pro- 
bably continued  his  profession  all  his  life  ;  it  being 
so  fairly  consistent  with,  and  in  many  cases  so 
subservient  to  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  and  the 
care  of  souls.  Besides  his  abilities  in  physic,  he 
is  said  to  have  been  very  skilful  in  painting,  and 
there  are  no  less  than  three  or  four  several  pieces 
still  in  being,  pretended  to  have  been  dravi'n  with 
his  own  hand  ;  a  tradition  which  Gretser  the  Je- 
suit sets  himself  with  a  great  deal  of  pains,  and 
to  very  little  perpose,  to  defend ;  though  his 
authors,  either  in  respect  of  credit  or  antiquity, 
deserve  very  little  esteem  and  value.  Of  more 
authority  with  me  would  be  an  ancient  inscription 
found  in  a  vault  near  the  church  of  St.  Mary,  in 
Via  Lata,  at  Rome,  supposed  to  have  been  the 
place  where  St.  Paul  dwelt,  wherein  mention  is 
made  of  a  picture  of  the  blessed  virgin,  una  ex 
VII.  AB  LucA  DEPicTis,  "being  one  of  the  seven 
painted  by  St.  Luke." 

2.  He  was  a  Jewish  proselyte  ;  Antioch  abound- 
ing with  men  of  that  nation,  who  had  here  their 
synagogues  and  schools  of  education  ;  so  that  we 
need  not,  with  Theophylact,  send  him  to  Jerusa- 
lem to  be  instructed  in  the  study  of  the  law.  As 
for  that  opinion  of  Epiphanius  and  others,  that  he 
was  one  of  the  seventy  disciples,  one  of  those 
that  deserted  our  Lord  for  the  unwelcome  dis- 
course he  made  to  them,  but  recalled  afterward 
by  St.  Paul,  I  behold  it  as  a  story  of  the  same 
coin  and  stamp  with  that  of  St.  Mark's  leaving 
Christ  upon  the  same  occasion,  and  being  reduced 
by  Peter,  and  that  the  one  was  made  to  answer 
the  other ;  as  upon  no  better  ground  it  is  said, 
that  he  was  one  of  those  two  disciples  that  were 
going  to  Emmaus.  For  besides  the  silence  of 
Scripture  in  the  case,  he  himself  plainly  confesses, 
that  he  was  not  from  the  beginning  an  "  eye-wit- 
ness and  minister  of  the  word."  Most  probable 
it  is,  that  he  was  converted  by  St.  Paul  during  his 
abode  at  Antioch ;  when,  as  the  apostles  of 
catchers  of  fish  were  become  fishers  of  men,  so 
he  of  a  physician  of  the  body  became  a  physician 
of  the  soul.     This  Nicephorus  will  have  to  have 


OLIVES    OP   THE    APOSTLES." 


131 


been  done  at  Thebes,  the  chief  city  of  Boeotia, 
about  forty  miles  from  Athens,  thoujjh  it  appears 
not  to  me  by  any  credible  author  that  ever  St. 
Paul  was  there.  He  became  ever  after  his  inse- 
parable companion  and  fellow-laborer  in  the  mi- 
nistry of  the  gospel,  especially  after  his  going  into 
Macedonia;  from  which  time,  in  recording  tlie 
history  of  St.  Paul's  travels,  he  always  speaks  of 
himself  in  his  own  person.*  He  followed  him  in 
all  his  dangers,  was  with  him  at  his  several  ar- 
raignments at  Jerusalem,  accompanied  him  in  his 
desperate  voyage  to  Rome,  where  he  still  attend- 
ed on  him  to  serve  his  necessities,  and  supply 
those  ministerial  offices  which  the  apostle's  con- 
finement would  not  suffer  him  to  undergo,  and  es- 
pecially in  carrying  messages  to  those  churches 
where  he  had  planted  Christianity.  This  infinite- 
ly endeared  him  to  St.  Paul,  who  owned  him  for 
his  fellow-laborer,  called  him  « the  beloved  phy- 
sician," and  "  the  brother  whose  praise  is  in  the 
gospel,  throughout  all  the  churches ;"  which  the 
ancients,  and  especially  Ignatius,  apply  to  our 
evangelists. 

3.  Probable  it  is  that  he  did  not  wholly  leave  St. 
Paul  till  he  had  finished  his  course,  and  crowned 
all  with  martyrdom ;  though  there  are  that  tell 
us,  that  he  left  St.  Paul  at  Rome,  and  returned 
back  into  the  east,  travelled  into  Egypt  and  the 
parts  of  Libya,  preached  the  gospel,  wrought  mi- 
racles, converted  multitudes,  constituted  guides 
and  ministers  of  religion,  yea,  that  he  himself 
took  upon  him  the  episcopal  charge  of  the  city  of 
Thebais.  Epiphanius  gives  upon  this  account, 
that  he  first  preached  in  Dalmatia,  and  Galatia 
(he  reads  it  irr;?  TaXXia,  in  Gaul,  or  France,  and 
peremptorily  affirms,  that  they  are  all  mistaken 
that  say  it  was  Galatia  where  Cresens  preached, 
though  some  think  that  himself  in  the  mean  while 
■  i  under  the  most  confident  mistake,)  then  in  Italy 
nd  Macedonia  ;  where  he  spared  no  pains,  de- 
clined no  dangers,  that  he  might  faithfully  dis- 
charge the  trust  committed  to  him.  The  ancients 
are  not  very  well  agreed,  either  about  the  time  or 
manner  of  his  death  ;  some  affirming  him  to  die 
in  Egypt,  others  in  Greece,  the  Roman  martyr- 
ology,  in  Bithynia,  Dorotheus,  at  Ephesus  ;  some 
make  him  die  a  natural,  others  a  violent  death. 
Indeed  neither  Eusebius  nor  St.  Jerome  take  any 
notice  of  it ;  but  Nazianzen,  Paulinus,  bishop  of 
Nola,  and  several  others,  expressly  assert  his 
martyrdom ;  whereof  Nicephorus  give  this  par- 
ticular account,  that  coming  into  Greece  he  suc- 
cessfully preached,  and  baptized  many  converts 
into  the  Christian  faith,  till  a  party  of  infidels, 
making  head  against  him,  drew  him  to  execution; 
and  in  want  of  a  cross  whereon  to  despatch  him 
presently,  hanged  him  upon  an  olive-tree,  in  the 
eightieth  (the  eighty-fourth  says  St.  Jerome)  year 
of  his  age.  Kirstenius,  from  an  ancient  Arabic 
writer,  makes  him  to  have  sutfered  martyrdom  at  I 
Rome,  which  he  thinks  might  probably  be  after  I 
St.  Paul's  first  imprisonment  there,  and  departure  | 
Jience  ;  when  St.  Luke  being  left  behind  as  his  j 
leputy  to  supply  his  place,  was  shortly  after  put  | 
o  death ;  the  reason  (says  he)  why  he  no  longer  | 
jontinued  his  history  of  the  apostles'  acts,  which  ! 
'urely   he   would  have  done,  had  he   lived   any  j 


Acls  xvi.  10. 


considerable  time  after  St.  Paul's  departure. 
His  body  afterwards,  by  the  command  of  Con- 
stantine,  or  his  son  Constantius,  was  solemnly  re- 
moved to  Constantinople,  and  buried  in  the  great 
church  built  to  the  memory  of  the  apostles. 

4.  Two  books  he  wrote  for  the  use  of  the 
church,  his  gospel,  and  the  history  of  the  apostles' 
acts,  both  dedicated  to  Theophilus,  wliich  many 
of  the  ancients  suppose  to  be  but  a  feigned  name, 
denoting  no  more  than  a  lover  of  God,  a  title  com- 
mon to  every  Christian  ;  while  others  with  better 
reason  conclude  it  the  proper  name  of  a  particular 
person,  especially  since  the  style  of  most  excellent 
IS  attributed  to  him,  the  usual  title  and  form  of  ad- 
dress in  those  times  to  princes  and  great  men. 
Theophylact  styles  him  "  a  man  of  consular  dig- 
nity, and  probably  a  prince  ;"  the  autlior  of  the 
Recognitions  makes  him  a  nobleman  of  Antioch, 
converted  by  St.  Peter,  and  who,  upon  his  conver- 
sion, gave  his  house  to  the  church  for  tlie  place  of 
their  public  and  solemn  meetings.  We  may  pro- 
bably suppose  him  to  have  been  some  magistrate, 
whom  St.  Luke  had  converted  and  baptized,  to 
whom  he  now  dedicated  these  books,  not  only 
as  a  testimony  of  honorable  respect,  but  as  a 
means  of  giving  him  further  certainty  and  assu- 
rance of  those  things  wherein  he  had  been  in- 
structed by  him.  For  his  gospel,  St.  Jerome  sup- 
poses  it  to  have  been  written  in  Achaia,  during 
his  travels  with  St.  Paul  in  those  parts,  whose 
help  he  is  generally  said  to  have  made  use  of  in 
the  composing  of  it,  and  that  this  the  apostle  pri- 
marily intends  when  he  so  often  speaks  of  iiis 
gospel.  But  whatever  assistance  St.  Paul  might 
contribute  towards  it,  we  are  sure  the  evangelist 
himself  tells  us,  that  he  derived  his  inteUigence 
in  these  matters  from  those,  "  who  from  the  be- 
ginning had  been  eye-witnesses  and  ministers  of 
the  word."  Nor  does  it  in  the  least  detract  from 
the  authority  of  his  relations,  that  he  himself  was 
not  present  at  the  doing  of  them ;  for  if  we  con- 
sider who  they  were  from  whom  he  derived  his 
accounts  of  things,  liabuii  utique  authenticam  pa- 
ratwam,  as  Tertullian  speaks,  he  had  a  stock  both 
of  credit  and  intelligence  sufficiently  authentic  to 
proceed  upon,  delivering  nothing  in  his  whole  his- 
tory but  what  he  had  immediately  received  from 
persons  present  at,  and  concerned  in  tlie  things 
which  he  has  left  upon  record.  The  occasion  Oi 
his  writing  it  is  thought  to  have  been  partly  to 
prevent  those  false  and  fabulous  relations  which 
even  then  began  to  be  obtruded  upon  the  world, 
partly  to  supply  what  seemed  wanting  in  those  two 
evangelists  that  wrote  before  him,  and  the  addi- 
tions or  larger  explications  of  things  are  particu- 
larly enumerated  by  Irenaeus.  lie  mainly  insists 
upon  v/hat  relates  to  Christ's  priestly  office,  and 
though  recording  otiier  parts  of  the  evangelical 
story,  yet  it  ever  is  with  a  peculiar  respect  to  his 
priesthood.  Upon  which  account  the  ancients  in 
accommodating  the  four.symbolicalrepresentinents 
in  the  prophet's  vision  to  the  four  evangelists,  as- 
signed tjie  ox  or  calf  to  St.  Luke. 

5.  His  history  of  the  apostolical  acts  was  writ- 
ten no  doubt  at  Rome,  at  the  end  of  St.  I'aul's 
two  years'  imprisonment  there,  with  wliicii  he 
concludes  his  story  ;  it  contains  the  action.s  and 
sometimes  the  suiferings  of  some  principal  apos- 
tles, especially  St.  Paul ;  for,  besides  that  liis  ac 


132 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


tivity  in  the  cause  of  Christ  made  him  bear  a 
(neater  part  both  in  doing  and  suifering,  St.  Luke 
was  his  coi.'stant  attendant,  an  eye-witness  of  the 
whole  carriage  of  his  hfe,  and  privy  to  his  most 
intimate  transactions,  and  therefore  capable  of 
giving  a  more  full  and  satisfactory  account  and 
relation  of  them  ;  seeing  no  evidence  or  testimony 
in  matters  of  fact  can  be  more  rational  and  con- 
victive,  than  his  who  reports  nothing  but  what  he 
has  heard  and  seen.  Among  other  things,  he 
gives  us  a  particular  account  of  those  great  mi- 
racles which  the  apostles  did  for  the  confirmation 
of  their  doctrine.  And  this  (as  St.  Chrysostom 
informs  us)  was  the  reason  why,  in  the  primitive 
times,  the  book  of  the  Acts,  though  containing 
those  actions  of  the  apostles  that  were  done  after 
Pentecost,  was  yet  usually  read  in  the  church  be- 
fore it,  in  the  space  between  that  and  Easter,  when, 
as  at  all  other  times,  those  parts  of  the  gospel 
were  read  which  were  proper  to  the  season ;  it 
was  (says  he)  because  the  apostles'  miracles  being 
the  grand  confirmation  of  the  truth  of  Christ's 
resurrection,  and  those  miracles  recorded  in  that 
book ;  it  was  therefore  thought  most  proper  to  be 
read  next  to  the  feast  of  'he  resurrection.  In 
both  these  books  his  way  and  manner  of  writing 


is  exact  and  accurate  :  his  style  polite  and  ele- 
gant, sublime  and  lofty,  and  yet  clear  and  per- 
spicuous, flowing  with  an  easy  and  natural  grace 
and  sweetness,  admirably  accommodate  to  an 
historical  design,  all  along  expressing  himself  in 
a  vein  of  purer  Greek,  than  is  to  be  found  in  the 
other  writers  of  the  holy  story.  Indeed  being 
born  and  bred  at  Antioch,  (than  which  no  place 
more  famous  for  oratory  and  eloquence,)  he  could 
not  but  carry  away  a  great  share  of  the  native 
genius  of  that  place,  though  his  style  is  sometimes 
alloyed  with  a  touch  of  the  Syriac  and  Hebrew 
dialect.  It  was  observed  of  old,  (as  Jerome  tells 
us,)  that  his  skill  was  greater  in  Greek  than 
Hebrew,  that  therefore  he  always  makes  use  of 
the  Septuagint  translation,  and  refuses  sometimes 
to  render  words,  when  the  propriety  of  the  Greek 
tongue  will  not  bear  it.  In  short,  as  an  historian, 
he  was  faithful  in  his  relations,  elegant  in  his 
writings ;  as  a  minister,  careful  and  diligent  for 
the  good  of  souls ;  as  a  Christion,  devout  and 
pious  :  and  he  crowned  all  the  rest  with  the  lay- 
ing down  of  his  life  for  the  testimony  of  that  gos- 
pel, which  he  had  both  preached  and  published  to 
the  world. 


THE  APOSTLES  AND  THEIR  SUCCESSORS. 


ANTIOCH. 

This  I  place  first,  partly  because  it  is  generally 
acknowledged,  even  by  the  Romish  writers,  that 
a  church  was  founded  here  by  St.  Peter  some 
considerable  time  before  that  at  Rome ;  partly 
because  here  it  was  that  the  venerable  name  of 
Christians  did  first  commence.  In  which  respect 
the  fathers,  ui  the  council  at  Constantinople  un- 
der Nectarius,  in  their  synodicon  to  them  at  Rome, 
style  the  church  of  Antioch  "  The  most  ancient, 
and  truly  apostohcal ;"  and  St.  Chrysostom,  "  the 
head  of  the  whole  world."  The  succession  of 
its  bishops,  till  the  time  of  Constantine,  (which 
shall  be  the  boundary  of  this  catalogue,)  was  as 
foUowcth. 

I.  St.  Peter  the  apostle ;  who  governed  this 
church  at  least  seven  years.  Nicephorus  of  Con- 
stantinople says  eleven  years. 

II.  Gvodius,  who  sat  twenty-three  years.  In 
his  time  the  disciples  were  first  called  Christians 
at  Antioch. 

III.  Ignatius.  After  near  forty  years'  presi- 
dency over  this  church,  he  was  carried  out  of  Sy- 
ria to  Rome,  and  there  thrown  to  wild  beasts  in 
the  theatre,  ann.  Chr.  110  ;  Trajan,  11. 

IV.  Heron ;  he  was  bishop  twenty  years.  To 
him  succeeded 


V.  Cornelius,  who  kept  the  place  thirteen  years, 
dying  ann.  Chr.  142. 

VI.  Eros,  twenty-six  :  or,  as  Eusebius, twenty- 
four  years. 

VII.  Theophilus,  thirteen  years ;  a  man  of 
great  parts  and  learning ;  many  of  his  works  were 
extant  in  Eusebius's  time,  and  some  of  them  we 
still  have  at  this  day. 

VIII.  Maximinus,  thirteen  years;  he  dying, 
the  next  that  was  chosen  was 

IX.  Serapio,  twenty-five  years  :  many  of  his 
works  are  mentioned  by  Eusebius  and  St.  Jerome. 
To  him  succeeded 

X.  Asclepiades,  a  man  of  great  worth  and  emi- 
nency,  and  invincible  constancy  in  the  time  of 
persecution :  he  continued  in  this  see  nine  years. 

XI.  Philetus,  eight  years. 

XII.  Zebinus  or  Ztbennus  ;  he  sat  six  years. 

XIII.  Babylas,  thirteen  years.  After  many 
conflicts  and  sufferings  for  the  faith,  he  received 
the  crown  of  martyrdom  under  Decius,  and  com- 
manded his  chains  to  be  buried  with  him. 

XIV.  Fabius,  or  as  the  patriarch  Nicephorus 
calls  him,  Flavius,  possessed  the  chair  nine  years. 
He  was  a  little  inclining  towards  Novatianism. 

XV.  Deinetrianus :  he  sat  bishop,  says  Nice- 
phorus,  four  :  says  Eusebius,  eight  years. 

XVI.  Paulus  Samosateiius  sat  in  the   chair 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


133 


eight  years ;  when  for  his  unepiscopal  manners 
and  practices  ;  his  unsound  dogmata  and  princi- 
ples, and  especially  his  mean  and  unworthy  opi- 
nions concerning  our  Saviour  ;  he  was  condemn- 
ed and  deposed  by  a  synod  at  Antioch,  whose 
synodical  determination  is  at  large  extant  in  Eu- 
sebius. 

XVn.  Domnus  succeeded  in  the  place  of  the 
deposed.  He  was  son  to  Demetrian,  Paulus's 
predecessor  in  that  see  ;  constituted  and  ordained 
to  the  place  by  the  fathers  of  that  synod,  who 
further  gave  him  this  honorable  character,  that  he 
was  a  man  endued  with  all  episcopal  virtues  and 
ornaments.  Eusebius  makes  him  to  have  sat  six, 
Nicephorus,  but  two  years. 

XVin.  Timteus  ;  he  sat  in  the  chair  ten  years. 

XIX.  Cyrillus,  who  presided  over  that  church 
in  the  account  of  Nicephorus  fifteen,  of  Eusebius, 
twenty-four  years. 

XX.  Tyrannus  ;  he  sat  thirteen  years.  In  his 
time  began  the  tenth  persecution  under  Diocle- 
tian, which  raged  with  great  severity. 

XXI.  Vitalis,  six  years. 

XXII.  Philogonius,  five  years  ;  succeeded  by 

XXIII.  Paulinus,  or  as  Nicephorus  calls  him, 
Paulus ;  who  after  five  years  was  deposed  and 
driven  out  by  the  prevalency  of  the  Arian  faction. 

XXIV.  Eustathius,  formerly  bishop  of  Beroea  ; 
a  learned  man,  and  of  great  note  and  eminency 
in  the  council  of  Nice  ;  the  first  general  coun- 
cil summoned  by  the  great  Constantine,  after  he 
had  restored  peace  and  prosperity  to  the  church. 


ROME. 

The  foundation  of  this  church  is,  with  just  proba- 
bilities of  reason,  by  many  of  the  fathers  equally 
attributed  to  Peter  and  Paul ;  the  one,  as  apostle 
of  the  circumcision,  preaching  to  the  Jews,  while 
the  other,  probably  as  the  apostle  of  tJie  uncir- 
cumcision,  preached  to  the  Gentiles.  Its  bishops 
succeeded  in  this  order : 

I.  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  who  both  suffered 
martyrdom  under  Nero. 

II.  Linus,  the  son  of  Herculanus,  a  Tuscan  ; 
he  is  mentioned  by  St.  Paul ;  he  sat  between  ele- 
ven and  twelve  years. 

III.  Cletus,  or  Anacletus,  or  Anencletus,  sup- 
posed by  many  to  be  the  same  person  ;  (though 
others,  who  reckon  Anacletus  a  Greek,  born  at 
Athens,  make  them  distinct,  whom  yet  we  have 
left  out,  not  being  mentioned  by  Eusebius  ;)  a 
Roman,  the  son  of  iEmilianus,  sat  nine,  though 
others  say  but  two  years. 

IV.  Clemens,  a  Roman,  born  in  Mount  Cselis, 
the  son  of  Faustinus,  near  akin,  say  some,  to  the 
emperor  :  he  was  condemned  to  dig  in  the  marble 
quarries  near  the  Euxine  sea  ;  and  by  the  com- 
mand of  Trajan,  with  an  anchor  about  his  neck 
thrown  into  tlie  sea.  He  was  bishop  of  Rome 
nine  years  and  four  months. 

V.  Euaristus,  by  birth  a  Greek  ;  but  his  father 
a  Jew  of  Bethlehem.  He  is  said  to  have  been 
crowned  with  martyrdom  the  last  year  of  Trajan, 
in  the  ninth  of  his  bishopric ;  or  as  others,  the 
thirteenth. 

VI.  Alexander,  a   Roman,  though  young  in 


years,  was  grave  in  his  manners  and  conversation. 
He  sat  ten  years  and  seven  months,  and  died  a 
martyr. 

VII.  Xystus,  or  Sixtus,  a  Roman ;  he  was  mar- 
tyred in  the  tenth  year  of  his  bishopric,  and  buried 
in  the  Vatican. 

VIII.  Telesphorus,  a  Greek,  succeeded  ;  Justin 
the  martyr  flourished  in  his  time.  He  died  a 
martyr,  having  sat  eleven  years  and  three  months  ; 
ten  years  eight  months  say  others ;  and  lies  bu- 
ried near  St.  Peter,  in  the  Vatican. 

IX.  Hyginus,  the  son  of  an  Athenian  philoso- 
pher,  was  advanced  to  the  chair  under  Antonius 
Pius  :  he  sat  four  years  ;  Eusebius  says  eight. 

X.  Pius,  an  Italian,  born  at  Aquileia  ;  he  died, 
having  been  bishop  eleven  years  and  four  months ; 
according  to  Eusebius,  fifteen  years. 

XI.  Anicetus,  born  in  Syria ;  he  is  said,  after 
nine,  or  as  others,  eleven  years,  to  have  suffered 
martyrdom  ;  and  was  buried  in  the  Via  Appia,  in 
the  cemetery  of  CaUistus.  In  his  time  Polycarp 
came  to  Rome. 

Xri.  Soter,  or  as  Nicephorus  calls  him,  Soter- 
ichus,  was  a  Campanian,  the  son  of  Concordius. 
There  was  an  intercourse  of  letters  between 
him  and  Dionysius,  bishop  of  Corinth.  He  died 
after  he  had  sat  nine,  or  as  Eusebius  reckons,  se- 
ven years. 

XIII.  Eleutherius,  born  at  Nicopolis  in  Greece. 
To  him  Lucius,  king  of  Britain,  sent  a  letter  and 
an  embassy.  He  sat  fifteen  years  ;  died  ann. 
Ciir.  186  ;  and  lies  buried  in  the  Vatican. 

XIV.  Victor,  an  African,  the  son  of  Felix,  a 
man  of  a  furious  and  intemperate  spirit,  as  ap- 
peared in  his  passionate  proceedings  in  the  con- 
troversy about  the  observation  of  Easter.  He 
was  bishop  ten  years  :  Onuphrius  assigns  him 
twelve  years  and  one  month. 

XV.  Zephyrinus,  a  Roman,  succeeded,  and 
possessed  the  chair  eight,  but  as  others,  eighteen 
years  ;  twenty,  says  Onuphrius.  A  pious  and 
learned  man,  but  a  little  warping  towards  the  er- 
rors of  Montanus. 

XVI.  CaUistus,  or  Calixtus,  the  son  of  Domi- 
tius,  a  Roman  ;  a  prudent  and  modest  man.  He 
suffered  much  in  the  persecution  under  Alexander 
Severus,  under  whom  he  became  a  martyr,  being 
thrown  into  a  well  by  the  procurement  of  Ulpian 
the  great  lawyer,  but  severe  enemy  of  Christians. 
He  "sat  six  years,  or  five,  as  others,  and  one 
month  ;  and  "though  he  made  a  cemetery,  called 
after  liis  own  name,  yet  was  he  buried  in  that  of 
Calepodius,  in  the  Appian  Way. 

XVII.  Urbanus,  the  son  of  Pontianus,  a  Ro- 
man :  after  four,  or  as  some,  six  years,  he  suffered 
martyrdom  for  the  faith:  Eusebius  has  five ;  St. 
Terome,  in  his  translation,  nine  years.  He  was 
buried  in  Prsetextatus's  cemetery  in  the  Appian 
Way. 

XVIII.  Pontianus,  the  son  of  Calplmrnius,  a 
Roman  ;  for  his  bold  reproving  the  Roman  idola- 
try he  was  banished  into  the  island  Sardinia, 
where  he  died.  He  was  bishop  about  three  or 
four,  or  as  Eusebius,  five  years. 

XIX.  Anteros,  a  Greek,  the  son  of  Romulus. 
He  died  by  that  he  had  kept  his  place  one  month ; 
though  others,  without  reason,  make  him  to  have 
lived  in  it  many  years,  and  was  buried  in  the  ce- 
metery of  CaUistus. 


134 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


XX.  Fabianus,  a  Roman  ;  he  was  unexpected- 
ly chosen  bishop,  while  several  others  being  in 
competition,  a  pigeon  suddenly  decended,  and  sat 
upon  his  head,  the  great  emblem  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  He  died  a  martyr  after  fourteen  years  ; 
buried  in  the  same  place  with  his  predecessor. 

XXL  Cornelius,  a  Roman  ;  he  opposed  and 
condemned  Novatian  :  frequent  letters  passed  be- 
tween him  and  Cyprian.  After  somewhat  more 
than  two  years  he  was  first  cruelly  whipped,  and 
then  beheaded :  buried  in  a  vault  within  the  grange 
of  Lucina,  near  the  Appian  Way. 

XXH.  Lucius,  a  Roman,  sat  two,  or  as  others, 
three  years.  Ho  suffered  martyrdom  by  the  com- 
mand of  Valerian,  and  was  buried  in  Callistus's 
cemetery. 

XXni.  Stephanus,  a  Roman,  the  son  of  Ju- 
lius. Great  contests  were  between  him  and  Cy- 
prian, about  rebaptizing  those  who  had  been  bap- 
tized by  heretics.  He  was  beheaded  after  he  had 
sat  about  two  or  three  years,  though  others  say 
seven,  and  buried  with  his  predecessor. 

XXIV.  Xystus,  a  Greek,  formerly  a  philoso- 
pher of  Athens.  After  one,  or  as  others  compute, 
two  years  and  ten  months,  he  suffered  martyr- 
dom.    Eusebius  reckons  it  eight  years. 

XXV.  Dionysius,  of  a  monk  made  bishop,  \oyioi 
Ts  Ktu  ^avfiaatoi,  in  tiio  judgment  of  Dionysius,  bi- 
shop of  Alexandria,  a  truly  learned  and  admirable 
person.  The  time  of  his  presidency  is  uncertain- 
ly assigned — six,  nine,  ten,  eleven  years.  Euse- 
bius extends  it  to  twelve  years. 

XXVI.  Felix,  a  Roman.  In  his  time  arose  the 
ManichsBan  heresy.  He  suffered  about  the  fourth 
or  fifth  year  of  his  episcopacy  ;  and  lies  buried  in 
the  Aurelian  Way,  in  a  cemetery  of  his  own,  two 
miles  from  Rome. 

XXVII-  Eutychianus,  a  Tuscan  ;  a  man  e.x- 
ceedingly  careful  of  the  burial  of  martyrs,  after 
one  year's  space  was  hunself  crowned  with  mar- 
tyrdom. Eusebius  allows  him  but  eight  months  ; 
Onuphrius,  eight  years  and  six  months. 

XXVIII.  Caius,  or  as  Eusebius  calls  him,  Gai- 
anus,  a  Dalmatian,  kinsman  to  the  emperor  Dio- 
cletian, and  in  the  persecution  under  him  became 
a  martyr.  He  sat  eleven  years,  some  say  longer ; 
Eusebius,  fifteen  years.  He  was  beheaded,  and 
buried  in  Callistus's  cemetery. 

XXIX.  Marcellinus,  a  Roman.  Through  fear 
of  torment  he  did  sacrifice  to  the  gods ;  but  reco- 
vering himself,  died  a  martyr,  after  ho  had  sat 
eight  or  nine  years.  He  was  beheaded,  and  bu- 
ried in  the  cemetery  of  Priscilla,  in  the  Salarian 
Way.     To  him  succeeded 

XXX.  Marcehus,  a  Roman.  He  was  con- 
denmed  by  Maxentius,  the  tyrant,  to  keep  beasts 
in  a  stable,  which  yet  he  performed  with  his  pray- 
ers and  exercises  of  devotion.  He  died  after  five 
years  and  six  months,  and  was  buried  in  the  ce- 
metery of  Priscilla. 

XXXI.  Eusebius,  a  Greek  ;  the  son  of  a  phy- 
sician. He  suffered  much  under  the  tyranny  of 
Maxentius.  He  sat  six  years  say  some,  four  say 
others,  though  Eusebius  allows  liim  but  seven 
months  ;  Onuphrius,  one  year  and  seven  months. 
He  was  buried  in  the  Appian  Way,  near  Callis- 
tus's cemetery. 

XXXII.  Miltiades,  an  African.  He  might  be 
a  confessor  under  Maxentius ;  but  could  not  be  a 


martyr  under  Maximinus,  as  some  report  him. 
He  sat  three  or  four,  though  others  assign  him  but 
two  years ;  and  was  bimed  in  the  cemetery  of 
Callistus. 

XXXIII.  Silvester,  a  Roman.  He  was  elect- 
ed into  the  place,  anno.  Chr.  314,  fetched  from 
the  mountain  Soracte,  whither  he  had  fled  for  fear 
of  persecution.  He  was  highly  in  favor  with 
Constantino  the  Great.  He  .sat  twenty-three, 
Nicephorus  says  twenty-eight  years. 


.1  E  R  U  S  A  L  E  M. 

The  church  of  Jerusalem  may,  in  some  sense,  be 
said  to  have  been  founded  by  our  Lord  himself,  as 
it  was  for  some  time  cultivated  and  improved  by 
the  ministry  of  the  whole  coEege  of  apostles. 
The  bishops  of  it  were  as  followeth. 

I.  St.  James  the  Less,  the  brother  of  our  Lord; 
by  him,  say  some,  immediately  constituted  bishop ; 
but  as  others,  more  probably,  by  the  apostles.  He 
was  thrown  off  the  temple,  and  knocked  on  the 
head  with  a  fuller's  club. 

II.  Symeon,  the  son  of  Cleopas,  brother  to  Jo- 
seph, our  liord's  reputed  fatJier.  He  sat  in  this 
chair  twenty-three  years  ;  and  suffered  martyrdom 
in  the  reign  of  Trajan,  in  the  one  hundred  and 
twentieth  year  of  his  age. 

III.  Justus  succeeded  in  his  room,  and  sat  six 
years. 

IV.  Zacheus,  or  as  Nicephorus  the  patriarch 
calls  him,  Zacharias,  four  years. 

V.  Tobias  ;  to  him,  after  four  years,  succeeded 

VI.  Benjamin,  who  sat  two  years. 

VII.  John,  who  continued  tiie  same  space. 

VIII.  Matthias  or  Matthteus,  two  years. 

IX.  Philippus,  one  year.     Next  came 

X.  Seneca,  who  sat  four  years. 

XI.  Justus,  four  years. 

Xri.  Levi,  or  Lebes,  two  years. 

XIII.  Ephrem  or  Ephres;  or  as  Epiphanius 
styles  him,  Vaphres,  two  years. 

XIV.  Joseph,  two  years. 

XV.  Judas,  two  years.  Most  of  these  bishops 
we  may  observe  to  have  but  a  short  time,  follow- 
ing one  another  with  a  very  quick  succession. 
Tills  doubtless  was  in  a  great  measure  owing  to 
the  turbulent  and  unquiet  humor  of  the  Jewish 
nation,  frequently  rebelling  against  the  Roman 
powers,  whereby  they  provoked  them  to  fall  heavy 
upon  them,  and  cut  off  all  that  came  in  their  way, 
making  no  distinction  between  Jews  and  Chris- 
tians ;  as  indeed  they  were  all  Jews,  though  dif- 
fering in  the  rites  of  their  religion.  For  hitherto 
the  bisliops  of  Jerusalem  had  successively  been  of 
the  circumcision  ;  the  church  there  having  been 
entirely  made  up  of  Jewisli  converts.  But  Jeru- 
salem being  now  utterly  laid  waste,  and  the  Jews 
dispersed  into  all  other  countries,  the  Gentiles 
were  admitted  not  only  into  the  body  of  that  church, 
but  even  into  the  episcopal  chair.  The  first 
whereof  was 

XVI.  Marcus,  who  sat  eight  years. 
XV  (I.   Cassianus,  eight  years. 

XVIII.  Publius,  five  years. 

XIX.  Maximus,  four  years. 

XX.  Julianup,  two  years. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


135 


XXI.  C?.ianus,  three  years. 

XXII.  Symmachus,  two  years. 

XXIII.  Caius,  three  years. 

XXIV.  Julianus,  four  years. 

XXV.  EHas,  two  years.  I  find  not  this  bishop 
mentioned  by  Eusebius ;  but  he  is  recorded  by 
Nicephorus  of  Constantinople. 

XXVI.  Capito,  four  years. 

XXVII.  Maximus,  four  years. 

XXVIII.  Antoninus,  five  years. 

XXIX.  Valens,  three  years. 
XXX   Pulichianus,  two  years. 

XXXI.  Narcissus,  four  years.  He  was  a  man 
of  eminent  piety,  famous  for  the  great  miracles 
which  he  wrought ;  but  not  being  able  to  bear  the 
aspersions  which  some  \mjustly  cast  upon  liim, 
(though  God  signally  and  miraculously  vindicated 
his  innocency,)  he  left  his  church,  and  retired  into 
deserts  and  solitudes.    In  his  absence  was  chosen 

XXXII.  Dius,  who  sat  eight  years.     After  him 

XXXIII.  Germanio,  four  years. 

XXXIV.  Gordius,  five  years.  In  his  time  Nar- 
cissus, as  one  from  the  dead,  returned  from  his  soli- 
tudes, and  was  importuned  by  the  people  again  to 
take  the  government  of  the  church  upon  him :  being 
highly  reverenced  by  them,  both  for  his  strict  and 
philosophical  course  of  life,  and  the  signal  vengeance 
which  God  took  of  his  accusers ;  and  in  this  second 
administration  he  continued  ten  years,  sufiering 
martyrdom  when  ho  was  near  one  hundred  and 
twenty  years  old.  To  relieve  the  infirmities  of  his 
great  age,  they  took  in,  to  be  his  colleague 

XXXV.  Alexander,  formerly  bishop  in  Capado- 
cia,  who  at  that  time  had,  out  of  devotion,  taken  a 
pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem  ;  the  choice  being  extra- 
ordinarily designed  by  a  particular  revelation  from 
heaven.  He  was  an  eminent  confessor ;  and  after 
having  sat  fifteen  years,  died  in  prison,  under  the 
Decian  persecution.  By  him  Origen  was  ordain- 
ed presbyter.  He  was  a  great  patron  of  learning 
as  well  as  religion  ;  a  studious  preserver  of  the 
records  of  the  church.  He  erected  a  library  at 
Jerusalem,  which  he  especially  furnished  with  the 
writings  and  epistles  of  ecclesiastical  persons  ;  and 
out  of  this  treasury  it  was  that  Eusebius  borrowed 
a  great  part  of  his  materials  for  the  composing  of 
his  history. 

XXXVI.  Mazabanes,  nine  years. 

XXXVII.  Hymenaeus,  twenty-three  years. 

XXXVIII.  Zabdas,  ten  years. 

XXXIX.  Hermon,  nine  years.  He  was,  as 
Eusebius  tells  us,  the  last  bishop  of  this  see  before 
that  fatal  persecution  that  raged  even  in  his  time. 

XL.  Macarius,  ordained  ann.  Chr.  315.  He 
was  present  in  the  great  Nicene  council.  He  sat, 
says  Nicephorus  of  Constantinople,  twenty  years ; 
but  St.  Jerome  allows  him  a  much  longer  time. 


BYZANTIUM, 


AFTERWAEDS   CALLED   CONSTANTINOPLE. 

That  this  church  was  first  founded  by  St.  An- 
drew, we  have  showed  in  his  life.  The  succession 
of  its  bishops  was  as  followeth. 

99  23 


.  St.  Andrew  the  apostle.  He  was  crucified 
at  Patrse,  in  Achaia. 

II.  Stachys,  whom  St.  Paul  calls  his  beloved 
Stachys,  ordained  bishop  by  St.  Andrew.  He  sat 
sixteen  years. 

III.  Onesimus,  fourteen  years. 

IV.  Polycarpus,  seventeen  years. 

V.  Plutarchus,  sixteen  years. 

VI.  Sedecio,  nine  years. 

VII.  Diogenes,  fifteen  years.  Of  the  last  three 
no  mention,  is  made  in  Nicephorus  of  Constanti- 
nople ;  but  they  are  delivered  by  Nicephorus 
Callistus,  lib.  viii.  c.  6,  p.  540. 

VIII.  Eleutherius,  seven  years. 

IX.  FelLx,  five  years. 

X.  Polycarpus,  seventeen  years. 

XI.  Athenodorus,  four  years.  He  erected  a 
church  called  Elea,  afterwards  much  beautified 
and  enlarged  by  Constantino  the  Great. 

XII.  Euzoius,  sixteen  years  ;  though  Nicepho- 
rus Callistus  allows  but  sLx  years. 

XIII.  Laurentius,  eleven  years  and  six  months. 

XIV.  Alypius,  thirteen  years. 

XV.  Pertinax,  a  man  of  consular  dignity.  He 
built  another  church  near  the  sea-side,  which  he 
called  Peace.  He  sat  nineteen  years,  which 
Nicephorus  Callistus  reduces  to  nine  years. 

XVI.  Olympianus,  eleven  years. 

XVII.  Marcus,  thirteen  years. 

XVIII.  Cyriacus  or  Cyrilliannus,  sixteen  years. 

XIX.  Constantinus,  seven  years.  In  the  first 
year  of  his  bishopric  he  built  a  church  in  the  north 
part  of  the  city,  which  he  dedicated  to  the  honor 
of  Euphemia  the  martyr,  who  had  suffered  in  that 
place.  In  this  oratory  he  spent  the  remainder  of 
his  life,  leaving  his  episcopal  chair  to 

XX.  Titus,  who  sat  thirty-five  years  and  six 
months ;  though  Nicephorus  Callistus  makes  it 
thirty-seven  years.     After  him  came 

XXI.  Dometius,  brother  (as  they  tell  us)  to  the 
emperor  Probus  ;  he  was  bishop  twenty-one  years 
six  months. 

XXII.  Probus  succeeded  his  father  Dometius, 
and  sat  twelve  years  ;  as  after  him 

XXIII.  Metrophanes,  his  brother,  who  govern- 
ed that  church  ten  years.  And  in  his  time  it 
was  that  Constantine  translated  the  imperial  court 
hither,  enlarged  and  adorned  it,  called  it  after  his 
own  name,  and  made  it  the  seat  of  the  empire. 

XXIV.  Alexander  succeeded  ;  a  man  of  great 
piety  and  integrity,  zealous  and  constant  in  main- 
taining the  truth  against  the  blasphemies  of  Arius. 
He  sat  twenty-three  years. 


ALEXANDRIA. 

The  foundations  of  this  church  were  laid,  and  a 
great  part  of  its  superstructure  raised  by  St.  Mark ; 
who  though  not  strictly  and  properly  an  apostle, 
yet  being  an  apostle  at  large,  and  immediately 
commissioned  by  St.  Peter,  it  justly  obtained  the 
honor  of  an  apostolical  church.  Its  bishops  and 
governors  are  thus  recorded  : 

I.  St.  Mark  the  evangelist,  of  whose  travels 
and  martyrdom  we  have  spoken  in  his  life.  Nice- 
phorus of  Constantinople  makes  him  sit  two  years. 


136 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLES. 


n.  Anianus,  charactered  by  Eusebius,  "A  man 
beloved  of  God,  and  admirable  in  all  things."  He 
ruled  in  that  throne  twenty-two  years. 

HL  Avilius,  twelve  years ;  or  as  Eusebius, 
thirteen  years. 

IV.  Cardo,  who  succeeded  about  the  first  year 
of  Trajan  :  he  sat  ten  years  ;  according  to  Euse- 
bius, eleven  years. 

V.  Primus,  twelve  years. 

VT.  Justus  or  Justinus,  ten  years. 

VII.  Eumenes,  ten  years  ;  or  as  Eusebius, 
thirteen  years :  St.  Jerome,  in  his  translation, 
calls  him  Hymenseus, 

VIII.  Marcus  or  Marcianus,  thirteen  years  ;  or 
as  Eusebius,  ten  years. 

IX.  Celadion,  ten  years  ;  but  in  Eusebius's 
computation,  fourteen  years. 

X.  Agrippinus,  fourteen  years ;  according  to 
Eusebius,  twelve  years. 

XL  Julianus,  fifteen  years ;  though  Eusebius 
allows  but  ten  years. 

XII.  Demetrius  twenty-one  years ;  but  Euse- 
bius more  truly  makes  him  to  have  governed  that 
church  no  less  than  forty-three  years.  He  was  a 
man  of  great  zeal  and  piety,  and  underwent  many 
troubles  in  the  persecution  at  Alexandria.  He 
was  at  first  a  great  friend  to  Origen,  but  after- 
wards became  his  enemy,  laying  some  irregulari- 
ties to  his  charge  ;  partly  out  of  emulation  at  the 
great  reputation  which  Origen  had  gained  in  the 
world  ;  partly  in  that  Origen  had  suffered  himself 
to  be  ordained  presbyter  by  two  other  bishops, 
Alexander,  bishop  of  Jerusalem,  and  Theoctistus 
of  Ceesarea. 

XIII.  Heraclas,  a  man  of  a  philosophical  genius 
and  way  of  life.  He  was  educated  under  the  in- 
stitution of  Origen,  and  by  him  taken  to  be  his 
assistant  in  the  schools  of  his  catechumens  ;  the 
whole  government  whereof  he  afterwards  resigned 
to  him  ;  and  upon  the  death  of  Demetrius  he  was 
advanced  to  the  government  of  that  church  ;  the 
care  whereof  he  took  for  sixteen  years  ;  though 
Wicephorus  of  Constantinople,  by  a  mistake,  I 


suppose,  for  hiG  predecessor,  makes  it  forty-three 
years. 

XIV.  Dionysius,  seventeen  years.  He  was  one 
of  the  most  eminent  bishops  of  his  time  :  he  was 
one  of  Origen's  scholars,  then  preferred  first  mas- 
ter of  the  catechetical  school  at  Alexandria,  and 
afterwards  bishop  of  that  see.  In  the  persecution 
under  Decius  he  was  banished  first  to  Taposiris, 
a  little  town  between  Alexandria  and  Canopus  ; 
then  to  Cephro,  and  other  places  in  the  deserts  oif 
Libya.  But  a  large  account  of  his  own  and  other 
sufferings,  with  many  other  transactions  of  those 
times,  we  have  out  of  his  own  letters,  yet  extant 
in  Eusebius.  He  died  in  the  twelfth  year  of  the 
emperor  Gallienus. 

XV.  Maximus.  Of  a  presbyter  he  was  made 
bishop  of  Alexandria.  He  sat  in  that  chair  eigh- 
teen years  according  to  Eusebius's  computation, 
though  Nicephorus  of  Constantinople  assigns  but 
eight  years. 

XVI.  Theonas,  seventeen  years  ;  or,  according 
to  St.  Jerome's  version  of  Eusebius,  nineteen 
years.     To  him  succeeded, 

XVII.  Petrus,  twelve  years.  He  began  his 
office  three  years  before  the  last  persecution.  A 
man  of  infinite  strictness  and  accuracy,  and  of  in 
defatigable  industry  for  the  good  of  the  church 
He  suflTered  in  the  ninth  year  of  the  persecution, 
with  the  loss  of  liis  head,  gaining  the  crown  of 
martyrdom  :  after  whose  death  came  in  the  pros- 
perous and  happy  days  of  the  church  ;  Constan- 
tine  the  Great  turning  the  black  and  dismal  scene 
of  things  into  a  state  of  calmness  and  serenity. 

XVIII.  Achillas,  nine  years  ;  though  Nicepho- 
rus of  Constantinople  allows  him  but  one  year. — 
By  him,  Arius,  upon  his  submission,  was  ordained 
presbyter. 

XIX.  Alexander,  twenty-three  years.  Under 
him  Arius  began  more  opeiJy  to  broach  his  heresy 
at  Alexandria,  who  was  thereupon  excommuni- 
cated and  thrust  out  by  Alexander,  and  shortly 
after  condemned  by  the  Fathers  of  the  council  of 
Nice. 


LIVES 

OF 

ST.  CLEMENS.  ST.  IGNATIUS,  AND  ST.  POLYCARP. 


ST.    CLEMENS. 

[The  learned  author  of  the  "  Lives  of  the  Apos- 
tles" having  completed  his  design  in  respect  to 
the  history  of  those  chosen  vessels  of  divine  grace, 
found  it  expedient  to  enlarge  his  plan,  and  to  write 
the  memoirs  of  the  other  holy  men  who  labored 
in  the  same  remarkable  season  of  heavenly  dis- 
pensations. These  later  productions  of  his  pen 
display  the  same  erudition,  the  same  good  sense 
and  candor  as  the  "  Lives  of  the  Apostles ;"  and 
the  most  accomplished  scholar  in  ecclesiastical 
history  may  view,  with  profound  interest  and  re- 
spect, the  admirable  zeal  which  they  exhibit  in 
the  cause  of  truth.  We  have  selected  from  the 
"  Apostolici,"  the  memoirs  of  the  three  Fathers 
whose  names  are  most  familiar  to  the  general 
reader.  They  were  men  on  whom  the  Spirit  of 
God  rested  in  the  power  and  glory  of  holiness ; 
they  show  in  their  whole  conduct,  what  manner 
of  persons  they  ought  to  be  who  should  sit  in  the 
seats  of  the  apostles ;  Eind  by  this,  their  example, 
we  learn,  how  convincing  were  the  evidences  of 
the  gospel,  when  they  might  best  be  examined,  to 
the  purest  and  most  elevated  minds.] — Ed. 


It  makes  not  a  little  for  the  honor  of  this  venera- 
ble apostolical  man,  (for  of  him  all  antiquity  un- 
derstands it,)  that  he  was  "fellow-laborer"  with 
St.  Paul,  and  one  of  those  "  whose  names  were 
written  in  the  book  of  life."  He  was  born  at 
Rome,  upon  Mount  CoeUus,  as,  besides  others,  the 
Pontifical,  under  the  name  of  Damasus,  informs 
us.  His  father's  name  was  Faustinus,  but  who 
he  was,  and  what  his  profession  and  course  of  life, 
is  not  recorded.  Indeed,  in  the  book  of  the  Re- 
cognitions and  the  ra  eXr;f<£vria  (mentioned  by  the 
ancients  and  lately  published)  we  have  more  par- 
ticular accounts  concerning  him ;  books  which 
however  falsely  attributed  to  St.  Clemens,  and 
liable  in  some  cases  to  just  exception,  yet  being 
of  great  antiquity  in  the  church,  written  not  long 
after  the  apostolic  age,  (as  we  shall  show  here- 
after,) we  shall  thence  derive  some  few  notices  to 
our  purpose,  though  we  cannot  absolutely  engage 
for  the  certainty  of  them.  There  we  find  St. 
Clemens  brought  in,  giving  this  account  of  him- 
self. 

2.  He  was  descended  of  a  noble  race,  sprung 
from  the  family  of  the  Caesars,  his  father  Fausti- 
nianias,  or  Faustus,  being  near  akin  to  the  em- 
peror, (I  suppose  Tiberius,)  and  educated  together 
with  him,  and  by  his  procurement  matched  with 


Mattidia,  a  woman  of  prime  family  in  Rome.  He 
was  the  youngest  of  three  sons,  his  two  elder 
brothers  being  Faustinus  and  Faustus,  who  after 
changed  their  names  for  Nicetas  and  Aquila.  His 
mother,  a  woman  it  seems  of  exquisite  beauty, 
was  by  her  husband's  own  brother  strongly  soli- 
cited to  unchaste  embraces.  To  avoid  whose 
troublesome  importunities,  and  yet  loth  to  reveal 
it  to  her  husband,  lest  it  should  break  out  to  the 
disturbance  and  dishonor  of  their  family,  she 
found  out  this  expedient :  she  pretended  to  her 
husband  that  she  was  warned  in  a  dream,  to- 
gether with  her  two  eldest  sons  to  depart  for  some 
time  from  Rome.  He  accordingly  sent  them  to 
reside  at  Athens,  for  the  greater  conveniency  of 
their  education.  But  hearing  nothing  of  them, 
though  he  sent  messengers  on  purpose  every 
year,  he  resolved  at  last  to  go  himself  in  pursuit 
of  them  ;  which  he  did,  leaving  his  yoangest  son, 
then  twelve  years  of  age,  at  home,  under  the 
care  of  tutors  and  guardians.  St.  Clemens  grew 
up  in  all  manly  studies,  and  virtuous  actions,  till 
falling  under  some  great  dissatisfactions  of  mind 
concerning  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  the  state 
of  the  other  life,  he  appUed  himself  to  search  more 
narrowly  into  the  nature  and  the  truth  of  things. 
After  having  baffled  all  his  own  notions,  he  be- 
took himself  to  the  schools  of  the  philosophers, 
where  he  met  with  nothing  but  fierce  con- 
tentions, endless  disputes,  sophistical  and  uncer- 
tain arts  of  reasoning  ;  thence  he  resolved  to  con- 
sult the  Egyptian  hierophantse,  and  to  see  if  he 
could  meet  with  any  who  by  arts  of  magic  was 
able  to  fetch  back  one  of  those  who  were  depart- 
ed to  the  invisible  world,  the  very  sight  of  whom 
might  satisfy  his  curious  inquiries  about  this  mat- 
ter. While  he  was  under  this  suspense,  he  heard 
of  the  Son  of  God's  appearing  in  the  world,  and 
the  excellent  doctrine  he  had  published  in  Judsea, 
wherein  he  was  further  instructed  by  the  ministry 
of  St.  Barnabas,  who  came  to  Rome.  Him  he 
followed  first  to  Alexandria,  and  thence,  after  a 
little  time  to  Judaea.  Arriving  at  Caesarea  he  met 
St.  Peter,  by  whom  he  was  instructed  and  bap- 
tized, whose  companion  and  disciple  he  continued 
for  a  great  part  of  his  hfe. 

3.  This  is  the  sum  of  what  I  thought  good  to 
borrow  from  those  ancient  writings.  As  for  his 
relations,  what  various  misadventures  his  father 
and  mother,  and  his  two  brothers  severally  met 
witli,  by  what  strange  accidents  they  all  after- 
wards met  together,  were  converted  and  baptized 
into  the  Christian  faith,  I  omit,  partly  as  less  pro- 
per  to  my  purpose,  partly  because  it  looks  more 
hke  a  dra'matic  scene  of  fancy,  tlian  a  true  and 
real  history.  As  to  that  part  of  the  account  of 
his  being  related  to  the  imperial  family,  though  it 


138 


LIVES    OF   THE    APOSTLE! 


be  more  than  once  and  again  confidently  asserted 
by  Nicephorus,  (who  transcribes  a  good  part  of 
the  etory,)  and  by  others  before  him,  yet  I  cannot 
but  behold  it  as  an  evident  mistake,  arising  from 
no  other  fountain  than  the  story  of  Flavins  Cle- 
mens, the  consul,  who  was  cousin-german  to  the 
emperor  Domitian,  and  his  wife  Flavia  Domitilla, 
near  akin  also  to  the  emperor,  concerning  whose 
conversion  to,  and  martyrdom  for,  the  faith  of 
Christ,  we  have  elsewhere  given  an  account  from 
the  writers  of  those  times.  Probable  it  is,  that  St. 
Clemens,  for  the  main,  attended  St.  Peter's  mo- 
tions, and  came  with  him  to  Rome,  where  he  had 
at  last  the  government  of  that  church  committed 
to  him.  Dorotheus  tells  us,  that  he  was  the  first 
of  the  Gentiles  that  embraced  the  Christian  faith, 
and  that  he  was  first  made  bisliop  of  Sardica,  a 
city  in  Thrace,  afterwards  called  Triaditza,  and 
then  of  Rome.  But  herein  I  think  he  stands 
alone  :  I  am  sure  he  has  none  of  the  ancients  to 

join  with  him ;  unless  he  understands  it  of  another  ....    ,  t      ■  i.  a 

Clemens,  whom  the  Chronicon  AJexandrinum  also  dent  over  the  church  of  Jewish  converts  :  and 
makes  one  of  the  seventy  disciples,  but  withal  I  thus  things  remained  till  the  death  of  Cletus, 
seems  to  confound  with  ours.     That  he  was  bishop    when  the  difference  between  Jew  and  Gentile 


settled  foundation  of  a  Gentile  church  at  Rome  ; 
the  further  care  and  presidency  whereof  St.  Paul 
might  devolve  upon  Linus,  (whom  the  interpolated 
Ignatius  makes  his  deacon  or  minister,)  as  St. 
Peter,  having  established  a  church  of  Jewish  con- 
verts, might  turn  it  over  to  St.  Clemens ;  of 
whom  Tertullian  expressly  says  that  Peter  or- 
dained him  bishop  of  Rome.  Accordingly,  the 
compiler  of  the  Apostolic  Constitutions,  makes 
Linus  to  be  ordained  bishop  of  Rome  by  St.  Paul, 
and  Clemens,  by  St.  Peter.  He  says,  mdeed, 
that  Linus  was  the  first ;  and  so  he  might  very 
well  be,  seeing  St.  Paul  (whatever  the  modern 
writers  of  that  church  say  to  the  contrary)  was 
some  considerable  time  at  Rome,  before  St.  Peter 
came  hither.  Linus  dying,  was  probably  suc- 
ceeded by  Cletus  or  Anacletus  (for  the  Greeks, 
and  doubtless  most  truly,  generally  make  him  the 
same  person)  in  his  distinct  capacity.  At  which 
time  Clemens,  whom  St.  Peter  had  ordained  to 
be    his    successor,    continued   to  act    as    presi- 


of  Rome,  there  is  an  unanimous  and  unquestiona- 
ble agreement  of  all  ancient  wnters,  though  they 
strangely  vary  about  the  place  and  order  of  his 
coming  to  it.  The  writers  of  the  Roman  church, 
how  great  words  soever  they  speak  of  the  con- 
stant and  uninterrupted  succession  of  St.  Peter's 
chair,  are  yet  involved  in  an  inextricable  labyrinth 
about  the  succession  of  the  four  first  bishops  of 
that  see,  scarce  two  of  them  of  any  note  bringing 
in  the  same  account.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  ac- 
commodate the  difference  between  the  several 
schemes  that  are  given  in,  but  only  propose  what 
I  conceive  most  likely  and  probable. 

4.  Evident  it  is  both  from  Irenseus  and  Epipha- 
nius,  as  also  before  them  from  Caius,  an  ancient 
writer,  and  from  Dionysius,  bishop  of  Corinth,  that 
Peter  and  Paul  jointly  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
Church  of  Rome,  and  are  thereby  equally  styled 
bishops  of  it ;  the  one  as  "  apostle  of  the  Gentiles," 
(as  we  may  probably  suppose,)  taking  care  of  the 
Gentile  Christians,  while  the  other  as  "the  apos- 
tle of  the  circumcision,"  applied  himself  to  the 
Jewish  converts  at  Rome.  For  we  cannot 
imagine,  that  there  being  such  chronical  and  in- 
veterate prejudices  between  the  Jews  and  Gen- 
tiles, especially  in  matters  of  religion,  they  should 
be  suddenly  laid  aside,  and  both  enter  together 
into  one  public  society.  We  know  that  in  the 
church  of  Jerusalem,  till  the  destruction  of  the 
temple,  none  were  admitted  but  Jewish  converts : 
and  so  it  might  be  at  first  at  Rome,  where  infinite 
numbers  of  Jews  then  resided  ;  they  miglit  keep 
themselves  for  some  time  in  distinct  assemblies, 
the  one  under  St.  Paul,  the  other  under  Peter. 
And  some  foundation  for  such  a  conjecture  there 
seems  to  be  even  in  the  apostolic  history,  where 
St.  Luke  tells  us,  that  St.  Paul,  at  his  first  coming 
to  Rome,  being  rejected  by  the  Jews,  turned  to 
the  Gentiles,  declaring  to  them  the  salvation  of 
God,  who  gladly  heard  and  entertained  it ;  and 
that  he  continued  tlius  preaching  the  kingdom  of 
God,  and  receiving  all  that  came  in  unto  him  for 
two  years  together.*    This  I  look  upon  as  the  first 

*  Acts  xxviii.  23-2.3,  23—31. 


being  quite  worn  off,  the  entire  presidency  and 
government  of  the  whole  church  of  Rome  might 
devolve  upon  St.  Clemens,  as  the  survivor ;  and 
from  this  period  of  time,  the  years  of  his  episco- 
pacy, according  to  the  common  computation,  are 
to  begin  their  date.  By  this  account,  not  only 
that  of  Optatus  and  the  Bucherain  catalogue  may 
be  true,  which  make  Clemens  to  follow  Linus ; 
but  also  that  of  Baronius  and  many  of  the  an- 
cients, who  make  both  Linus  aud  Cletus  to  go  be- 
fore  him,  as  we  can  allow  they  did  as  bishops  and 
pastors  of  the  Gentile  church.  As  for  a  more 
distinct  and  particular  accoimt  of  the  times,  I 
thus  compute  them : — Peter  and  Paul  suffered 
martyrdom  in  the  Neronian  persecution,  (as  we 
have  elsewhere  probably  showed,)  ann.  65.  After 
which  Linus  sat  twelve  years,  four  months,  and 
twelve  days:  Cletus  twelve  years,  one  (but  as 
Baronius,  seven)  months,  and  eleven  days,  which 
between  them  make  twenty-five  years,  and  ex- 
tend to  ann.  Chr.  90  ;  after  which,  if  we  add  the 
nine  years,  eleven  months,  and  twelve  days, 
where'in  Clemens  sat  sole  bishop  over  that  whole 
church,  they  fall  in  exactly  with  the  third  year  of 
Trajan ;  the  time  assigned  for  his  martyrdom,  by 
Eusebius,  Jerome,  Damasus,  and  many  others. 
Or  if,  with  Petavius,  Ricciolus,  and  some  others, 
we  assign  the  martyrdom  of  Peter  and  Paul,  ann. 
67,  two  years  later,  the  computation  will  still  run 
more  smooth  and  easy,  and  there  will  be  time 
enough  to  be  allowed  for  the  odd  months  and  days 
assigned  by  the  different  accounts,  and  to  make 
the  years  of  their  pontificate  complete  and  full. 
Nor  can  I  think  of  any  way,  considering  the  great 
intricacy  and  perplexity  of  the  thing,  that  can  bid 
fairer  for  an  easy  solution  of  this  matter.  For 
granting  Clemens  to  have  been  ordained  by  St. 
Peter  for  his  successor,  (as  several  of  the  ancients 
expressly  affirm,)  and  yet  withal  (what  is  evident 
enough)  that  he  died  not  till  ann.  Chr.  100,  Traj. 
3,  it  will  be  very  difficult  to  find  any  way  so  proper 
to  reconcile  it.  As  for  that  fancy  of  Epiphanius, 
that  Clemens  might  receive  imposition  of  hands 
from  Peter,  but  refused  the  actual  exercise  of  the 
episcopal   office,    so  long  as   Linus  and   Cletus 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


139 


lived  ;  he  only  proposes  it  as  a  conjecture,  founded 
merely  upon  a  mistaken  passage  of  Clemens,  in 
his  epistle  to  the  Coriathians,  and  confesses  it  is 
a  thing  wherein  he  dare  not  be  positive,  not  being 
confident  whether  it  were  so  or  no. 

5.  Might  the  ancient  epistle  written  to  St.  James, 
brother  of  our  Lord,  under  the  name  of  our  St. 
Clemens,  be  admitted  as  a  competent  evidence, 
there  we  find  not  only  that  Clemens  was  consti- 
tuted bishop  by  St.  Peter,  but  with  what  formality 
the  whole  atfair  was  transacted.  It  tells  us,  that 
the  apostle,  sensible  of  his  approaching  dissolution, 
presented  Clemens  before  the  church  as  a  fit  per- 
son to  be  his  successor ;  the  good  man,  with  all 
imaginable  modesty,  declined  the  honor  which  St. 
Peter,  in  a  long  discourse,  urged  upon  him,  and 
set  out  at  large  the  particular  duties  both  of  min- 
isters in  their  respective  orders  and  capacities,  as 
also  of  the  people ;  which  done,  he  laid  his  hands 
upon  him,  and  compelled  him  to  take  his  seat. 
How  he  administered  this  great  but  difficult  pro- 
vince, the  ecclesiastical  records  give  us  very  little 
account.  The  author  of  the  Pontifical,  that  fa- 
thers  himself  upon  Pope  Darnasus,  tells  us,  that  he 
divided  Rome  into  seven  regions,  in  each  of  which 
he  appointed  a  notary,  who  should  dUigently  in- 
quire after  all  the  martyrs  that  suffered  within  his 
division,  and  faithfully  recorded  the  acts  of  their 
martyrdom.  I  confess,  the  credit  of  this  author 
is  not  good  enough  absolutely  to  rely  upon  his  sm- 
gle  testimony  in  matters  so  remote  and  distant ; 
though  we  are  otherwise  sufficiently  assured,  tliat 
the  custom  of  notaries  taking  the  speeches,  acts, 
and  suiferings  of  the  martyrs  did  obtain  in  the 
early  ages  of  the  church.  Besides  this,  we  are 
told  by  others,  that  he  despatched  away  several 
persons  to  preach  and  propagate  the  Christian  re- 
ligion in  those  countries  whither  the  sound  of  the 
gospel  had  not  yet  arrived.  Nor  did  he  only  con- 
cern himself  to  propagate  Christianity  where  it 
wanted,  but  to  preserve  the  peace  of  those  churches 
where  it  was  already  planted.  For  an  unhappy 
schism  having  broken  out  in  the  church  of  Corinth, 
they  sent  to  Rome  to  inquire  his  advice  and  as- 
sistance in  it;  who  in  the  name  of  the  church, 
whereof  he  was  governor,  wrote  back  an  incom- 
parable  epistle  to   them,  to  compose  and  quell, 

fitapav  K  avaaiov  oraata,  as  he  calls   it,  "  that   impioUS 

and  abominable  sedition"  that  was  risen  among 
them.  And,  indeed,  there  seems  to  have  been  a 
more  intimate  and  friendly  intercourse  between 
these  two  churches  in  those  times,  than  between 
any  otiier  mentioned  in  the  writings  of  the  church. 
The  exact  time  of  writing  this  epistle  is  not  known, 
the  date  of  it  not  being  certainly  determinable  by 
any  notices  of  antiquity,  or  any  intimations  in  the 
epistle  itself.  The  conjecture  that  has  obtained 
with  some  of  most  note  and  learning  is,  that  it 
was  written  before  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem, 
while  the  temple  and  the  Levitical  ministration 
were  yet  standing.  Which  they  collect,  I  sup  I 
pose,  from  a  passage  where  he  speaks  of  them  in  | 
the  present  tense.  But  whoever  impartially  con- 1 
siders  the  place,  will  find  no  necessary  foundation 
for  sucii  an  inference,  and  that  St.  Clemens's  de- 
sign was  only  to  illustrate  his  argument,  and  to ' 
show  tiie  reasonableness  of  observing  those  par- 1 
ticular  stations  and  ministries  which  God  has  ap- 1 
pointed  us,  by  alluding  to  the  ordinances  of  the  ' 


Mosaic  institution.  To  me  it  seems  most  proba- 
ble to  have  been  written  a  little  after  the  perse- 
cution under  Domitian,  and  probably  not  long  be- 
fore Clemens's  exile.  For  excusing  the  no  sooner 
answering  the  letters  of  the  church  of  Corinth, 
he  tells  them  it  was  by  reason  of  those  calamities 
and  sad  accidents  that  had  happened  to  them. 
Now  plain  it  is,  that  no  persecution  had  been 
raised  against  the  Christians,  especially  at  Rome, 
from  the  time  of  Nero  till  Domitian.  As  for  Mr. 
Young's  conjecture  from  this  place,  that  it  was 
written  in  the  time  of  his  banishment ;  he  forgot 
to  consider  that  the  epistle  was  written  not  in 
Clemen's  own  name,  but  in  the  person  of  the 
church  of  Rome.  A  circumstance  that  renders 
the  place  incapable  of  being  particularly  applied 
to  him. 

6.  By  a  firm  patience  and  prudent  care  he  wea- 
thered out  the  stormy  and  troublesome  times  of 
Domitian,  and  the  short  but  peaceable  reign  of 
Nerva.  When,  alas  !  "  the  clouds  returned  after 
rain,"  and  began  to  thicken  into  a  blacker  storm 
in  the  time  of  Trajan,  an  excellent  prince  indeed, 
of  so  sweet  and  plausible  a  disposition,  of  so  mild 
and  inoffensive  a  conversation,  that  it  was  ever 
after  a  part  of  their  solemn  acclamation  at  the 
choice  of  a  new  elected  emperor,  Mellor  Tra- 
JANO,  "  better  than  Trajan."  But  withal  he  was 
zealous  for  his  religion,  and  upon  that  account  a 
severe  enemy  to  Christians.  Among  several  laws 
enacted  in  the  beginning  of  his  reign,  he  published 
one  (if  Baronius,  which  I  much  question,  conjec- 
ture the  time  aright ;  for  Pliny's  epistle,  upon 
which  he  seems  to  ground  it,  was  probably  writ- 
ten at  least  nine  or  ten  years  after,)  whereby  he 
forbad  the  Heteriee,  the  societies  or  colleges  erect- 
ed up  and  down  the  Roman  empire,  whereat  men 
were  wont  to  meet,  and  liberally  feast,  under  a 
pretence  of  more  convenient  despatch  of  business, 
and  the  maintenance  of  mutual  love  and  friend- 
ship ;  which  yet  the  Roman  state  beheld  with  a 
jealous  eye,  as  fit  nurseries  for  treason  and  sedi- 
tion. Under  tlie  notion  of  these  unlawful  combi- 
nations, the  Christian  assemWies  were  looked  upon 
by  their  enemies  ;  for  rinding  them  confederated 
under  one  common  president,  and  constantly  meet- 
ing at  their  solemn  love-feasts,  and  especially  be- 
ino-  of  a  way  of  worship  different  from  the  religion 
of^'the  empire,  they  thought  they  might  securely 
proceed  against  them  as  illegal  societies,  and  con- 
temners of  the  imperial  constitution ;  wlierein  St. 
Clemens,  as  head  of  the  society  at  Rome,  was 
sure  to  bear  the  deepest  share.  And  indeed  it 
was  no  more  than  what  himself  had  long  exjtect- 
ed,  as  appears  from  his  letter  to  the  Corinthians  J 
where  having  spoken  of  the  torments  and  suffer- 
ings which  the  holy  apostles  had  undergone,  he 
tells  them,  that  he  looked  upon  himself  and  his 
people  as  set  to  run  the  same  race,  and  that  the 
same  fight  and  conflict  was  laid  up  for  them. 

7.  Simeon  the  metaphrast,  in  the  account  of  his 
martyrdom,  (nearly  the  same  with  that  life  of  St. 
Clement,  said  to  be  written  by  an  uncertain  aul  Iior, 
published  long  since  by  Lazius,  at  the  end  of  Ab- 
dias  Babylonius,)  sets  down  the  beginning  of  his 
troubles  to  this  effect.  St.  Clemens  having  con- 
verted Theodora,  a  noble  lady,  and  afterwards  her 
husband  Sisinnius,  a  kinsman  and  favorite  of  the 
late  emperor  Nerva,  the  gaining  so  great  a  man 


140 


LIVES    OP   THE    APOSTLES. 


quickly  drew  on  others  of  chief  note  and  quality 
to  embrace  the  faith.  So  prevalent  is  the  exam- 
ple of  religious  greatness  to  sway  men  to  piety 
and  virtue  ;  but  envy  naturally  maligns  the  good 
of  others,  and  hates  the  instrument  that  procures 
it.  This  good  success  derived  upon  him  the  par- 
ticular odium  of  Torcutianus,  a  man  of  great  pow- 
er and  authority  at  that  time  in  Rome,  who  by  the 
inferior  magistrates  of  the  city,  excited  the  people 
to  a  mutiny  against  the  holy  man,  charging  him 
with  magic  and  sorcery,  and  for  being  an  enemy 
and  blasphemer  of  the  gods,  crying  out,  either 
that  he  should  do  sacrifice  to  them,  or  expiate  his 
impiety  with  his  blood.  Mamertinus,  prsefect  of 
the  city,  a  moderate  and  prudent  man,  being  will- 
ing to  appease  the  uproar,  sent  for  St.  Clemens, 
and  mildly  persuaded  him  to  comply  ;  but  finding 
his  resolution  inflexible,  he  sent  to  acquaint  the 
emperor  with  the  case,  who  returned  this  short  re- 
script, that  he  should  either  sacrifice  to  the  gods, 
or  be  banished  to  Cherson,  a  disconsolate  city  be- 
yond the  Pontic  Sea.  Mamertinus  having  re- 
ceived the  imperial  mandate,  unwillingly  complied 
with  it,  and  gave  order  that  all  things  should  be 
made  ready  for  the  voyage  ;  and  accordingly  he 
was  transported  thither,  to  dig  in  the  marble-quar- 
ries, and  labor  in  the  mines.  Damnatio  ad  metella 
is  a  punishment  frequently  mentioned  in  the  Ro- 
man laws,  where  it  is  said  to  be  'proxima  morti 
pccna,  the  very  next  to  capital  punishments.  Indeed 
the  usage  under  it  was  very  extreme  and  rigorous : 
for  besides  the  severest  labor  and  most  intolerable 
liardship,  the  condemned  person  was  treated  with 
all  the  instances  of  inhumanity,  whipped  and 
beaten,  chained  and  fettered,  deprived  of  his 
estate,  which  was  forfeited  to  the  exchequer,  and 
himself  perpetually  degraded  into  the  condition  of 
a  slave,  and  consequently  rendered  incapable  to 
make  a  will.  And  not  this  only,  but  they  were 
further  exposed  to  the  most  public  marks  of  infamy 
and  dishonor,  their  heads  half  shaved,  their  right 
eye  bored  out,  their  left  leg  disabled,  their  fore- 
heads branded  with  an  infamous  mark,  a  piece  of 
disgrace  first  used  in  this  case  by  Caligula,  (and 
the  historian  notes  it  as  an  instance  of  his  cruel 
temper,)  and  from  him  continued  till  the  times  of 
Constantino,  who  abolished  it  by  a  law,  ann.  Ch. 
31.5,  not  to  mention  the  hunger  and  thirst,  the 
cold  and  nakedness,  the  filth  and  nastiness,  which 
they  were  forced  to  conflict  with  in  those  misera- 
ble places. 

8.  Arriving  at  the  place  of  his  uncomfortable 
exile,  he  found  vast  numbers  of  Christians,  con- 
demned  to  the  same  miserable  fate,  whose  minds 
were  not  a  little  erected  under  all  their  pressures,  at 
the  sight  of  so  good  a  man ;  by  whose  constant 
preaching,  and  the  frequent  miracles  that  he 
wrought,  their  enemies  were  converted  into  a  better 
opinion  of  them  and  their  religion;  the  inhabitants 
of  those  countries  daily  flocking  over  to  the  faith, 
so  that  in  a  little  time  Christianity  had  beaten  pa. 
ganism  out  of  the  field,  and  all  monuments  of  idol- 
atry thereabouts  were  defaced  and  overturned. 
The  fame  whereof  was  quickly  carried  to  the  em- 
peror, who  despatched  Aufidianus,  the  president, 
to  put  a  stop  to  tills  growing  f^ect ;  which  by 
methods  of  terror  and  cruelty  he  set  upon,  putting 
great  numbers  of  them  to  death.  But  finding 
how  readily  and  resolutely  they  pressed  up  to  exe- 


cution, and  that  this  day's  martyrs  did  but  prepare 
others  for  to-morrow's  torments,  he  gave  over  con- 
tending with  the  multitude,  and  resolved  to  single 
out  one  of  note  above  the  rest,  whose  exemplary 
punishment  might  strike  dread  and  terror  into  the 
rest.  To  this  purpose  St.  Clemens  is  pitched  on, 
and  all  temptations  being  in  vain  tried  upon  him,  the 
executioners  are  commanded  to  carry  him  aboard, 
and  throw  him  into  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  where 
the  Christians  might  despair  to  find  him.  This  kind 
of  death,  was  called  (carairovTur/xoy,  and  was  in  use 
not  only  among  the  Greeks,  as  appears  by  the  in- 
stance mentioned  by  Diodorus  Siculus,  but  the 
Romans,  as  we  find  in  several  malefactors  con- 
demned to  be  thrown  into  the  sea,  both  by  Tibe- 
rius and  Avidius  Cassius.  To  this  our  Lord  has 
respect,  when  in  the  case  of  wilful  scandal,  he 
pronounces  it  better  for  the  man  that  a  millstone 
were  hanged  about  his  neck,  and  he  cast  into  the 
bottom  of  the  sea.  Where,  though  St.  Jerome 
tells  us  that  this  punishment  was  usual  among  the 
ancient  Jews,  in  case  of  more  enormous  crimes, 
yet  do  I  not  remember  that  any  such  capital 
punishment  ever  prevailed  among  them.  I  shall 
not  here  relate  what  I  find  concerning  the  strange 
and  miraculous  discovery  of  St.  Clemen's  body, 
nor  the  particular  miracle  of  a  little  chUd  pre- 
served in  the  church  erected  to  him  in  the  middle 
of  the  sea,  for  a  whole  year  together,  (though 
solemnly  averred  by  Ephraem,  bishop  of  the  place,) 
as  despairing  they  would  ever  find  a  belief  wide 
enough  to  swallow  them,  nor  those  infinite  other 
miracles  said  to  be  done  there  :  it  shall  only  suf- 
fice to  mention  one ;  that  upon  the  anniversary 
solemnity  of  his  martyrdom  the  sea  retreats  on 
each  side  into  heaps,  and  leaves  a  fair  and  dry 
passage  for  three  miles  together,  to  the  martyr's 
tomb,  erected  within  a  church,  built  (as  it  must 
be  supposed,  by  angels)  within  the  sea  ;  and  the 
people's  devotions  being  ended,  the  sea  returns  to 

its  own    place  ',   n^uvTOi  m  Qtu,   KavTav^a  tov  fiaprvpa, 

says  one  of  my  authors,  God  by  this  means  doing 
honor  to  the  martyr.  I  only  add,  that  these  tra- 
ditions were  current  before  the  time  of  Gregory, 
bishop  of  Tours,  who  speaks  of  them  with  great 
reverence  and  devotion.  St.  Clemens  died,  (as 
both  Eusebius  and  St.  Jerome  witness,  for  I  heed 
not  the  account  of  the  Alexandrin  Chronicon, 
which  places  it  four  years  after  the  seventh  of 
Trajan,  though  the  consuls,  which  he  there  assigns, 
properly  belong  to  the  fourth  of  that  emperor,)  in 
the  third  year  of  Trajan,  a  little  more  than  two 
years  after  his  banishment,  after  he  had  been  sole 
bishop  of  Rome  nine  years,  six  months,  and  so 
many  days,  say  Baronius  and  others ,  though  Bu- 
cherius's  catalogue,  more  to  be  trusted,  (as  being 
composed  before  the  death  of  Pope  Liberius,  ann. 
3.54,)  nine  years,  eleven  months,  and  twelve  days. 
His  martyrdom  happened  on  the  24th  of  Novem- 
ber, according  to  Baronius  and  the  ordinary  Ro- 
man computation,  but  on  the  ninth  of  that  month, 
says  the  little  martyrology  published  by  Bucherius, 
and  which  unquestionably  was  one  of  the  true 
and  genuine  calendars  of  the  ancient  church.  He 
was  honored  at  Rome  by  a  church  erected  to  his 
memory,  yet  standing  in  St.  Jerome's  time. 

9.  The  writings  which  at  this  day  bear  the  name 
of  this  apostolic  man,  are  of  two  sorts,  genuine  or 
supposititious.     In  the  first  clas^:  is  that  famous 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


141 


epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  so  much  magnified  by 
the  ancients,  tKavw-ani  ypa(/>r7  as  Irenaeus  calls  it,  the 
most  excellent  and  absolute  writing,  ixiya\ri  tc  k 
Savjjiaata,  gays  Eusebius,  a  truly  great  and  admira- 
ble epislle,  and  very  useful  as  St  Jerome  adds, 
o^ioXoyof,  as  Photius  styles  it,  worthy  of  all  esteem 
and  veneration,  avi>>no\oyvfitvn  vapa  naat,  as  Eusebius 
assures  us,  received  by  all,  and  indeed  reverenced 
by  them  next  to  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  therefore, 
publicly  read  in  their  churches  for  some  ages, 
even  till  his  time,  and  it  may  be  a  long  time  after. 
The  style  of  it,  as  Photius  truly  observes,  is  very 
plain  and  simple,  imitating  an  ecclesiastical  and 
unaffected  way  of  writing,  and  which  breathes  the 
true  genius  and  spirit  of  the  apostolic  age.  It  was 
written  upon  occasion  of  a  great  schism  and  sedi- 
tion in  the  church  of  Corinth,  begun  by  two  or 
three  factious  persons  against  the  governors  of  the 
church,  who  envying  either  the  gifts,  or  the  autho- 
rity and  esteem  of  their  guides  and  teachers,  had 
attempted  to  depose  them,  and  had  drawn  the 
greatest  part  of  the  church  into  the  conspiracy  ; 
whom  therefore  he  endeavors,  by  soft  words  and 
hard  arguments,  to  reduce  back  to  peace  and  unity. 
His  modesty  and  humility  in  it  are  peculiarly  dis- 
cernible, not  only  that  he  wholly  writes  it  in  the 
name  of  the  church  of  Rome,  without  so  much  as 
ever  mentioning  his  own,  but  in  that  he  treats 
them  with  such  gentle  and  mild  persuasives.  No- 
thing of  sourness,  or  an  imperious  lording  it  over 
God's  heritage  to  be  seen  in  the  whole  epistle, 
had  he  known  himself  to  be  the  infalhble  judge  of 
controversies,  to  whose  sentence  the  whole  Chris, 
tian  world  was  bound  to  stand,  invested  with  a 
supreme  unaccountable  power,  from  which  there 
lay  no  appeal,  we  might  have  expected  to  have 
heard  him  argue  at  another  rate.  But  these  were 
the  encroachments  and  usurpations  of  later  ages, 
when  a  spirit  of  covetousness  and  secular  ambition 
had  stifled  the  modesty  and  simplicity  of  those  first 
and  best  ages  of  rehgion.  There  is  so  great  an 
afSnity  in  many  things,  both  as  to  words  and  mat- 
ter, between  this  and  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
as  tempted  Eusebius  and  St  Jerome  of  old,  and 
Bome  others  before  them,  to  conclude  St.  Clemens 
at  least  the  translator  of  that  epistle.  This  epistle 
to  the  Corinthians,  after  it  had  been  generally  be- 
wailed as  lost,  for  many  ages,  was  not  more  to  the 
benefit  of  the  church  in  general,  than  the  honor  of 
our  own  in  particular,  some  forty  years  since,  pub- 
lished here  in  England,  a  treasure  not  sufficiently 
to  be  valued.  Besides  this  first,  there  is  the  frag- 
ment of  a  second  epistle,  or  rather  homily,  con- 
taming  a  serious  exhortation  and  direction  to  a 
pious  hfe ;  ancient  indeed,  and  which  many  will 
persuade  us  to  be  his,  and  to  have  been  written 
many  years  before  the  former,  as  that  which  be- 
trays to  footsteps  of  troublesome  and  unquiet 
times;  but  Eusebius,  St.  Jerome,  and  Photius 
assure  us,  that  it  was  rejected,  and  never  obtain- 
ed among  the  ancients  equal  approbation  with 
the  first.  And  therefore,  though  we  do  not  pe- 
remptorily determine  against  its  being  his,  yet 
we  think  it  safer  to  acquiesce  in  the  judgment  of 
the  ancients,  than  of  some  few  late  writers  in  this 
matter. 

10.  As  for  those  writings  that  are  undoubtedly 
spurious  and  supposititious,  disowned,  as  Euse- 
bius says,  because  they  did  not  retain  the  true 


stamp  and  character  of  orthodox  apostolic  doc- 
trine ;  though  the  truth  is,  he  speaks  it  only  of 
the  Dialogues  of  Peter  and  Appion,  not  mention- 
ing the  decretal  epistles,  as  not  worth  taking  no- 
tice of.  There  are  four  extant  at  this  day,  that 
are  entitled  to  him  ;  the  Apostolical  Canons  and 
the  Constitutions,  (said  to  be  penned  by  him, 
though  dictated  by  the  apostles,)  the  Recognitions, 
and  the  Epistle  to  St.  James.  For  the  two  first, 
the  Apostolic  Canons  and  Constitutions,  I  have 
declared  my  sense  of  them  in  another  place,  to 
which  I  shall  add  nothing  here.  The  Recogni- 
tions succeed,  conveyed  to  us  under  different  titles 
by  the  ancients  ;  sometimes  styled  St.  Clemens's 
Acts,  History,  Chronicle  ;  sometimes  St.  Peter's 
Acts,  Itinerary,  Periods,  Dialogues  with  Appion, 
all  which  are  unquestionably  but  different  inscrip- 
tions (or  it  may  be  parcels)  of  the  same  book. — 
True  it  is  what  Photius  suspected,  and  Rufinus 
(who  translated  it)  expressly  teUs  us,  that  there 
were  two  several  editions  of  this  book,  differing  in 
some  things,  but  the  same  in  most.  And  it  de- 
serves to  be  considered,  whether  the  ra  kXu^cvtiq, 
mentioned  by  Nicephorus,  and  which  he  says  the 
church  received,  and  denies  to  be  those  meant  by 
Eusebius,  and  those  Clementine  Homilies  lately 
published  under  that  very  name,  be  not  that  other 
edition  of  the  Recognitions,  seeing  they  exactly 
answer  Rufinus's  character ;  differing  in  some 
things,  but  in  most  agreeing  with  them.  There 
is  yet  a  third  edition,  or  rather  abstract  out  of  all, 
styled  Clemens's  Epitome  of  the  Acts,  Travels, 
and  Preaching  of  St.  Peter,  agreeing  with  the  for- 
mer, though  keeping  more  close  to  the  homilies 
than  the  other.  This  I  guess  to  have  been  com- 
piled by  Simeon  the  raetaphrast ;  as  for  other  rea- 
sons, so  especially  because  the  appendage  added 
to  it  by  the  same  hand,  concerning  Clemens's 
martyrdom,  is  word  for  word  the  same  with  that 
of  Metaphrastes,  the  close  of  it  only  excepted, 
which  is  taken  out  of  St  Ephrsem's  homily  of  the 
miracle  done  at  his  tomb. 

11.  The  Recognitions  themselves  are  undoubt- 
edly of  very  great  antiquity,  written  about  the 
same  time,  and  by  the  same  hand  (as  Blonde, 
probably  conjectures)  with  the  Constitutions, 
about  the  year  180,  or  not  long  after.  Sure  I 
am,  they  are  cited  by  Origen  as  the  work  of  Cle- 
mens, in  his  Periods,  and  his  large  quotation  is  in 
so  many  words  extant  in  them  at  this  day.  Nay, 
before  him  we  meet  with  a  very  long  fragment  of 
Bardesanes,  the  Syrian,  (who  flourished  ann.  180,) 
concerning  fate,  word  for  word  the  same  with 
what  we  find  in  the  Recognitions ;  and  it  seems 
equally  reasonable  to  suppose  that  Bardesanes 
had  it  thence,  as  that  the  other  borrowed  it  from 
him.  Nay,  what  if  Bardesanes  himself  was  the 
author  of  these  books  ?  It  is  certain  that  he  was 
a  man  of  great  parts  and  learning,  a  man  prompt 
and  eloquent,  an  acute  and  subtle  disputant,  here- 
tically  inclined,  for  he  came  out  of  the  school  of 
Valentinus,  whose  uncouth  notions  he  had  so 
deeply  imbibed,  that  even  after  his  recantation,  he 
could  never  get  clear  from  the  dregs  of  them,  as 
Eusebius  informs  us  :  though  Epiphanius  tells  us, 
he  was  first  orthodox,  and  afterwards  fell  into  the 
errors  of  that  sect,  like  a  well-freighted  ship,  that 
having  duly  performed  its  voyage,  is  cast  away  in 
the  vc'ry  sight  of  the  harbor.      He  was  a  great 


142 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


mathematician  and  astrologer,  accurately  versed 
in  Chaldaean  learning,  and  wrote  incomparable 
dialogues  concerning  fate,  which  he  dedicated  to 
the  emperor  Antoninus.  And  surely  none  can 
have  looked  into  the  Recognitions,  but  he  must 
see  what  a  considerable  part  the  doctrines  con- 
cerning fate,  the  genesis,  the  influence  of  the  stars 
and  heavenly  constellations,  and  such  like  notions, 
make  there  of  St,  Peter's  and  St.  Clemens's  dia- 
logues and  discourses.  To  which  we  may  add 
what  Photius  has  observed,  and  is  abundantly  evi- 
dent from  the  thing  itself,  that  these  books  are 
considerable  for  their  clearness  and  perspicuity, 
their  eloquent  style,  and  grave  discourses,  and 
that  great  variety  of  learning  that  is  in  them  ; 
plainly  showing  their  composer  to  have  been  a 
master  in  all  human  learning,  and  the  study  of 
philosophy.  I  might  further  remark,  that  Barde- 
sanes  seems  to  have  had  a  peculiar  genius  for 
books  of  this  nature,  it  being  particularly  noted 
of  him,  that  besides  the  Scriptures,  he  traded  in 
certain  apocryphal  writings.  He  wrote  irAtira 
ovyypaf//iara,  which  St.  Jeromc  renders  "infinite 
volumes  ;"  written  indeed  for  the  most  part  in 
Syriac,  but  which  his  scholars  translated  into 
Greek,  though  he  himself  was  sufficiently  skilful 
in  tliat  language,  as  Epiphanius  notes.  In  the 
number  of  tliese  books  might  be  the  Recognitions, 
plausibly  fathered  upon  St.  Clemens,  who  was  no- 
toriously known  to  be  St.  Peter's  companion  and 
disciple  :  and  were  but  some  of  his  many  books 
now  e.xtant,  I  doubt  not  but  a  much  greater  affi- 
nity both  in  style  and  notions  would  appear  be- 
tween them.  But  this  I  propose  only  as  a  proba- 
ble conjecture,  and  leave  it  at  the  reader's  plea- 
sure either  to  reject  or  entertain  it.  I  am  not  ig- 
norant that  both  St.  Jerome  and  Photius  charge 
these  books  with  heretical  opinions,  especially 
some  derogatory  of  the  honor  of  the  Son  of  God, 
which  it  may  be  Rufinus  (who  confesses  the  same 
thing,  and  supposes  them  to  have  been  inserted 
by  some  heretical  hand)  concealed  in  his  transla 
tion  :  nay,  Epiphanius  tells  us,  that  the  Ebionites 
did  so  extremely  corrupt  them,  that  they  scai 
left  any  thing  of  St.  Clemens  sound  and  true  in 
them,  which  he  observes  from  their  repugnancy 
to  his  other  writings,  those  Encyclical  epistles  of 
his  (as  he  calls  them)  which  were  read  in  the 
churches.  But  then  it  is  plain,  he  means  it  only 
of  those  copies  which  were  in  the  possession  of 
those  heretics,  probably  not  now  extant,  nor  do 
any  of  those  particular  adulterations  which  he  says 
they  made  in  them,  appear  in  our  books,  nor  in 
those  large  and,  to  be  sure,  uncorrupt  fragments 
of  Bardesanes  and  Origen  is  there  the  least  con- 
siderable variation  from  those  books  which  we 
have  at  this  day.     But  of  this  enough. 

12.  The  epistle  to  St.  James,  the  brother  of  our 
Lord  is,  no  doubt,  of  equal  date  with  the  rest ;  in 
the  close  whereof  the  autlior  pretends,  that  he  was 
commanded  by  St.  Peter  to  give  him  an  account 
of  his  travels,  discourses,  and  the  success  of  his 
ministry,  imdor  the  title  of  Clemens's  Epitome  of 
Peter's  popular  Preachings,  to  which  he  tells  him 
he  would  next  proceed.  So  that  this  epistle  ori- 
ginally was  nothing  but  a  preface  to  St.  Peter's 
Acts  or  Periods  ;  (the  same  in  effect  with  the  Re- 
cognitions ;)  and,  accordingly,  in  the  late  edition 
of  the  Clementine  Homilies,  (which  have  the  very 


title  mentioned  in  that  epistle,)  it  is  found  prefixed 
before  them.  This  epistle  (as  Photius  tells  us) 
varied  according  to  different  editions  ;  sometimes 
pretending  that  it,  and  the  account  of  St.  Peter's 
Acts  annexed  to  it,  were  written  by  St.  Peter 
himself,  and  by  him  sent  to  St.  James ;  sometimes 
that  they  were  written  by  Clemens,  at  St.  Peter's 
instance  and  command.  Whence  he  conjectures 
that  there  was  a  two-fold  edition  of  St.  Peter's 
Acts,  one  said  to  be  written  by  himself,  the  other 
by  Clemens  ;  and  that  when  in  time  the  first  was 
lost,  that  pretending  to  St.  Clemens  did  remain  : 
for  so  he  assures  us  he  constantly  found  it,  in 
those  many  copies  that  he  met  with,  notwithstand- 
ing that  the  epistle  and  inscription  were  sometimes 
different  and  various.  By  the  original  whereof, 
now  published,  appears  the  fraud  of  the  factors 
of  the  Romish  church,  who  in  all  Latin  editions 
have  added  an  appendix  almost  twice  as  large  as 
the  epistle  itself.  And  well  had  it  been,  had  this 
been  the  only  instance  wherein  some  men,  to 
shore  up  a  tottering  cause,  have  made  bold  with 
the  writers  of  the  ancient  church. 

His  writings  : — Genuine,  "  Epistola  ad  Corin- 
thios."  Doubtful,  "  Epistola  ad  Corinth,  secunda." 
Stipposiiilious,  "  Epistola  ad  Jacobum  Fratrem 
Domini."  "  Recognitionum,  lib.  x."  To  KXfj/itvna, 
seu,  "  Homilice  Clementinse."  "  Constitutionum, 
App.  lib.  viii."     "  Canonos  Apostohci." 


ST.     IGNATIUS. 

Finding  nothing  recorded  concerning  the  country 
or  parentage  of  this  holy  man,  I  shall  not  build 
upon  mere  fancy  and  conjecture.  He  is  ordina- 
ily  styled,  both  by  himself  and  others,  Theophorus  ; 
which,  though  like  Justus,  it  be  oft  no  more  than 
a  common  epithet,  yet  is  it  sometimes  used  as  a 
proper  name.  It  is  written  according  to  the  dif- 
ferent nations,  either  e€o(popoi;  and  then  it  denotes 
a  divine  person,  a  man  whose  soul  is  full  of  God, 
and  all  Jioly  and  divine  qualities,  O  tov  Xpt^ov  tv  tj) 
yvxn  n[pi4>spiav,  as  Iguatius  himself  is  said  to  explain 
it  ;  or  eeo(popoi,  and  so,  in  a  passive  signification  it 
implies  one  that  is  borne  or  carried,  by  God. 
And  in  this  latter  sense  he  is  said  to  have  derived 
the  title,  from  our  Lord's  taking  him  up  into  his 
arms.  For  thus  we  are  told,  that  he  was  that 
very  child  whom  our  Saviour  took  into  his  arms, 
and  set  in  the  midst  of  his  disciples,  as  the  most 
lively  instance  of  innocency  and  humility.  And 
this  is  affirmed  (if  number  might  carry  it)  not  only 
by  the  Greeks  in  the  public  rituals  ;  by  Meta- 
phrastes,  Necephorus,  and  ohers,  but  (as  the 
primate  of  Armagh  observes  from  the  manuscripts 
in  his  own  possession)  by  two  Syriac  writers, 
more  ancient  than  they.  But  how  confidently  or 
generally  soever  it  be  reported,  the  story  at  best 
is  precarious  and  uncertain,  not  to  say  absolutely 
false  and  groundless.  Sure  I  am  St.  Chrysostom 
(who  had  far  better  opportunities  of  knowing  than 
they)  expressly  affirms  of  Ignatius,  that  he  never 
saw  our  Saviour,  or  enjoyed  any  familiarity  or 
converse  with  him. 

2.  In  his  younger  years,  he  was  brought  up  un- 
der apostolical  institution :    so  Chrysostom  tells 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


143 


us,  that  he  was  intimately  conversant  with  the 
apostles,  educated  and  nursed  up  by  them,  every 
where  at  hand,  and  made  partaker,  both  of  their 
familiar  discourses,  and  more  secret  and  uncom- 
mon inysteries.  Which,  though  it  is  probable  he 
means  of  his  particular  conversation  with  St. 
Peter  and  Paul ;  yet  some  of  the  forementioned 
authoi's,  and  not  they  only,  but  tlie  acts  of  his 
martyrdom,  written  as  is  supposed  by  some  pre- 
sent at  it,  further  assure  us,  that  lie  was  St.  John's 
disciple.  Being  fully  instructed  in  the  doctrines  of 
Christianity,  lie  was,  for  his  eminent  parts,  and 
the  great  piety  of  his  life,  chosen  to  be  bishop  of 
Antiocli,  the  metropolis  of  Syria,  and  the  most 
famous  and  renowned  city  of  the  east ;  not  more 
remarkable  among  foreign  writers  for  being  the 
oriental  seat  of  the  Roman  emperors,  and  their 
viceroys  and  governors,  than  it  is  in  ecclesiastics, 
for  its  eminent  entertainment  of  the  Christian 
faith,  its  giving  the  venerable  title  of  Christians 
to  the  disciples  of  the  lioly  Jesus,  and  St.  Peter's 
first  and  peculiar  residence  in  this  place.  Whence 
the  synod  of  Constantinople,  assembled  under 
Nectarius,  in  their  synodical  epistle  to  the  western 
bishops,  deservedly  call  it  "  the  most  ancient  and 
truly  apostolic  church  of  Antioch,  in  which  the 
honorable  name  of  Christians  did  first  commence." 
In  all  which  respects  it  is  frequently  in  the  writings 
of  the  church,  by  a  proud  kind  of  title,  styled 
eesnohs,  or  the  City  of  God.  That  Ignatius  was 
constituted  bishop  of  this  church,  is  allowed  on  all 
hands  ;  though  as  to  the  time  and  order  of  his 
coming  to  it,  almost  the  same  difficulties  occur 
which"  before  did  in  Clemens's  succession  to  the 
see  of  Rome,  possibly  not  readily  to  be  removed 
but  by  the  same  method  of  solution,  easily  grant- 
ed in  this  case  by  Baronius  himself,  and  some 
other  writers  of  note  in  that  cimrch.  I  shall  not 
need  to  prove  what  is  evident  enough  in  itself, 
and  plainly  acknowledged  by  the  ancients  ;  that 
Peter  and  Paul  planted  Christianity  in  this  city, 
and  both  concurred  to  the  foundation  of  this 
church- ;  the  one  applying  himself  to  the  Jews, 
the  other  to  the  Gentiles.  And  large  enough  was 
the  vineyard  to  admit  the  joint  endeavors  of  these 
two  great  planters  of  the  gospel ;  it  being  a  vast 
populous  city,  containing  at  that  time,  according 
to  St.  Chrysostom's  computation,  no  less  than  two 
hundred  thousand  souls.  But  the  apostles  (who 
could  not  stay  always  in  one  place)  being  called 
off  to  the  ministry  of  other  chmxhes,  saw  it  ne- 
cessary to  substitute  others  in  their  room  ;  the  one 
resigning  his  trust  to  Euodius,  the  other  to  Igna- 
tius. Hence,  in  the  Apostolic  Constitutions,  Euo- 
dius is  said  to  be  ordained  bishop  of  Antioch  by 
St.  Peter,  and  Ignatius,  by  St.  Paul ;  till  Euodius 
dying,  and  the  Jewish  converts  being  better  recon- 
ciled to  the  Gentiles,  Ignatius  succeeded  in  the 
sole  care  and  presidency  over  that  church,  where- 
in he  might  possibly  be  afterwards  confirmed  by  > 
Peter  himself.  In  "which  respect  probably  the  j 
author  of  the  Ale.xandrine  Chronicon  meant  it, 
when  he  affirms,  that  Ignatius  svas  constituted  | 
bishop  of  Antiocli  by  the  apostles.  By  this  means 
he  may  be  said  both  immediately  to  succeed 
the  apostle,  as  Origen,  Eusebius,  Athanasius,  and 
Chrysostom  affirm  ;  and  withal  to  be  the  next ; 
after  Euodius,  as  St.  Jerome,  Socrates,  Meta- ' 
phrastes,  and  others  place  liim.  However,  Euo- 
lOO  (24) 


dius  dying,  and  he  being  settled  in  it  by  the  apos- 
tles' hands,  might  be  justly  said  to  succeed  St. 
Peter  ;  in  which  sense  it  is,  that  some  of  the  an- 
cients expressly  affirm  him  to  have  received  his 
consecration  from  St.  Peter,  and  so  their  own  his- 
torian relates,  that  Peter  coming  to  Antioch  in 
his  passage  to  Rome,  and  finding  Euodius  lately 
dead,  committed  the  government  of  it  to  Ignatius, 
whom  he  made  bishop  of  that  place:  though  it 
will  be  a  little  difficult  to  reconcile  the  times  to  an 
agreement  with  that  account. 

3.  Somewhat  above  forty  years  St.  lo-natius 
continued  in  his  charge  at  Antioch,  (Nicephorus, 
patriarch  of  Constantinople,  assigns  him  but  four 
years;  the  figure  n,  for  forty,  being  probably, 
through  the  carelessness  of  transcribers,  slipped 
out  of  the  account,)  in  the  midst  of  very  stormy 
and  tempestuous  times.  But  he,  like  a  wise  and 
prudent  pilot,  sat  at  the  stern,  and  dechned  the 
dangers  that  threatened  them,  by  his  prayers  and 
tears,  his  fastings,  and  the  constancy  of  his  preach- 
ing, and  those  indefatigable  pains  he  took  among 
them,  fearing  lest  any  of  the  more  weak  and  un- 
settled Christians  might  be  overborne  with  the 
storms  of  persecution.  Never  did  a  little  calm 
and  quiet  interval  happen,  but  he  rejoiced  in  the 
prosperity  of  the  church  ;  though,  as  to  himself, 
he  somewhat  impatiently  expected  and  longed  for 
martyrdom,  without  which  he  accounted  he  could 
never  perfectly  attain  to  the  love  of  Christ,  nor 
fill  up  the  duty  and  measures  of  a  true  disciple  ; 
which  accordingly  afterwards  became  his  portion. 
Indeed,  as  to  the  particular  acts  of  his  govern- 
ment, nothing  memorable  is  recorded  of  liim  in 
the  antiquities  of  the  church,  more  than  what  So- 
crates relates,  (by  what  authority  I  confess  I 
know  not,)  that  he  saw  a  vision,  uherein  he  heard 
the  angels,  with  alternate  hymn.'--,  celebrating  the 
honor  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  in  imitation  whereof 
he  instituted  the  way  of  antiphonal  hymns  in  the 
church  of  Antioch  ;  which  thence  spread  itself 
over  the  whole  Christian  church.  Whether  this 
story  was  made  on  purpose  to  outvie  the  Arians, 
who  were  wont,  on  the  sabbaths  and  Lord's-days, 
to  sing  alternate  hymns  in  their  congregations, 
with  some  tart  reflections  upon  the  orthodox,  in- 
somuch that  Chrysostom  was  forced  to  introduce 
the  same  way  of  singing  into  the  orthodox  assem- 
blies ;  or  whether  it  was  really  instituted  by  Igna- 
tius, but  afterwards  grown  into  disuse,  I  will  not 
say.  Certain  it  is,  that  Flavianus,  afterwards 
bishop  of  Antioch,  in  the  reign  of  Constantius,  is 
said  to  have  been  the  first  that  thus  established 
the  choir,  and  appointed  David's  Psalms  to  be 
sung  by  turns  ;  which  thence  propagated  itself 
to  other  churches.  St.  Ambrose  was  the  first 
that  brought  it  into  the  western  church,  reviving 
(says  the  historian)  the  ancient  institution  of  Ig- 
natius, long  disused  among  the  Greeks.  But  to 
return. 

4.  It  was  about  the  year  of  Christ  107,  when 
Trajan,  the  emperor,  swelled  with  his  late  victory 
over  the  Scythians  and  the  Daci,  about  the  ninth 
year  of  his  reign,  came  to  Antioch,  to  make  pre- 
paration for  tlie  war  which  he  was  resolved  to 
make  upon  the  Partliians  and  Armenians.  He 
entered  the  city  with  the  pomps  and  solemnities 
of  a  triumph  ;  and  as  his  first  care  usually  was 
about  the  concernments  of  religion,  he  began  pre- 


144 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


sently  to  inquire  into  that  affair.  Indeed  he  look- 1  more  effectually  terrified  from  the  embracing  that 
ed  upon  it  as  an  affront  to  his  other  victories  to  j  religion,  which  they  saw  so  much  distasted  and 
be  conquered  by  Christians ;  and  therefore,  to ;  resented  by  the  emperor,  and  the  profession 
make  his  religion  stoop,  had  already  commenced  '  whereof  could  not  be  purchased  but  at  so  dear  a 
a  persecution^'against  them  in  other  parts  of  the  j  rate  ;  besides  the  probability,  that  by  this^usage 
empire,  which  he  resolved  to  carry  on  here.  St.  |  the  constancy  of  Ignatius  himself  might  be  broken, 
Ignatius  (whose  solicitude  for  the  good  of  his  I  and  he  forced  to  yield.  Fourthly,  they  designed 
flock  made  him  continually  stand  upon  his  guard)  |  to  make  the  good  man's  punishment  as  severe 
thinking  it  more  prudent  to  go  himself  than  stay  and  heavy  as  they  could ;  and  therefore  so  con- 
to  be  selit  for,  of  his  accord  presented  himself  to  |  trived  it,  that  there  might  be   a  concurrence  of 


the  emperor,  between  whom  there  is  said  to  hav 
passed  a  large  and  particular  discourse  ;  the  em- 
peror wondering  that  he  dared  to  transgress  his 
laws,  while  the  good  man  asserted  his  own  iimo- 
cency,  and  tiie  power  uhich  God  hath  given 
them'  over  evil  spirits,  and  that  the  gods  of  tjie 
Gentiles  were  nn  better  than  demons,  there  being 
but  one  supreme  Deity,  who  made  the  world,  and 
liis  only  begotten  Sonj  Jesus  Christ,  who,  though 
crucified  under  Pilate,  liad  yet  destroyed  him  that 
h'id  the  power  of  sin,  that  is,  the  devil,  and  would 
ruin  the  whole  power  and  empire  of  the  demons, 
and  tread  it  under  the  feet  of  those  who  carried 
God  in  their  hearts.  The  issue  was,  that  he  was 
cast  into  prison  ;  where  (if  what  tiie  Greek  rituals 
and  some  others  report,  be  true)  ho  was,  tor  the 
constancy  and  resolution  of  his  profession,  sub- 
jected to  the  most  severe  and  merciless  torments, 
whipped  with  jdianbaiec,  scourges  with  leaden 
bullets  at  the  end  of  them,  forced  to  hold  fire  in 
liis  jiands,  while  his  sides  were  burnt  with  paper 
dipped  in  oil,  his  feet  stood  upon  live  coals,  and  his 
flesh  was  torn  oft' with  burning  pincers.  Having, 
by  an  invincible  patience,  overcame  the  malice 
and  cruelty  of  his  tormentors,  the  emperor  pro- 
nounced the  final  sentence  upon  him,  that  being 
incurably  overrun  with  superstition,  he  should  be 
carried  bound  by  soldiers  to  Rome,  and  there 
thrown  as  a  prey  to  wild  beasts.  The  good  man 
heartily  rejoiced  at  the  fatal  decree :  "  I  thank 
thee,  O  Lord,"  said  he,  "  that  thou  has  conde- 
scended thus  perfectly  to  honor  me  with  thy  love, 
and  has  thought  me  worthy,  with  thy  apostle  Paul, 
to  bo  bound  v.'ith  iron  chains."  "With  that  ho 
cheerfully  embraced  his  chains,  and  having  fer- 
vently prayed  for  his  church,  and  with  tears  re- 
commended it  to  the  divine  care  and  providence, 
he  delivered  up  himself  into  the  hands  of  his 
keepers,  that  were  appointed  to  transport  him  to 
the  place  of  execution. 

5.  It  may  justly  seem  strange,  and  it  was  that 
which  puzzled  the  great  Scaliger,  why  he  should 
be  sent  so  vast  a  way,  from  Antioch  in  Syria,  to 
be  martyred  at  Rome.  Whereof  these  probable 
accounts  may  be  rendered.  First,  it  was  usual 
with  the  governors  of  provinces,  v.'here  the  male- 
factors were  more  than  ordinarily  eminent,  either 
for  the  quality  of  their  persons,  or  the  nature  of 
their  crimes,  to  send  them  to  Rome,  that  their 
punishment  might  be  made  exemplary  in  the  eye 
of  the  world.  Secondly,  his  enemies  were  not 
willmg  lie  sliould  suffer  at  home,  where  he  was 
too  nuich  lionorod  and  esteemed  already,  and 
where  his  death  would  but  raise  him  into  a  higher 
veneration  with  the  people,  and  settle  their  minds 
in  a  firmer  belief  of  that  faith,  which  he  had  taufrht 
them,  and  which  they  then  saw  him  sealing  withTiis 
blood.     Thirdly,  by  so  long  a  journey,  they  hoped 


circumstances  to  render  it  bitter  and  grievous  to 
him.  His  great  age,  being  then  probably  above 
four  score  years  old,  the  vast  length  and  tedious- 
ness  of  the  journey,  (which  was  not  a  little  in- 
creased, as  Chrysostora  observes,  by  their  going- 
the  furthest  way  about,  for  they  went  not  the  di- 
rect passage  to  Rome,  but  by  infinite  windings, 
diverted  from  place  to  place,)  the  trouble  and  dif- 
ficulty of  the  passage,  bad  at  all  times,  but  much 
v.-orse  now  in  winter,  the  want  of  all  necessary 
conveniences  and  accommodations  for  so  aged  and 
infirm  a  person,  the  rude  and  merciless  usage  of 
his  keepers,  who  treated  him  with  all  rugged- 
ness  and  inhumanity  :  "from  Syria  even  to  Rome, 
both  by  sea  and  land,  I  fight  with  beasts :  night 
and  day  I  am  chained  to  ten  leopards,  (whicii  is 
my  military  guard,)  who,  the  kinder  I  am  to  them, 
are  the  more  cruel  and  fierce  to  me,"  as  himself 
complains.  Besides,  what  was  dearer  to  him 
than  all  this,  his  credit  and  reputation  might  be  in 
danger  to  suftlsr  with  him ;  seeing,  at  so  great  a 
distance,  the  Romans  were  generally  more  likely 
to  understand  liim  to  suffer  as  a  malefactor  for 
some  notorious  crime,  than  as  a  martyr  for  reli- 
gion ;  and  this  Metaphrastes  assures  us,  was  one 
particular  end  of  his  sending  thither.  Not  to  say 
that  beyond  all  this,  the  divine  providence  (which 
knows  how  to  bring  good  out  of  evil,  and  to  over- 
rule the  designs  of  bad  men  to  wise  and  excel- 
lent purposes)  might  the  rather  permit  it  to  be  so, 
that  the  leading  so  great  a  man  so  far  in  triumph, 
might  make  the  faith  more  remarkable  and  i!I:iF- 
trious,  that  he  might  have  the  better  opportunity 
to  establish  and  confirm  the  Christians,  who 
flocked  to  him  from  all  parts  as  he  came  aloni;- : 
and  by  giving  them  the  example  of  a  generous 
virtue,  arm  them  with  the  stronger  resolution  to 
die  for  their  religion,  and  especially  that  he  might 
seal  the  truth  of  his  religion  at  Rome,  where  liis 
death  might  be,  (as  Chrysostom  speaks,)  "  a  tutor 
of  piety,"  and  teach  the  city  that  was  so  famous 
for  arts  and  wisdom,  a  new  and  better  philosophy 
than  they  had  learned  before.  To  all  which  may 
be  added,  that  this  was  done  not  by  the  provincial 
governor,  who  had  indeed  power  of  executino-  ca- 
pital punishments  within  his  own  province,  (which 
seems  to  have  been  the  main  ground  of  Scaliger's 
scruple,)  but  immediately  by  the  emperor  himself, 
whose  pleasure  and  command  it  was  that  he 
should  be  sent  to  Rome  ;  whither  we  must  now 
follow  liim  to  his  martyrdom  :  in  the  account 
whereof  we  shall,  for  the  main,  keep  to  the  acts 
of  it,  written,  in  all  probability,  by  Philo  and  Aga- 
thopus,  the  companions  of  his  journey,  and  pre- 
sent at  his  passion  ;  two  ancient  versions  whereof 
the  incomparable  bishop  Usher  first  recovered 
and  published  to  the  world. 

6.  Being  consigned  to  a  guard  of  ten 


,  "v  -J    -  -"b  "j"ii.i.c_y,  Lucy  iKjjjiru       u.  litrinu  uuiiftijJiieu  lo  a  guarn  or  ten  soiaiers, 

that  in  all  places  where  he  came,  men  would  be   ho  took  his  leave  of  his  beloved  Antioch,  (and  a 


livekS  of  the  apostles. 


145 


sad  parting  no  doubt  there  was  between  him  and 
his  people  ;    who  were  to  see  liis  face  no  more,) 
and  was  conducted  on  foot  to  Seleucia,  a  port- 
town  of  Syria,  about  sixteen  miles  distant  thence  : 
the  very  place  whence  Paul  and  Barnabas  set  sail 
for  Cyprus.     Here,  going  aboard,  after  a  tedious 
and  difficult  voyage,  they  arrived  at  Smyrna,  a 
famous  city  of  Ionia,  where  tliey  were  no  sooner 
set  on  shore,  but  he  went  to  salute  St.  Polycarp, 
bishop  of  the  place,  his  old  fellow-pupil  under  St. 
J  ohn  the  apostle.     Joyful  was  the  meeting  of  these 
two  holy  men  :  St.  Polyc?.rp  being  so  far  from  be- 
ing discouraged,  that  he  rejoiced  in  the  other's 
chains,  and  earnestly  pressed  him  to  a  lirra  and 
final  perseverance.     Hither  came  in  the  country 
round  about,  especially  the  bishops,   presbyters, 
and  deacons  of  Asian  churclies,  to  behold  so  vene- 
rable a  sight,  to  partake  of  the  lioly  martyr's  pray-  i 
ers  and  blessing,  and  to  encourage  him  to  hold  on  | 
to  his  consummation.     To  requite  whose  kindness,  1 
and  for  their  further  instruction  and  establishment  j 
in  the  faith,  he  wrote  letters  from  hence  to  several  i 
churches  ;    one   to   the   Ephesians,    wherein   he 
commends  Onesimus  their  bishop  for  his  singular  1 
charity  ;  another  to  the  Magnesians,  a  city  seated  j 
upon  the  river  Meander,  which  he  sent  by  Damas 
liieir  bishop,  Bassus  and  Apollonius,  presbyters,  ' 
and  Sotio,  deacon  of  that  church  ;  a  tliird  to  the  i 
Trallians,  by  Polybius  their  bishop,  wherein  lie  j 
particularly  presses  them  to  subjection  to  their  j 
spiritual  guides,  and  to  avoid  those  pestilent  here-  \ 
tical  doctrines  that  were  then  risen  in  the  church,  i 
A  fourth  lie  wrote  to  the  Christians  at  Rome,  to  j 
acquaint  them  with  his  present  state,  and  pas-  i 
sionate  desire  not  to  be  hindered  in  that  course  I 
of  martyrdom  which  he  was  now  hastening  to  1 
accomplish.  1 

7.  His  keepers,  a  little  impatient  of  their  stay  i 
at  Smyrna,  set  sail  for  Troas,  a  noted  city  of  the  I 
lesser  Phrygia,  not  far  from  the  ruins  of  the  an-  I 
cient  Troy  :  where,  at  his  arrival,  he  was  not  a 
little  refreshed  with  the  news  that  he  received,  of  i 
the  persecution  ceasing  in  the  church  of  Antioch.  j 
Hither  several  churches  sent  their  messengers  to  j 
visit  and  salute  him  ;  and  hence  he  despatched 
two  epi«tles,  one  to  the  church  of  Philadelphia,  to 
press  them  to  love  and  unity,  and  to  stand  fast  in 
the  truth  and  simplicity  of  tiie  gospel ;  the  other 
to  the  church  of  SmjTna,  from  whence  he  lately 
departed,  which  he  sent,  as  also  the  former,  by 
BuitIius  the  deacon,  whom  they  and  the  Ephe- 
sians had  sent  to  wait  upon  him  :  and  together 
with  that,  (as  Eusebius  informs  us,)  he  wrote  pri- 
vately to  St.  Polycarp,  particularly  recommending 
to  him  the  care  and  oversight  of  the  church  of 
Antioch,  for  which,  as  a  vigilant  pastor,  he  could 
not  but  have  a  tender  and  very  dear  regard ; 
though  very  learned  men,  (but  certainly  without 
any  just  reason,)  think  this  not  to  have  been  a  dis- 
tinct epistle  from  the  former  ;  but  jointly  directed  j 
and  intended  to  St.  Polycarp  and  his  cimrch  of  j 
Smyrna.      Which,  however  it  be,  they  conclude 
it  as  certain  that  the  epistle  to  St.  Polycarj)  now  ' 
extant,  is  none  of  it,  as  in  which  nothing  of  the 
true  temper  and  spirit  of  Ignatius  does  appear ; 
while  others  of  great  note  not  improbably  contend 
for  it  as  genuine  and  sincere.     From  Troas  they  j 
sailed  to  Neapolis,  a  maritime  town  of  Macedonia,  | 
thence  to  Philippi,  a  Roman  colony,  (the  very  same  ' 


journey  which  St.  Paul  had  gone  before  him,) 
where,  (as  Polycarp  intimates  in  his  epistle  to  that 
church,)  they  were  entertained  witii  all  imagina- 
ble kmdness  and  courtesy,  and  conducted  forv>ards 
m  their  journey.  Hence  they  passed  on  foot 
through  Macedonia  and  Epirus,  till  they  came  to 
Epidamnum,  a  city  of  Dalmatia  ;  where  again 
takmg  ship  they  sailed  tln-ough  the  Adriatic.°and 
arrived  at  ilegium.  a  port  town  in  Italv,  whence 
they  directed  their  course  through  the  Tvrrhe- 
nian  Sea  to  PutcoH  ;  Ignatius  desiring  (if  it'might 
iiave  been  granted)  thence  to  have  gone  bv  land, 
that  he  miglit  have  traced  the  same  wajs  by"  which 
St.  Paul  went  to  Rome.  After  a  day  and  a  night's 
stay  at  Puteoli,  a  prosperous  wind  quickly  carried 
them  to  the  Roman  port,  the  great  harbur  and 
station  for  their  navy,  built  near  Ostia,  ;it  the 
mouth  of  the  Tiber,  about  sixteen  miles  from 
Rome  ;  whither  the  holy  martyr  longed  to  come, 
as  much  desirous  to  be  at  the  end  of  his  race,  as 
his  keepers,  weary  of  their  voyage,  were  to  be  at 
the  end  of  their  journey. 

8.  The  Christians  at  Rome,  daily  expecting  iiis 
arrival,  were  come  out  to  meet  and  entertain  him ; 
and  accordingly  received  him  with  equal  resent- 
ment of  joy  and  sorrow.  Glad  they  were  of  the 
presence  and  company  of  so  great  and  good  a 
man  ;  but  quickly  found  their  joy  allayed  w  ith  the 
remembrance,  how  soon,  and  by  how  severe  a 
death  he  was  to  be  taken  from  them  :  and  when 
some  of  them  did  but  intimate,  that  pos^inly  the 
people  might  be  taken  otFfrom  desiring  his  deatli, 
he  expressed  a  pious  indignation,  entreating  them 
to  cast  no  rubs  in  his  way,  nor  do  any  thiiig  that 
might  hinder  him,  now  he  was  hastening  to  his 
crown.  Being  conducted  to  Rome,  he  was  pre- 
sented to  the  prefect  of  the  city  ;  and,  as  it  ;s  pro- 
bable, the  emperor's  letters  concerning  him  were 
delivered.  In  the  mean  time,  while  things  were 
preparing  for  his  martyrdom,  he  and  the  brethren 
that  resorted  to  him,  improved  their  time  to  pious 
purposes  ;  he  prayed  with  them  and  for  them  ; 
heartily  recommended  the  state  of  tiie  church  to 
the  care  and  protection  of  our  blessed  Saviour, 
and  earnestly  solicited  heaven,  that  it  wuuld  stop 
the  persecution  that  was  begun,  and  bless  Chris- 
tians with  a  true  lo\e  and  charity  towards  one 
another.  That  his  punishment  miglit  be  the  more 
pompous  and  pubhc,  one  of  their  solemn  festivals, 
the  time  of  their  Saturnalia,  and  that  part  of  it 
when  they  celebrated  their  Sigiilaria,  was  pitched 
on  for  his  execution  ;  at  which  time  they  were 
wont  to  entertain  the  people  with  the  bloody  con- 
flicts of  gladiators,  and  tiie  hunting  of,  and  liglit- 
ing  with  wild  beasts.  Accordingly,  on  the  18th 
of'^the  calends  of  January,  that  is,  December  20, 
he  was  brought  out  into  the  amphitheatre,  and 
according  to  his  own  fervent  desire,  that  he  might 
have  no  other  grave  but  the  bellies  of  wild  beasts, 
tiie  lions  were  let  loose  upon  liim,  who-e  roaring 
alarm  he  entertained  with  no  otiier  concernment, 
than  that  now,  as  God's  own  corn,  he  should  be 
ground  between  the  teeth  of  tliese  wild  iieaste, 
and  become  while  bread  for  Jiis  heaveiily  I\Iaster. 
The  lions  were  not  long  doing  their  v.ork,  but 
quickly  dispatched  their  meal,  and  lefl  nolhiiig  but 
what  they  could  not  well  devour,  a  few  liard  and 
solid  bones.  Tliis  throwing  of  persons  to  wild 
beasts  was  accounted  among  the  Romans,  iukr 


146 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


sumrr.a  supplicia,  and  was  never  used  but  for  very 
capital  ofFences,  and  towards  the  vilest  and  most 
despicable  malefact()rs,  under  which  rank  they 
beheiil  the  Christians,  who  were  so  familiarly 
desti'ied  to  this  kind  of  death,  (that,  as  Tertullian 
tells  us,)  upon  any  triflmg  and  frivolous  pretence, 
if  a  famine  or  an  earthquake  did  but  happen,  the 
common  outcry  was,  Christianos  adleones,  "Away 
with  the  Christians  to  tlie  lions." 

9.  Among-  other  Christians  that  were  mournful 
specu.tors  of  this  tragic  scene,  were  the  deacons 
I  meiilioned,  who  had  been  the  companions  of  his 
journey,  who  bore  not  the  least  part  in  the  sor- 
rows of  that  day.  And  that  they  might  not  return 
home  with  nothing  but  the  account  of  so  sad  a 
story,  they  gathered  up  the  bones  wliich  the  wild 
beasts  Iiad  spared,  and  transported  tJicm  to  An- 
tioch,  where  they  were  joyfully  received,  and  ho- 
norably entombed  in  tlie  cemetery,  without  the 
gate  ti.at  leads  to  Daphne.  A  passage  which 
Chrysostom,  according  to  his  rhetorical  vein,  ele- 
gantly amplifies  as  the  great  honor  and  treasure 
of  that  jlace.  From  hence,  in  the  reign  of  Tlieo- 
dosius,  I  hey  were,  by  his  command,  with  mighty 
pomp  and  solemnily,  removed  to  the  Tychaeon 
witliin  the  city  ;  a  temple  heretofore  dedicated  to 
the  pubJ.'c  genius  of  the  city,  but  now  consecrated 
to  the  memory  of  the  martyr.  And  for  their  trans- 
lation alterwards  to  Rome,  and  the  miracles  said 
to  be  dure  by  them,  they  that  arc  further  curious, 
may  inquire.  For  indeed  I  am  not  now  at  leisure 
Jbr  these  things.  But  I  can  direct  the  reader  to 
one  tha!  will  give  him  very  punctual  and  particu- 
lar accounts  of  them,  and  in  wliat  places  the  seve- 
ral parcels  of  his  relics  arc  bestowed  ;  no  less  than 
five  churciies  in  Rome  enriched  with  them,  be- 
sides others  in  Naples,  Sicily,  France,  Flanders, 
Germany,  and  indeed  where  not  '\  And  verily, 
but  that  some  men  have  a  very  happy  faculty  at 
doing  wonders  by  multiplication,  a  man  would  be 
apt  to  wonder  liow  a  few  bones  (and  tliey  were 
not  many  which  the  lions  spared)  could  be  able 
to  serve  so  many  several  churches.  I  could  like- 
wise tell  him  a  long  story  of  the  various  travels 
and  donations  of  St.  Ignalius's  head,  and  by  what 
good  fortune  it  came  at  last  to  the  Jesuits'  college 
at  Rome,  where  it  is  richly  enshrined,  solemnly 
and  religiously  worshipped,  but  that  I  am  afraid 
my  reader  will  give  me  no  thanks  for  my  pains. 

10.  About  this  time,  or  a  little  before,  while 
Trajan  was  yet  at  Antioch,  he  stopped,  or  at  least 
mitigated  the  persecution  against  Christians  ;  for 
having  had  an  account  from  Pliny,  tlie  proconsul 
of  Bithynia,  (whom  he  had  employed  to  that  pur- 
pose,) concerning  the  innocency  and  simplicity  of 
the  Christians,  that  they  were  a  harmless  and"  in- 
offensive generation  ;  and  lately  received  a  letter 
from  Tiberianus,  governor  of  Palestina  Prima, 
wherein  he  told  him,  that  he  was  wearied  out  in 
executing  the  laws  against  the  Galileans,  who 
crowded  themselves  in  sucii  multitudes  to  execu- 
tion, that  he  could  neither  by  persuasion  nor 
threalenings  keep  them  from  owning  themselves 
to  be  Ciiristians,  further  praying  his  majesty's 
advice  in  that  affair  :  liercupoii  he  gave  command, 
that  no  inquisition  sliould  be  made  after  the  Chris- 
tians, though  if  any  of  them  offered  themselves, 
execution  should  be  done  upon  them  :  so  that  the 
fire  which  had  hitherto  flamed  and  burned  out, 


began  now  to  be  extinguished,  and  only  crept  up 
and  down  in  private  corners.  There  are  that  tell 
us,  that  Trajan  having  heard  a  full  account  of 
Ignatius  and  his  sufferings,  and  how  undauntedly 
he  liad  undergone  that  bitter  death,  repented  of 
vvliat  he  had  done,  and  was  particularly  moved  to 
mitigate  and  relax  the  persecution  :  whereby  (as 
Metaphrastes  observes)  not  only  Ignatius's  life, 
but  his  death  became  ixoWav  Trpoi,tvos  aya^wv,  the 
procurer  of  great  peace  and  prosperity,  and  the 
glory  and  establishment  of  the  Christian  faith. — 
Some  not  improbably  conceive,  that  the  severe 
judgments  vvhicli  happened  not  long  after,  might 
have  a  peculiar  influence  to  dispose  the  emperor's 
mind  to  more  tenderness  and  }  ity  for  the  remain- 
der of  his  life.  For  during  his  abode  at  Antioch, 
there  were  dreadful  and  unusual  earthquakes,  fatal 
to  other  places,  but  which  fell  most  heavy  upon 
Antioch,  at  that  time  full  more  than  ordinary, 
with  a  vast  army  and  confluence  of  people  from  all 
parts  of  the  world.  Among  thousands  that  died, 
and  far  greater  numbers  that  were  maimed  and 
wounded,  Pedo  the  consul  lost  his  life ;  and  Tra- 
jan himself,  had  he  not  escaped  out  at  a  window, 
had  undergone  the  same  fate.  Accidents  which 
I  doubt  not  prepared  his  mind  to  a  more  serious 
consideration  and  regard  of  things.  Though  these 
calamities  happened  not  till  some  years  after  Igna- 
tius's death. 

11.  Whether  these  judgments  vi-ere  immediate 
instances  of  the  Divine  displeasure  for  the  severity 
used  against  the  Christians,  and  particularly  for 
their  cruelty  to  Ignatius,  I  will  not  say.  Certain 
it  is,  that  the  Christian  church  had  a  mighty  loss 
in  so  useful  and  excellent  a  person.  For  he  was  a 
good  man,  one  in  whose  breast  the  true  spirit  of 
religion  did  eminently  dwell ;  a  man  of  very  mode- 
rate and  mortified  affections,  in  which  sense  he 
doubtless  intended  that  famous  saying,  so  much 
celebrated  by  the  ancients,  o  EM  OS  EPfls  ES- 
TArPSZTAi,  "My  love  is  crucified;"  that  is,  (for 
to  that  purpose  he  explains  it  in  the  very  words 
that  follow,)  his  appetites  and  desires  were  cruci- 
fied to  the  world,  and  all  the  lusts  and  pleasures 
of  it.  We  may,  with  St.  Chrysostom,  consider  liim 
in  a  threefold  capacity,  as  an  apostle,  a  bisnop,  and 
a  martyr.  As  an  apostle  (in  the  larger  accepta- 
tion of  the  word,  he  being  as  the  Greek  offices 
style  liim,  "  the  immediate  successor  of  the  apos- 
tles in  their  see")  he  was  careful  to  diffuse  and 
propagate  the  genuine  doctrine  which  he  had  re- 
ceived of  the  apostles,  and  took  a  kind  of  oecu- 
menical care  of  all  churches.  Even  in  Jiis  pas- 
sage to   Rome   he   surveyed  raq  Kara  izo^tv  THpouciof, 

as  Eusebius  tells  us,  the  diocesses,  or  ciuirches, 
that  belonged  to  all  tlie  cities  whither  he  came  ; 
confirming  them  by  his  sermons  and  exhortations, 
and  directing  epistles  to  several  of  the  principals 
for  their  further  order  and  establishment  in  the " 
faith.  As  a  bishop,  he  was  a  diligent,  faithful,  and 
industrious  pastor,  infinitely  careful  of  his  charge  ; 
which  though  so  exceedingly  vast  and  numerous, 
he  prudently  instructed,  governed,  and  superin- 
tended, and  that  in  the  midst  of  ticklish  and  trou- 
blesome times,  above  forty  years  together.  He 
had  a  true  and  unchangeable  love  for  his  people  ; 
and  when  ravished  from  them  in  order  to  his  mar- 
tyrdom, there  was  not  any  church  to  whom  he 
wrote,  but  he  particularly  begged  their  prayers  to 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


147 


God  for  his  church  at  Antioch ;  and  of  some  of 
them  desired  that  they  would  send  ^torrpcaiicvrvv,  a 
divine  ambassador  thither,  on  purpose  to  comfort 
them,  and  to  congratulate  their  happy  deliverance 
from  the  persecution.  And  because  he  knew  that 
the  prosperity  of  the  church  and  the  good  of  souls 
were  no  less  undermined  by  heresy  from  wit-^iin, 
than  assaulted  by  violence  and  persecution  from 
without,  he  had  a  peculiar  eye  to  that,  and  took  all 
occasions  of  warning  the  church  to  beware  of  he- 
retics and  seducers  ;  those  beasts  in  the  shape  of 
men,  whose  wild  notions  and  brutish  manners  be- 
gan even  then  to  embase  religion,  and  corrupt  tiie 
simplicity  of  the  faith.  Indeed,  lie  tilled  up  all  the 
measures  of  a  wise  governor,  and  an  excellent 
guide  of  souls  :  and  St.  Chrysostom  runs  through 
the  particular  characters  of  the  bishop  delineated 
by  St.  Paul,  and  finds  tiiem  all  accomplished  and 
made  good  in  him;  with  so  generous  a  care,  (says 
he,)  so  exact  a  diligence  did  he  preside  over  the 
flock  of  Christ,  even  to  the  making  good  what  our 
Lord  describes  as  the  utmost  pitch  and  line  of 
episcopal  fidelity,  "  to  lay  down  his  life  for  the 
sheep  ;"  and  this  he  did  with  all  courage  and  for- 
titude ;  which  is  the  last  consideration  we  sliall 
remark  concerning  him. 

1*2,  As  a  martyr  he  gave  the  higher  testimony 
to  his  fidelity,  and  to  the  truth  of  tliat  religion 
which  he  both  preaciied  and  practised.  He  glo- 
ried in  his  sufferings  as  Jiis  honor  and  his  privi- 
lege, and  looked  upon  chains  as  his  jewels  and  his 
ornaments  :  he  was  raised  above  either  the  love 
or  fear  of  the  present  state,  and  could  with  as 
much  ease  and  freedom  (says  Chrysostom)  lay 
down  his  life,  as  another  man  could  put  off  his 
clothes.  The  truth  is,  liis  soul  was  strangely  in- 
flamed with  a  desire  of  martyrdom  ;  he  wished 
every  step  of  liis  journey  to  meet  with  the  wild 
beasts  that  were  prepared  for  him  ;  and  tells  the 
Romans,  he  desired  nothing  more  than  they  might 
presently  do  his  work,  that  he  would  invite  and 
court  them  speedily  to  devour  him,  ajid  if  he  found 
them  backward,  as  they  had  been  towards  others, 
lie  would  provoke  and  force  them.  And  though 
the  death  he  was  to  undergo  was  most  savage 
and  barbarous,  and  dressed  up  in  the  most  horrid 
and  friffhtful  shapes,  enough  to  startle  the  firmest 
resolution,  yet  could  they  make  no  impression 
upon  his  impregnable  adamantine  mind,  any  more 
than  the  dashes  of  a  wave  upon  a  rock  of  marble. 
"Let  the  fire,"  said  he,  "and  the  cross,  and  the 
assaults  of  wild  beasts,  the  breaking  of  bones,  cut- 
ting of  limbs,  battering  the  whole  body  in  pieces  ; 
yea,  and  all  the  torments  which  the  devil  can  in- 
vent come  upon  me,  so  I  may  but  attain  to  be  with 
Jesus  Christ ;"  professing  he  thought  it  much 
better  to  die  for  Christ,  than  to  live  and  reign  tiie 
sole  monarch  of  the  world.  Expressions  certainly 
of  a  mighty  zeal,  and  a  divine  passion  wound  up 
to  its  highest  note.  And  yet,  after  all,  this  excel- 
lent person  was  humble  to  the  lowest  step  of  aba- 
sure.  He  often  professes  that  he  looked  upon 
himself  as  an  abortive,  and  the  very  least  of  the 
faithful  in  the  whole  church  of  Antioch ;  and 
though  it  was  his  utmost  ambition,  yet  he  did  not 
know  whether  he  was  worthy  to  suffer  for  religion. 
I  might  in  the  last  place  enter  into  p  discourse 
concerning  his  epistles  ;  (the  true  indices  of  the 
piety  and  divine  temper  of  his  mind  ;)  those  seven 


I  mean,  enumerated  and  quoted  by  Eusebius,  and 
collected  by  St.  Polycarp,   as  himself  expressly 
testifies  ;  but  shall  forbear,  despairing  to  offer  any 
thing  considerable  after  so  much  as  has  been  said 
by  learned  men  about  them  ;  only  observing,  that 
in  the  exceptions  to  the  argument  from  St.  Poly- 
j  carp's  testimonj^  little  more  is  said  even  by  those 
who  have  managed  it  to  the  best  advantage,  than 
I  what  might  be  urged  against  the  most  genuine 
I  writing  in  tlie  world.     I  add  St.  Polycarp's  cha- 
racter of  these  epistles,  whereby  he  recommends 
I  them    as  highly  useful  and  advantageous ;  tliat 
I  "  they  contain  in  them  instructions  and  exhorta- 
I  tions  to  faith  and  patience,  and  whatever  is  neces- 
'  sary  to  build  us  up  in  the  religion  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour." 

His  writiiigs  : — Genuine, '■'■  AA  Ephesios  E pis- 
tola,  I."  "Ad  Magnesianos,  I."  "Ad  Traliia- 
nos,  I."  "Ad  Ronianos,  I."  "  Ad  Philadelphe- 
nos,  i."  "Ad  SmyruEOS,  I."  "Epistola  ad 
Polycarpura." — Spurious,  "AdMariam  Cassobo- 
litam,  I."  "Ad  Tarsenes,  I."  "Ad  Antioclie- 
nos,  I."  "Ad  Phihppenses,  I."  "  Ad  Heronem, 
I."  "  Ad  B.  Virg.  Mariam,  I."  "  Ad  Joannem 
Apostolum,  II." 


ST.    POLYCARP. 

St.  Polycarp  was  born  towards  the  latter  end  of 
Nero's  reign,  or  it  may  be  a  little  sooner ;  liis 
great  age  at  the  time  of  his  death,  with  some  other 
circumstances,  rendering  it  highly  probable,  if  not 
certain.  Uncertain  it  is  where  he  was  born  ;  and 
I  see  no  sufficient  reason  to  the  contrary  why  we 
may  not  fix  his  nativity  at  Smyrna,  an  eminent 
city  of  Ionia,  in  the  lesser  Asia,  the  first  of  the 
seven  that  entered  their  claim  of  being  the  birth- 
place of  the  famous  Homer  ;  in  memory  whereof 
they  had  a  library,  and  a  four-square  portico,  call- 
ed Homereum,  with  a  temple  and  the  statue  of 
Homer  adjoining  to  it,  and  used  a  sort  of  brass 
coin,  which  they  called  'Ofojpcior,  after  his  name, 
and  probably  with  his  image  stamped  upon  it.  A 
place  it  was  of  great  honor  and  renown,  and  has 
not  only  very  magnificent  titles  heaped  upon  it  by 
the  writers  of  those  times,  but  in  several  ancient 
inscriptions  set  up  by  the  public  order  of  the  se- 
nate, not  long  after  the  time  of  Adrian,  it  is  styled 
the  chief  city  of  Asia,  both  for  beauty  and  gi-eat- 
ness,  the  most  splendid,  the  metropolis  of  Asia, 
and  the  ornament  of  Ionia.  But  it  had  a  far 
greater  and  a  more  honorable  privilege  to  glory 
in,  if  it  was  (as  we  suppose)  the  place  of  St.  Po- 
lycarp's  nativity,  Jiowever  of  his  education,  the 
seat  of  his  episcopal  care  and  charge,  and  the 
scene  of  his  tragedy  and  martyrdom.  The  Greeks, 
in  their  Menseon,  report  that  he  was  educated  at 
the  charge  of  a  certain  noble  matron,  (whose 
name,  we  are  told,  was  Callisto,)  a  woman  of  great 
piety  and  charity  ;  who,  when  she  had  exhausted 
all  her  granaries  in  relieving  the  poor,  had  them 
suddenly  filled  again  by  St.  Polycarp's  prayers. 
The  circumstances  whereof  are  more  particularly 
related  by  Pionius,  (who  suffered,  if,  which  I  must 
question,  it  was  the  same,  under  the  Dccian  per- 
secution,) to  this  effect.     Callisto,  warned  by  an 


148 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES, 


angel  in  a  dream,  sent  and  redeemed  Polycarp, 
(then  but  a  child,)  of  some  wlio  sold  him,  brought 
him  home,  took  care  of  his  education,  and  finding 
hira  a  youtli  of  ripe  and  pregnant  parts,  as  he  grew 
up  made  iiim  the  major  domo  and  steward  of  her 
house ;  whose  charity,  it  seems,  he  dispensed  with 
a  very  liberal  hand,  insomuch,  that  during  her  ab- 
sence he  had  emptied  all  her  barns  and  store- 
houses to  the  uses  of  the  poor.  For  which  being 
charged  by  his  fellow-servants  at  her  return,  she 
not  knowing  then  to  wiiat  purpose  he  liad  em- 
ployed them,  called  for  the  key^i  and  commanded 
him  to  resign  his  trust ;  which  was  no  sooner 
done,  but  at  lier  entrance  in,  she  found  all  places 
full,  and  in  as  good  condition  as  slie  had  left  them, 
which  his  prayers  and  intercession  with  Heaven 
had  again  replcnislied.  As,  indeed,  Heaven  can 
be  sometimes  content  rather  to  work  a  miracle, 
than  charity  shall  suffer  and  fare  the  worse  for  its 
kindness  and  bounty.  In  his  younger  years  he  is 
said  to  have  been  instructed  in  t])e  Christian  faitli 
by  Bucolus,  whom  the  same  Menseon  elsewhere 
informs  us  St.  Joirn  liad  consecrated  bishop  of 
Smyrna  :  however,  authors  of  more  unquestion- 
able credit  and  ancient  date  tell  us,  that  he  was 
St.  John's  disciple,  and  not  his  only,  but  as  Iren- 
seus,  who  was  his  scholar,  (followed  lierein  by 
St.  Jerome,)  assures  us,  he  was  taught  by  the 
apostles,  and  familiarly  conversed  witli  many  who 
had  seen  our  Lord  in  the  flesh. 

2.  Bucolus,  the  vigilant  and  industrious  bishop 
of  Smyrna,  being  dead,  (by  whom  St.  Polycarp 
was,  as  we  are  told,  made  deacon  and  catechist 
of  that  church,  an  office  which  he  discharged  with 
great  diligence  and  success,)  Polycarp  was  or- 
dained in  his  room,  according  to  Bucolus's  own 
prediction,  who,  as  tlie  Greeks  report,  had  in  his 
lifetime  foretold  that  lie  should  be  his  successor. 
He  was  constituted  by  St.  John,  say  the  ancients 
generally  ;  though  Irena^us,  followed  herein  by  tiio 
chronicle  of  Alexandria,  affirms  it  to  have  been 
done  by  the  apostles  :  whether  any  of  the  apos- 
tles besides  St.  John  were  then  alive,  or  whether 
he  means  apostolic  persons,  (commonly  styled  apos- 
tles in  the  writings  of  the  churcii,)  who  joined  with 
St.  John  in  the  consecration.  Eusebius  says,  that 
Polycarp  was  familiarly  conversant  witli  the  apos- 
tles, and  received  the  government  of  the  church 
of  Smyrna  from  those  who  had  been  eye-witnesses 
and  ministers  of  our  Lord.  It  makes  not  a  little 
for  the  honor  of  St.  Polycarp,  and  argues  his 
mighty  diligence  and  solicitude  for  the  good  of 
souls,  that,  (as  we  shall  note  more  anon,)  Ignatius 
passing  to  his  martyrdom,  v.rote  to  him,  and  ])ar- 
ticularly  recommended  to  him  the  inspection  and 
oversight  of  his  church  at  Antioch  ;  knowing  him, 
(says  Eusebius,)  to  be  truly  an  apostolical  m.an, 
and  being  assured  that  lie  would  use  liis  utmost 
care  and  fidelity  in  that  matter.  Tlie  author  of 
the  Alexandrian  (Chronicle  ti^lls  us,  that  it  was  tlie 
bisiiop  of  Smyrna  (who  could  not,  well  be  any  otlier 
than  St.  Polycarp)  to  whom  St.  John  committed 
the  tutorage  and  education  of  the  young  man, 
whom  he  took  up  in  his  visitation,  who  ran  away, 
and  became  captain  of  a  company  of  loose  and 
debauched  highwaymen,  and  was  afterwards  re- 
duced and  reclaimed  by  that  apostle.  But  seeing 
Clemens  Alexandrinus,  who  relates  the  story,  seti? 
down  neither  the  name  of  the  bishop,  nor  the  city. 


though  he  confesses  there  were  some  that  made 
mention  of  it ;  nor  is  this  circumstance  taken 
notice  of  by  any  other  ancient  writer,  nor  that 
bishop's  neglecting  of  his  charge  well  consistent 
with  St.  Polycarp's  care  and  industry,  I  shall 
leave  the  story  as  I  find  it.  Though  it  cannot  be 
denied  but  that  Smyrna  was  near  lo  Epiiesus,  as 
St.  Clemens  says  that  city  also  was,  and  that  St. 
John  seems  to  have  had  a  more  than  ordinary  re- 
gard to  that  church  ;  it  being,  next  Ephesus,  the 
first  of  those  seven  famous  Asiaii  churches  to 
wiiom  lie  directed  his  epistles,  and  St.  Polycarp 
this  time  bishop  of  it :  for  tliat  he  was  "  that  angel 
of  the  church  at  Smyrna,"  to  whom  that  apoca- 
lyptical epistle  was  sent,  is  not  only  highly  proba- 
ble, but  by  a  learned  man  put  past  all  question.  I 
must  confess  that  the  character  and  circumstances 
ascribed  by  St.  John  to  the  angel  of  that  church 
seem  very  exactly  to  agree  with  Polycarj),  and 
with  no  other  bishop  of  that  churcli  (about  those 
times  especially)  thatvi'e  read  of  in  the  history  of  the 
churcli.  And  whoever  compares  the  account  of 
St.  Polycarp's  martyrdom,  with  the  notices  and 
intimations  which  the  Apocalypse  there  gives  of 
that  person's  sufllerings  and  death,  will  find  the 
prophecy  and  the  event  suit  together.  That  which 
may  seem  to  make  most  against  it,  is  the  long 
time  of  his  presidency  over  that  see :  seeing  by 
this  account  he  must  sit  at  least  seventy-four  years 
i  bishop  of  that  church,  from  the  latter  end  of  Do- 
I  mitian's  reign  (when  the  Apocalypse  was  written) 
i  to  the  persecution  under  M.  Aurelius,  when  he 
j  suffered.  To  which  no  other  solution  needs  to  be 
given,  than  that  his  great,  nay  extreme  age  at 
I  the  time  of  liis  death,  renders  it  not  at  all  impro- 
i  bable ;  especially  when  we  find,  several  ages  after, 
I  that  Remigius,  bishop  of  Rhemes,  sat  seventy-four 
years  bishop  of  that  place. 

I  '•].  It  v/as  not  many  years  after  St.  Joim's  death, 
j  when  the  persecution  under  Trajan  began  to  be 
I  reinforced,  wherein  the  eastern  parts  had  a  very 
!  large  share,  ann.  Chr.  107.  Ignatius  was  con- 
I  demned  by  the  emperor,  at  Antioch,  and  sentenced 
]  to  be  transported  to  Rome,  in  order  to  his  execu- 
I  tion.  In  his  voyage  thither  he  put  in  at  Smyrna, 
j  to  salute  and  converse  with  Polycarp  ;  these  holy 
men  mutually  comforting  and  encouraging  each 
other,  and  conferring  together  about  the  affairs  of 
'  the  church.  From  Smyrna,  Ignatius  and  his  coni- 
!  pany  sailed  to  Troas,  whence  he  sent  back  an 
I  epistle  to  the  church  of  Smyrna,  wherein  lie  en- 
I  deavors  to  fortify  them  against  the  errors  of  the 
j  times,  which  had  crept  in  amongst  them ;  espe- 
cially against  those  who  undermined  our  Lord's 
•  humanity,  and  denied  liis  coming  in  the  flesh,  af- 
firming him  to  have  suffered  only  in  an  imaginary 
I  and  phantastic  body.  An  opinion  (which  as  it  de- 
served) he  severely  censures,  and  strongly  refutes. 
He  further  presses  tiiem  to  a  due  observance  and 
regard  of  their  bishop,  and  those  spiritual  guides 
J  and  ministers  which,  under  him,  were  set  over 
I  them  ;  and  that  they  would  despatch  a  messenger 
on  purpose  to  the  church  of  Antioch,  to  congratu- 
late that  peace  and  tranquillity  wliich  then  began 
I  to  be  restored  to  them.  Besides  this,  he  wrote 
j  particularly  to  St.  Polycarp,  whom  he  knew  to  be 
j  a  man  of  an  apostolic  temper,  a  person  of  singu- 
lar faithfulness  and  integrity ;  recommending  to 
I  him  the  care  and  superintendency  of  liis  disconst*- 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


14«J 


late  church  of  Antioch.  In  the  epistle  itself,  as 
extant  at  tliis  day,  there  are  many  short  and  use- 
ful rules  and  precepts  of  life,  especially  such  as 
concern  the  pastoral  and  episcopal  office.  And 
here  again  he  renews  his  request  concerning  An- 
tioch, that  a  messenger  might  be  sent  from  Smyrna 
to  that  church,  and  that  St.  Polycarp  would  write 
to  other  churches  to  do  the  like  :  a  thing  which 
lie  would  have  done  himself,  had  not  his  hasty  de- 
parture from  Troas  prevented  him.  And  more 
than  this,  we  find  not  concerning  Polycarp  for 
many  years  after,  till  some  unhappy  differences  in 
the  church  brouglit  him  upon  the  public  stage. 

4.  It  happened  that  the  quartodeciman  contro- 
versy about  the  observation  of  Easter,  began  to 
grow  very  high  between  the  eastern  and  western 
churches  ;  each  standing  very  stifly  upon  their  own 
way,  and  justifying  themselves  by  apostolical  prac- 
tice and  tradition.  That  this  fire  might  not  break 
out  into  a  greater  flame,  St.  Polycarp  undertakes 
a  journey  to  Rome,  to  interpose  with  those  who 
were  the  main  supports  and  champions  of  the  op- 
posite party,  and  gave  life  and  spirit  to  the  contro- 
versy. Though  the  exact  time  of  his  coming 
Jiither  cannot  precisely  be  defined,  yet  will  it  in  a 
great  measure  depend  upon  Anicetus's  succession 
to  that  see,  in  whose  time  he  came  thither.  Now, 
evident  it  is,  that  almost  all  the  ancient  catalogues 
place  him  before  Soter,  and  next  to  Pius,  v/hom  he 
succeeded.  This  succession  Eusebius  places  ann. 
Chr.  151 ;  a  computation  certainly  much  truer 
than  that  of  Baronius,  who  places  it  in  the  year 
167 ;  and  consonantly  to  this  the  Chronicle  of 
Alexandria  places  St.  Polycarp's  coming  to  Rome, 
ann.  Chr.  158,  Anton.  Imp.  21.  It  is  true  indeed, 
that  in  two  ancient  catalogues  of  the  bishops  of 
Rome,  set  down  by  Optatus  and  St.  Augustine, 
Anicetus  is  set  before  Pius,  and  made  immediately 
to  succeed  Hyginus ;  by  whicii  account  he  must 
be  removed  fifteen  years  higher,  for  so  long  Euse- 
bius positively  says  Pius  sat.  And  metlhnks  it 
seems  to  look  a  little  this  way,  that  Eusebius  hav- 
ing given  an  account  of  the  emperor  Antoninus 
Pius's  rescript  in  behalf  of  the  Christians,  (grant- 
ed by  him  in  his  third  consulship,  ann.  Chr.  140, 
or  thereabouts,)  immediately  adds,  that  about  tiie 
time  of  the  things  spoken  of,  Anicetus  governed 
the  church  of  Rome,  and  Polycarp  came  tliither 
upon  this  errand  ;  the  late  peace  and  indulgence 
granted  to  the  Christians  probably  administering 
both  opportunity  and  encouragement  to  liis  jour- 
ney. But  seeing  tliis  scheme  of  times  contradicts 
Eusebius's  plain  and  positive  account  in  other 
places,  and  that  most  ancient  catalogues,  especially 
that  of  Iraneeus  and  Hegesippus  (who  both  lived 
and  were  at  Rome  in  the  time  of  Anicetus  him- 
self) constantly  place  Anicetus  next  to  Pius,  I 
dare  not  disturb  this  ancient  and  almost  uncon- 
trolled account  of  things,  till  I  can  meet  with  bet- 
ter evidence  for  this  matter.  But  whenever  it  was, 
over  he  came  to  Anicetus,  to  confer  with  him  about 
this  affair  ;  which  makes  me  the  more  wonder  at 
the  learned  Monsieur  Valois,  who  with  so  pe- 
remptory a  confidence  denies  that  Polycarp  came 
to  Rome  upon  this  errand;  and  that' it  was  not 
the  difference  about  the  paschal  solemnity,  but 
some  other  controversies  that  brought  him  thither, 
when  as  Ireneeus's  express  words  are,  (if  Euse- 
bius rightly  represent  them,)  that  he  came  to 


Rome  to  confer  and  discourse  with  Anicetus,  "by 
reason  of  a  certain  controversy  concerning  the 
day  whereon  Easter  was  to  be  celebrated."  It  is 
true,  he  says  that  they  differed  a  little  about  some 
other  things  ;  but  this  hindered  not,  but  that  the 
other  was  the  main  errand  and  inducement  of  his 
voyage  thither :  though  even  about  that,  (as  he 
adds.)  there  was  no  great  contention  between 
them  ;  for  those  holy  and  blessed  souls,  knowing 
the  main  and  vital  parts  of  religion  not  to  be  con- 
cerned in  rituals  and  external  observances,  mutu- 
ally saluted  and  embraced  each  other.  They  could 
not  indeed  so  satisfy  one  another,  as  that  either 
would  quit  the  customs  which  they  had  observed, 
but  were  content  still  to  retain  their  own  senti- 
ments, without  violating  that  charity  which  was 
the  great  and  common  law  of  their  religion.  In 
token  whereof  they  communicated  together  at  the 
holy  sacrament ;  and  Anicetus,  to  put  the  greater 
honor  upon  St.  Polycarp,  gave  him  leave  to  con- 
secrate the  eucharist  in  his  own  church :  after 
which  they  parted  peaceably ;  each  side,  though 
retaining  their  ancient  rites,  yet  maintaining  tlie 
I  peace  and  communion  of  the  church.  The  ancient 
j  Synodicon  tells  us,  that  a  provincial  synod  was 
I  held  at  Rome  about  this  matter,  by  Anicetus, 
Polycarp,  and  ten  other  bishops,  where  it  was  de- 
\  creed  that  Easter  should  not  be  kept  at  the  time, 
I  nor  after  the  rites  and  manner  of  the  Jews,  but  be 
celebrated  on  the  eminent  and  great  Lord  's-day 
I  that  followed  after  it.  But  improbable  it  is  tiiat 
I  St.  Polycarp  should  give  his  vote  to  any  such  de- 
j  termination,  when  we  know  that  he  could  not 
agree  with  Anicetus  in  tliis  controversy,  and  that 
he  left  Rome  with  the  same  judgment  and  prac- 
tice herein  wherewith  he  came  thither. 
1  5.  During  his  stay  at  Rome  he  mainly  set  him- 
i  self  to  convince  gainsayers,  testifying  the  truth  of 
!  those  doctrines  v^^hich  he  had  received  from  the 
I  apostles  ;  whereby  he  reclaimed  many  to  the  com- 
!  inunion  of  the  .church,  who  had  been  infected  and 
overrun  with  errors,  especially  the  pernicious  here- 
I  sies  of  Marcion  and  Valentinus.  And  when  Mar- 
i  cion  meeting  him  one  day  accidentally  in  the 
j  street,  and  ill  resenting  it  that  he  did  not  salute 
!  him,  called  out  to  him,  "  Polycarp,  own  us  ;"  the 
!  good  man  replied  in  a  just  indignation,  "I  own 
!  thee  to  be  the  first-born  of  Satan."  So  religiously 
cautious  (says  Irenteus)  were  the  apostles  and  their 
followers,  not  so  much  as  by  discourse  to  commu- 
nicate with  any  that  did  adulterate  and  corrupt 
the  truth ;  observing  St.  Paul's  rule.  "  A  man  that ' 
is  a  heretic,  after  the  first  and  second  admonition, 
reject ;  knowing  that  he  that  is  such  is  perverted,' 
and  sinneth,  being  condemned  of  himself."  Indeed 
St.  Polycarp's  pious  and  devout  mind  was  ferment- 
ed with  a  mighty  zeal  and  abhorrency  of  the 
poisonous  and  pestilent  principles,  which  in  those 
times  corrupted  the  simplicity  of  the  Christian 
faith  ;  insomuch,  that  when  at  any  time  he  heard 
any  thing  of  that  nature,  he  was  wont  presently  to 
stop  his  ears,  and  cry  out,  "  Good  God,  into  what 
times  hast  thou  reserved  me,  that  I  should  hear 
such  things !"  immediately  avoiding  the  place 
where  he  had  heard  any  such  discourse.  And  the 
same  dislike  he  manifested,  in  all  the  epistles  which 
he  wrote  either  to  neighbor-churches,  or  particular  i 
persons,  v/arning  them  of  errors,  and  exhorting! 
them  to  continue  steadfast  in  the  truth.  This  zeal. 


150 


LIVES    OP    THE    APOSTLES. 


against  heretics,  and  especially  his  carriage  to- 
wards Marcion,  we  may  suppose  he  learnt  in  a 
jyreat  measure  from  St.  John,  of  whom  he  was 
wont  to  tell,  that  going  into  a  bath  at  Ephesus,  and 
espying  Cerinthus  the  heresiarch  there,  he  pre- 
sently started  back  :  "  Let  us  begone,"  said  he  to 
his  companions,  "lest  the  bath  wherein  there  is 
Cerinthus,  the  enemy  of  the  truth,  fall  upon  our 
heads."  This  passage  (says  Irenseus)  some  yet 
alive  heard  from  St.  Polycarp's  own  mouth,  and 
himself  no  doubt  among  the  rest ;  for  so  he  tells 
us  elsewhere,  that  in  his  youtli,  when  he  was  with 
St.  Polycarp  in  the  lesser  Asia,  he  took  such  par- 
ticular notice  of  things,  that  he  perfectly  remem- 
bered the  very  place  where  he  used  to  sit  while 
he  discoursed,  his  goings  out  and  coming  in,  the 
shape  of  his  body,  and  the  manner  of  his  life,  his 
discourses  to  the'  people,  and  the  account  he  was 
wont  to  give  of  his  familiar  converse  with  St.  John, 
and  others  who  had  seen  our  Lord,  whose  sayings 
he  rehearsed,  and  whatever  they  had  told  him  con- 
cerning our  Saviour,  concerning  his  miracles  and 
his  doctrine,  which  themselves  had  either  seen  or 
heard,  agreeing  exactly  with  the  relations  of  the 
sacred  history.  All  which  Irenceus  tells  us  he 
particularly  took  notice  of,  and  faithfully  treasured 
them  up  in  his  mind,  and  made  them  part  of  iiis 
constant  meditation.  These  are  all  tlie  material 
remarks  which  I  find  among  tlie  ancients  concern- 
ing Polycarp,  during  tlie  time  of  his  government 
of  the  church  at  Smyrna.  Indeed  there  are  seve- 
ral miracles  and  particular  passages  of  his  life,  re- 
lated by  tlie  above-mentioned  Pionius,  which  tend 
infinitely  to  exalt  the  honor  of  this  holy  man.  But 
seeing  the  author  is  obscure,  and  that  we  can  have 
no  reasonable  satisfaction  who  iie  was,  and  whence 
he  borrowed  his  notices  and  accounts  of  things,  I 
choose  rather  to  suspend  my  belief,  than  to  enter- 
tain the  reader  with  those  (at  best  uncertain)  re- 
lations which  he  lias  given  us. 

6.  In  tlie  reign  of  M.  Antoninus  and  L.  Verus, 
began  a  severe  persecution  (whether  fourtJi  or 
fifth,  let  others  inquire)  against  the  Christians. 
Melito,  bishop  of  Sardis,  who  lived  at  that  time, 
and  dedicated  his  apology  to  the  emperors,  making 
mention  of  new  edicts  and  decrees  which  the  em- 
perors had  issued  out  through  Asia,  by  virtue 
whereof  impudent  and  greedy  informers  spoiled 
and  vexed  tiie  innocent  Christians.  But  the  storm 
increased  into  a  more  violent  tempest  about  the 
seventh  year  of  their  reign,  ann.  Chr.  167,  when 
the  emperor  Marcus  Antoninus,  designing  an  ex- 
pedition against  the  Marcomani,  the  terror  of 
whom  had  sufficiently  awakened  them  at  Rome, 
summoned  the  priests  togetlier,  and  began  more 
solemnly  to  celebrate  their  religious  rites  ;  and  no 
doubt  but  he  was  told  that  there  was  no  better 
way  to  propitiate  and  atone  the  gods,  than  to  bear 
hard  upon  the  Ciu-istians,  generally  looked  upon 
as  the  most  open  and  hateful  enemies  to  their 
gods.  And  now  it  was  that  St.  Polycarp,  after  a 
long  and  dihgent  discharge  of  his  duty  in  his  epis- 
copal station,  received  iiis  crown.  So  vastly  wide 
of  the  mark  are  the  later  Greeks,  making  him,  in 
their  public  offices  to  sutfer  martyrdom  under  the 
Decian  persecution.  Nor  much  nearer  is  that  of 
Socrates,  (however  he  fell  into  the  error,)  who 
tells  us  that  he  was  martyred  under  Gordianus  ; 
mistakes  so  extravagant,  that  there  needs  no  more 


,  to  confute  them  than  to  mention  them.  Concern- 
I  ing  his  sufferings  and  martyrdom,  we  have  a  full 
I  and  particular  relation  in  a  letter  of  the  church  of 
j  Smyrna,  written  not  long  after  his  death  to  the 
I  church  of  Pliilomelum,  (or  more  truly  Philadel- 
phia,) and  in  the  nature  of  an  encyclical  epistle, 
to  all  the  diocesses  (irapoiKiati)  of  the  holy  catholic 
church  ;  the  far  greatest  part  whereof  Eusebius 
has  inserted  into  his  history,  leaving  out  only  the 
beginning  and  the  end,  though  the  entire  epistle, 
together  with  its  ancient  version,  or  rather  para- 
!  phrase,  is  since  published  by  bishop  Usher.  It 
I  was  penned  by  Eauristus  ;  and  afterwards  (as  ap- 
pears by  their  several  subscriptions  at  the  end  of 
I  it)  transcribed  out  of  Irenajus's  copy  by  Caius, 
contemporary  and  familiar  with  Irenteus ;  out  of 
his  by  one  Socrates,  at  Corinth ;  and  from  his  by 
I  Pionius,  who  had  with  great  diligence  found  it 
;  out.  A  piece  it  is  that  challenges  a  singular 
!  esteem  and  reverence  both  for  the  subject  matter, 
[  and  the  antiquity  of  it,  with  which  Scaliger  thinks 
1  every  serious  and  devout  mind  must  needs  be  so 
I  affected,  as  never  to  think  it  has  enough  of  it ; 
[  professing,  for  his  own  part,  that  he  never  met 
!  with  any  thing  in  all  the  history  of  the  church, 
I  with  the  reading  whereof  he  was  more  trans- 
'  ported,  so  that  he  seemed  no  longer  to  be  himself. 
Wliich  effect  that  it  may  have  upon  the  pious, 
j  well-disposed  reader,  we  shall  present  him  with 
this  following  account. 

7.  The  persecution  growing  hot  at  Smyrna,  and 
j  many  having  already  sealed  their  confession  with 
their  blood,  the  general  outcry  was  "  away  with 
the  impious,"  (or  the  atheists,  such  they  generally 
called  and  accounted  the  Christians,)  "let  Poly- 
carp be  sought  for."  The  good  man  was  not  dis- 
turbed at  the  news,  but  resolved  to  endure  the 
j  brunt ;  till  his  friends,  knowing  his  singular  use- 
fulness, and  that  our  Lord  had  given  leave  to  his 
disciples,  when  persecuted  in  one  city  to  flee  to 
another,  prevailed  with  him  to  withdraw  into  a 
neighboring  village ;  where,  with  a  few  compa- 
nions, he  continued  day  and  night  in  prayer,  ear- 
nestly interceding  with  Heaven  (as  aforetime  it 
had  ever  been  his  custom)  for  the  peace  and  tran- 
quillity of  all  the  churches  in  the  world.  Three 
days  before  his  apprehension,  falling  at  night,  as 
lie  was  at  prayer,  into  a  trance,  he  dreamed  that 
his  pillow  was  on  fire,  and  burned  to  ashes  ;  which 
when  he  awakened,  he  told  his  friends  was  a  pro- 
phetic presage  that  he  should  be  burned  alive  for 
the  cause  of  Christ.  In  the  mean  time  he  was 
every  where  narrowly  sought  for  ;  upon  notice 
whereof  his  friends  persuaded  him  to  retire  into 
another  village ;  whither  he  was  no  sooner  come, 
but  his  enemies  were  at  hand,  who  seizing  upon 
a  couple  of  youths,  (one  of  whom  by  stripes  they 
forced  to  a  confession,)  were  by  them  conducted 
to  his  lodging.  Entering  the  house  at  evening, 
they  perceived  him  to  be  in  bed  in  an  upper  room ; 
and  though,  upon  notice  before-hand  of  their 
coming,  he  might  easily  have  saved  himself  by 
slipping  into  another  house,  yet  he  refused,  say- 
ing, "  The  will  of  the  Lord'  be  done."  Under- 
standing his  persecutors  were  there,  he  came 
down  and  saluted  them  with  a  very  cheerful  and 
gentle  countenance ;  insomuch,  that  they  who  had 
not  hitherto  known  him,  wondered  to  behold  so 
venerable  a  person,  of  so  great  age,  and  so  grave 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


151 


and  composed  a  presence  ;  and  what  needed  all 
this  stir  to  hunt  and  take  this  poor  old  man  ?  He 
nothing  concerned,  ordered  a  table  to  be  spread, 
and  provisions  to  be  set  upon  it,  inviting  them  to 
partake  of  them,  and  only  requesting  for  himself, 
tliat  in  the  mean  while  he  might  have  one  hour 
for  prayer.  Leave  being  granted,  he  rose  up,  and 
betook  himself  to  his  devotions,  wherein  he  had 
such  mighty  assistances  of  divine  grace,  that  he 
continued  praying  nearly  two  hours  together, 
heartily  recommending  to  God  the  case  of  all  his 
friends  and  acquaintances,  whether  great  or  little, 
honorable  or  ignoble,  and  the  state  of  the  catholic 
church  throughout  the  world  ;  all  that  heard  him 
being  astonished  at  it,  and  of  them  now  repenting 
that  so  divine  and  venerable  an  old  man  should  be 
put  to  death. 

8.  His  prayer  being  ended,  and  they  ready  to 
depart,  he  was  set  upon  an  ass ;  and  (it  being 
then  the  great  sabbath  ;  though  what  that  great 
sabbath  was,  learned  men,  I  believe,  will  hardly 
agree  till  the  coming  of  Ehas)  conducted  him  into 
the  city.  As  they  were  upon  the  road,  they  were 
met  by  Herod  and  his  father  Nicetes,  avIio  indeed 
were  the  main  springs  of  the  persecution,  and  had 
put  the  tumult  into  motion.  This  Herod  was  an 
irenarcha,  one  of  those,  ad  quos  tuendcc  publiccc 
pads  vigilanlia  perlinebai,  as  St.  Augustine  de- 
scribes them:  their  otSce  was  much  the  same 
with  that  of  our  modern  justices  of  the  peace, 
they  being  set  to  guard  the  provinces,  and  to  se- 
cure the  public  peace  and  quietness  within  their 
several  jurisdictions ;  to  prevent  and  suppress 
riots  and  tumults,  robberies  and  rapines,  and  to 
enquire  into  the  companions  and  receivers  of  all 
such  persons,  and  to  transmit  to  the  magistrates 
the  e.vaminations  and  notices  which  they  had  re- 
ceived of  such  matters.  They  were  appointed 
either  by  the  emperor  himself,  or  the  praefecti 
praetorio,  or  the  decurious  ;  and  at  this  time  the 
custom  in  the  provinces  of  the  lesser  Asia  was, 
that  every  city  did  yearly  send  ten  of  the  names 
of  their  principal  persons  to  the  governor  of  the 
province,  who  choose  out  one  to  be  the  irenarcha, 
the  keeper  or  justice  of  the  peace.  Being  after- 
wards found  grievous  and  troublesome  to  the  peo- 
ple, they  were  takc.i  away  by  a  law  of  the 
younger  Theodosius,  though  the  office  remained 
under  another  name.  This  office  at  Smyrna  v/as 
at  this  time  managed  by  this  Herod,  whom  Baro- 
iiius  conjectures  to  be  Herodes  Atticus,  a  man  of 
consular  dignity,  and  of  great  learning  and  elo- 
(]uence,  and  who  had  been  tutor  to  the  present 
emperor.  Certain  it  is,  that  that  Herod  governed 
in  the  free  cities  of  Asia,  and  resided  sometimes 
at  Smyrna  :  though  it  cramps  the  conjecture,  that 
the  name  of  that  Herod's  father  was  Atticus,  of 
this  Nicetes;  unless  we  will  suppose  him  to  have 
liad  two  names.  But  whoever  he  be,  a  great 
enemy  he  was  to  Polycarp,  whom  meeting  upon 
the  way,  he  took  him  up  into  his  chariot,  where  both 
he  and  his  father,  by  plausible  insinuations,  sought 
to  undermine  his  constancy;  asking  him  what 
great  harm  there  was  in  saying.  My  lord  the  em- 
peror, and  in  sacrificing,  by  which  means  he  might 
escape.  This  was  an  unusual  way  of  attempting 
the  Christians ;  not  that  they  made  any  scruple 
to  acknowledge  the  emperor  to  be  their  lord, 
(none  were  so  forward,  so  earnest  to  pav  all  due 
101  (24) 


subjection  and  reverence  to  princes,)  but  because 
they  knew  that  the  Romans,  too  apt  to  flatter  the 
ambition  of  their  emperors  into  a  fondly  usurped 
divinity,  by  that  title  usually  understood  God,  as 
TertuUian  tells  them  ;  in  any  other  notion  of  the 
word,  they  could  as  freely  as  any  call  him  Lord ; 
though,  as  he  adds,  even  Augustus  himself  mo- 
destly forbade  that  title  to  be  ascribed  to  him. 

9.  St.  Polycarp  returned  no  answer  to  their 
demand,  till  importunately  urging  him,  he  replied, 

i  that  he  would  not  at  any  rate  comply  with  their 
persuasions.  Frustrated  of  the  ends  whicii  they 
had  upon  him,  they  now  lay  aside  the  vizor  of 
their  dissembled  friendship,  and  turn  their  kind- 
ness into  scorn  and  reproaches ;  thrusting  him 
out  of  the  chariot  with  so  much  violence,  that  he 
bruised  his  thigh  with  the  fall.  Whereat  nothing 
daunted,  as  if  he  had  received  no  hurt,  he  cheer- 
fully hastened  on  to  the  place  of  his  execution, 
under  the  conduct  of  his  guard ;  whither  when 
they  were  come,  and  a  confused  noise  and  tumult 
was  arisen,  a  voice  came  from  heaven,  (heard  by 
many,  but  none  seen  who  spake  it,)  saying,  "Poly- 
carp, be  strong,  and  quit  thyself  like  a  man." 
Immediately  he  was  brought  before  the  public  tri- 
bunal, where  a  great  shout  was  made ;  all  re- 
joicing that  he  was  apprehended.  The  proconsul 
(whose  name  was  L.  Statins  Quadratu?,)  this 
very  year,  as  Aristides,  the  orator,  who  lived  at 
this  time  at  Smyrna,  informs  us,  the  proconsul  of 
Asia,  (as  not  long  before  he  had  been  consul  at 
Rome,)  asked  him,  whether  he  was  Polycarp; 
which  being  confessed,  he  began  to  persuade  him 
to  recant.  "Regard,"  said  he,  "  thy  great  age  ; 
swear  by  the  genius  of  Cssar ;  repent,  and  say 
with  us.  Take  away  the  impious."  These  were 
II  avvii&£i  avToi;,  as  my  authors  truly  observe,  their 
usual  terms  and  proposals  to  Christians,  who  stoutly 
refused  to  swear  by  the  emperor's  genius ;  upon 
which  account  the  heathens  generally  traduced 
them  as  traitors  and  enemies  to  the  state  ;  though, 
to  wipe  of  that  charge,  they  openly  professed, 
that  though  they  could  not  sv.^ear  by  the  fortune 
of  the  emperor,  (their  genii  being  accounted 
deities,  whom  the  Christians  knew  to  be  but  de- 
mons, and  cast  out  at  every  turn,)  yet  they  scrupled 
not  to  swear  by  the  emperor's  safety,  a  thing  more 
august  and  sacred  than  all  the  genii  in  the  world. 

10.  The  holy  martyr  looking  about  the  Stadium, 
and  with  a  severe  and  angry  countenance  behold- 
ing the  crowd,  beckoned  to  them  with  his  hand, 
sighed  and  looked  up  to  heaven,  saying,  (though 
quite  in  another  sense  than  they  intended,)  "Take 
away  the  impious."  The  proconsul  still  persuaded 
him  to  swear,  with  promise  to  release  him ;  withal 
urging  him  to  blaspheme  Christ;  for  with  that 
temptation  they  were  wont  to  assault  Christians, 
and  thereby  to  try  the  sincerity  of  their  renega- 
des ;  a  course  which  Pliny  tells  us  he  observed 
towards  apostate  Christians ;  though  he  withal 
confesses,  that  none  of  them  that  were  really 
Christians  could  ever  be  brought  to  it.  The  mo- 
tion was  resented  with  a  noble  scorn,  and  drew 
from  Polycarp  this  generous  confession  :  "  Four- 
score and  six  years  I  have  served  him,  and  he 
never  did  me  any  harm ;  how  then  shall  I  now  blas- 

i  pheme  my  King  and  my  Saviour  V  But  nothing 
i  will  satisfy  a  malicious  misguided  zeal :  the  pro- 
'  consul  still  importuned  him  to  swear  by  Cesar's 


152 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


genius  ;  to  whom  he  replied,  "  Since  you  are  so 
vainly  ambitious  that  I  should  swear  by  the  em- 
peror's genius,  as  you  call  it,  as  if  you  knew  not 
who  I  am ;  hear  my  free  confession :  I  am  a 
Christian.  If  you  have  a  mind  to  learn  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  appoint  me  a  time,  and  I  will  instruct 
you  in  it."  The  proconsul  advised  him  to  per- 
suade the  people  :  he  answered,  "  To  you  I  rather 
choose  to  address  my  discourse  ;  for  we  are  com- 
manded by  the  laws  of  our  religion,  to  give  to 
princes  and  the  powers  ordained  by  God,  all  that 
due  honor  and  reverence  tliat  is  not  prejudicial 
and  contrary  to  the  precepts  of  religion.  As  for 
them,  (meaning  the  common  herd,)  I  think  them 
not  competent  judges,  to  whom  I  should  apologize, 
or  give  an  account  of  my  faith." 

11.  The  proconsul  now  saw  it  was  in  vain  to 
use  any  further  persuasives  and  entreaties  ;  and 
therefore  betook  himself  to  severer  arguments. 
"I  have  wild  beasts  at  hand,"  said  he,  "  to  which 
I  will  cast  thee,  unless  thou  recant."  "  Call  for 
them,"  cried  the  martyr,  "  for  we  are  immutably 
resolved  not  to  change  the  better  for  the  worse  ; 
accounting  it  fit  and  comely  only  to  turn  from 
vice  to  virtue."  "  Since  thou  makest  so  light  of 
wild  beasts,"  added  the  proconsul,  "  I  have  a  fire 
tliat  shall  tame  thee,  unless  thou  repent."  "  Thou 
threatenest  me  with  a  fire,"  answered  Polycarp, 
"that  burns  for  an  hour,  and  is  presently  extinct, 
but  art  ignorant,  alas !  of  the  fire  of  eternal  dam- 
nation, and  the  judgment  to  come,  reserved  for  the 
wicked  in  the  otiier  world.  But  v/hy  delayest 
thou  7  bring  forth  whatever  thou  hast  a  mind  to." 
This  and  much  more  he  spake  with  a  pleasant 
and  cheerful  confidence  ;  and  a  divine  grace  was 
conspicuous  in  his  very  looks,  so  far  was  he  from 
cowardly  sinking  under  the  great  threatenings 
made  against  him.  Yea,  the  proconsul  himself 
was  astonished  at  it:  th.ough  finding  no  good 
could  be  done  upon  him,  he  commanded  the  crier,  in 
the  middle  of  the  stadium,  thrice  to  make  open  pro- 
clamation, (as  was  the  manner  of  the  Romans  in 
aU  capital  trials,)  "  Polycarp  has  confessed  him- 
self a  Christian."  Whereat  the  whole  multitude, 
both  of  Jews  and  Gentiles,  that  were  present, 
(and  probably  it  is,  that  the  common  council  or 
assembly  of  Asia,  might  about  this  time  be  held 
at  Smyrna,  for  the  celebration  of  their  common 
shows  and  sports  ;  for  that  it  was  sometimes  held 
here,  is  evident  from  an  ancient  inscription  making 
mention  of  it,)  gave  a  mighty  shout,  crying  out 
aloud,  "  this  is  tiie  great  doctor  of  Asia,  and  the 
father  of  the  Christians  ;  this  is  the  destroyer  of 
our  gods,  who  teaches  men  not  to  do  sacrifice,  or 
worship  the  deities." 

12.  The  cry  being  a  little  over,  they  immedi- 
ately addressed  themselves  to  Philip,  the  asiarch. 
These  asiarchs  were  Gentile  priests  belonging  to 
the  conmionalty  of  Asia,  yearly  chosen  at  the 
common  council  or  assembly  of  Asia,  to  the  num- 
ber of  about  ten,  (whereof  one  was  principal,)  out 
of  the  names  returned  by  the  several  cities.  It 
was  an  office  of  great  honor  and  credit,  but  withal 
of  great  expense  and  charge  ;  they  being  obliged 
to  entertain  the  people  with  sights  and  sports  upon 
the  festival  solemnities;  and  therefore  it  was  not 
conferred  but  upon  the  more  wealtliy  and  substan- 
tial citizens.  In  this  place  was  Philip  at  this 
time,  whom  the  people  clamorously  requested  to 


let  a  lion  upon  the  malefactor.  Which  he  told 
them  he  could  not  do,  having  already  exhibited 
the  hunting  of  wild  beasts  with  men,  one  of  the 
famous  shows  of  the  amphitheatre.  Then  they 
unanimously  demanded,  that  he  might  be  burnt 
alive  :  a  fate  which  he  himself  from  the  vision  in 
his  dream,  had  prophetically  foretold  should  be  his 
portion.  The  thing  was  no  sooner  said  than  done, 
each  one  striving  to  bear  a  part  in  this  fatal  tra- 
gedy, with  incredible  speeed  fetching  wood  and 
faggots  from  several  places  ;  but  especially  the 
Jews  were  peculiarly  active  in  the  service  ;  malice 
to  Christians  being  almost  as  natural  to  them  as 
it  is  for  the  fire  to  burn.  The  fire  being  prepared, 
St.  Polycarp  untied  his  girdle,  laid  aside  his  gar- 
ments, and  began  to  put  off  his  shoes  ;  ministries 
which  he  before  was  not  ivont  to  be  put  to  ;  the 
Christians  ambitiously  striving  to  be  admitted  to 
do  them  for  him,  and  happy  he  that  could  first 
touch  his  body.  So  great  a  reverence  even  in  his 
younger  years  had  he  from  all  for  the  admirable 
strictness  and  regularity  of  his  holy  life. 

13.  The  officers  that  were  employed  in  his  exe- 
cution having  disposed  all  other  things,  came  ac- 
cording to  custom  to  nail  him  to  the  stake  ;  which 
he  desired  them  to  omit,  assuring  them,  that  he 
who  gave  him  strength  to  endure  the  fire,  would 
enable  him,  without  nailing,  to  stand  immovable 
in  the  liottest  flames.  So  they  only  tied  him,  who 
standing  like  a  sheep  ready  for  the  slaughter,  de- 
signed as  a  grateful  sacrifice  to  the  Almighty, 
clasping  Jiis  hands,  which  were  bound  behind  him, 
he  poured  out  his  soul  to  heaven  in  this  following 
prayer  :  "  O  Lord  God  Almighty,  the  Father  of 
thy  well-beloved  and  ever-blessed  Son,  Jesus 
Christ,  by  whom  we  have  received  the  knowledge 
of  thee  ;  the  God  of  angels,  powers,  and  of  every 
creature,  and  of  the  whole  race  of  the  righteous, 
who  live  before  thee  ;  I  bless  thee  that  thou  hast 
graciously  condescended  to  bring  me  to  this  day 
and  hour,  that  I  may  receive  a  portion  in  the 
number  of  thy  holy  martyrs,  and  drink  of  Chri.'itV 
cup,  for  the  resurrection  to  eternal  life,  bolli  oi 
soul  and  body,  in  the  incorruptibleness  of  the  lioly 
Spirit.  Into  which  number  grant  I  may  bo  re- 
ceived this  day  ;  being  found  in  thy  sight  as  a  fair 
and  acceptable  sacrifice,  such  a  one  as  thou  tiiy- 
self  hast  prepared ;  that  so  thou  mayest  accoin- 
plish  what  thou,  O  true  and  faithful  God,  hasr 
foreshov^n.  WJierefore,  I  praise  thee  for  all  thy 
mercies.  I  bless  thee,  I  glorify  thee,  through  the 
eternal  High-Priest,  thy  beloved  Son,  Jesus 
Christ;  with  whom  to  thyself  and  the  Holy 
Ghost,  be  glory  both  now  and  for  ever,  Amen." 
Which  last  words  he  pronounced  with  a  more 
clear,  audible  voice  ;  and  having  done  his  prayer, 
the  ministers  of  execution  blew  up  the  fire,  whicli 
incroating  to  a  mighty  flame,  behold  a  wonder, 
(seen,  say  my  authors,  by  us,  who  were  purposely 
reserved,  that  we  might  declare  it  to  others,) 
the  flames  disposing  themselves  into  the  reseni- 
blance  of  an  arch,  like  the  sails  of  a  ship  swelled 
with  the  wind,  gently  encircled  the  body  of  the 
martyr,  who  stood  all  the  while  in  the  midst,  not 
like  roasted  flesh,  but  like  gold  or  silver  purified  in 
the  furnace  ;  his  body  sending  forth  a  deliglnfui 
fragrancy,  which  like  frankincense,  or  some  other 
costly  spices,  presented  itself  to  our  senses. 
14.  How  iilind  and  incorrigibly  obstinate  is  un- 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES 


153 


belief!  The  infidels  were  so  far  from  being  con- 
vinced, tiiat  they  were  ratlier  exasperated  by  the 
miracle ;  commandin(,r  a  spearman,  one  of  tliose 
who  were  wont  to  despatch  wild  beasts  wJien  they 
became  outrageous,  to  go  near  and  run  him 
through  with  a  sword  ;  wliich  he  had  no  sooner 
done,  but  such  a  vast  quantity  of  blood  flowed 
fi-om  the  wound,  as  extinguished  and  put  out  the 
fire  ;  together  with  which  a  dove  was  seen  to  fiy 
from  the  wounds  of  his  body,  which  some  suppose 
to  have  been  his  soul,  clothed  in  a  visible  shape 
at  tlic  time  of  its  departure  ;  though  true  it 


well  suppose  him  to  have  been  less  tlian  sixteen 
or  twenty  years  old:  besides  his  converse  with 
the  apostles  and  consecration  by  St.  John,  reason- 
ably suppose  him  of  some  competent  years ;  for 
we  cannot  think  he  would  ordain  a  youth,  or  a 
very  young  man,  bishop,  especially  of  so  great  and 
populous  a  city.  The  incomparable  primate,  from 
a  passage  in  his  epistle,  conjectures  him  to  have 
lived  (though  not  tiien  converted  to  Christianity) 
at  the  time  when  St.  Paul  wrote  liis  epistles ; 
which  if  so,  must  argue  him  to  have  been  of  a 
greater  age.     Nor  is  this  any  more  improbable 


that  this  circumstance  is  not  mentioned  in  Euse-    than  tliat  Quadratus,  the  Ciiristian  apoloo-ist,  who 
bius's   account,   and  probably  never  was  in  the    lived  under  Hadrian,  and  dedicated  his  Wloo-etic 

original.  Nor  did  the  malice  of  Satan  end  here;  he    '--'--  ■        •         •  -  i^     » 

knew  by  the  innocent  and  unblameable  course  of 
his  life,  and  the  glorious  constancy  of  his  martyr- 
dom, that  he  had  certainly  attained  the  crown  of 
immortality,  and  nothing  now  was  left  for  his  spite 
to  work  on,  but  to  deprive  them  even  of  the  ho- 
nor of  his  bones.  For  many  were  desirous  to 
liave  given  his  body  decent  and  honorable  burial, 
and  to  have  assembled  there  for  the  celebration 
of  liis  memory  ;  but  were  prevented  bv  some  who 
prompted  Nicetes,  the  father  of  Herod,  and 
brother  to  Alee,  to  advise  the  proconsul  not  to  be- 
stow his  body  upon  the  Christians  ;  lest  having 
their  crucified  master,  they  should  henceforth 
worship  Polycarpus.  A  suggestion  liov.'ever 
managed  by  the  heathens,  yet  first  contrived  and 
prompted  by  the  Jews,  whonarrowly  walclied  tlie 
Christians  when  they  would  have  taken  awav  liis 
body  from  the  place  of  execution  ;  "little  consider- 
ing (they  are  the  words  of  my  authors)  how  im- 
possible it  is  that  either  we  should  forsake  Christ, 
who  died  for  the  salvation  of  the  whole  world,  or 
that  we  should  worship  any  other.  Him  we  adore 
as  the  Son  of  God  ;  but  martyrs,  as  the  disciples 
and  followers  of  our  Lord,  we  deservedly  love  for 
their  eminent  kindness  towards  their  own  prince 
and  master,  whose  companions  and  fellow-disci- 
ples we  also  by  all  means  desire  to  be."  So  far 
were  those  primitive  and  better  ages  from  that 
undue  and  superstitious  veneration  of  the  relics 
of  martyrs  and  departed  saints,  which  after  ages 
introduced  into  the  church,  as  elsewhere  we  have 
shown  more  at  large. 

15.  The  centurion  beholding  the  perverseness 
and  obstinacy  of  the  Jews,  commanded  the  body 
to  be  placed  in  the  midst,  and  m  tlie  usual  manner 
to  be  burned  to  ashes  ;  whose  bones  the  Chris- 
tians gathered  up  as  a  choice  and  inestimable 
treasure,  and  decently  interred  them.  In  which 
place  they  resolved,  if  possible,  (and  they  prayed 
God  notliing  might  hinder  it,)  to  meet  and  cele- 
brate the  birth-day  of  his  martyrdom ;  both  to  do 
honor  to  tlie  memory  of  the  departed,  and  to  pre- 
pare and  encourage  others  hereafter  to  give  the 
like  testimony  to  the  faith.  Both  which  consider- 
ations gave  birth  and  original  to  the  Memoruc 
Martyrum,  those  solemn  anniversary  commemo- 
rations of  the  martyrs,  which  we  liave  in  another  i 
place  more  fully  shown,  were  generally  kept  -''' 
the  primitive  church.  Thus  died  this  aposf^lical 
man,  ann.  Chr.  167,  about  the  hundreth  y^ar  of 
his  age  ;  for  those  eighty-six  years,  whi^h  himself 
speaks  of,  wherein  he  had  served  Clirist,  cannot 
be  said  to  commence  from  his  birth,  but  from  his 
baptism  or  new-birth,  at  which  time  we  cannot 


to  that  emperor,  reports  ;  that  there  were  some 
of  those  whom  our  Lord  had  healed,  and  raised 
from  the  dead,  alive  even  in  his  time.  And  of 
Simeon,  successor  to  St.  James  in  the  bishopric 
of  Jerusalem,  Hegesippus  expressly  relates  that 
he  was  a  hundred  and  twenty  years  old  at  the 
time  of  his  martyrdom.  Sure  I  am  Irenteus  par- 
ticularly notes,  of  our  St.  Polycarp,  that  he  lived 
a  very  long  time,  and  was  arrived  to  an  exceeding 
great  age,  when  he  underwent  a  most  glorioua 
and  illustrious  martyrdom  for  the  faith. 

16.  He  suffered  on  the   second  of  the  month 
Xanthicus,  the  seventh  of  the  kalends  of  May  : 
though  whether  mistaken  for  tiie  seventh  of  the 
kalends  of  April,  and  so  to  be  referred  to   March 
28,  as  some  will  have  it,  or  for  the  seventh  of  the 
kalends  of  March,  and  so  to  be  adjudged  to  Fe- 
bruary 28,  as  others,  is  difficult  to  determine.     It 
shall  sufiice  to  note,  that  his  memory  is  celebrated 
by  the  Greek  church,  February  23  ;  by  the  Latin, 
January  26.    The  amphitheatre  where  lie  suffe-ed 
is  in  a  great  measure  yet  remaining;  (as  a  late 
eye-witness  and  diligent  searcher  into  antiquity  in- 
forms us  ;)  in  the  two  opposite  sides  whereof  are 
the  dens  where  the  lions  were  wont  to  be  kept. 
His  tomb  is  in  a  little  chapel,  in  the  side  of  a 
mountain,  on  the  south-east  part  of  the  city,  so- 
lemnly visited  by  the  Greeks  upon  his  festival' day ; 
and  for  the  maintenance  and  reparation  whereof, 
travellers  were  wont  to  throw  in  a  few  aspers  into 
an  earthen  pot  that  stands  there  for  that  purpose. 
How  miserable  the  state  of  this  city  is  under  the 
Turkish  yoke  at  this  day,  is  without  the  limits  of 
my  business  to  inquire.     To  look  a  little  higher  to 
the  times  we  write  of,  though  I  love  not  to  make 
severe  and  ill-natured  interpretations  of  the  actions 
of  divine  Providenc<^,  yet  I  cannot  hvA  observe, 
how  heavy  the  r^i'vine  displeasure,  not  long  after 
Polycarp's  death  fell,  as  upon  other  places,  so  more 
particular^  upon   this  city,  by  plague,  fire,  and 
earthquakes,  mentioned  by  others,  but  more  fullv 
described  by  Aristides  their  own  orator,  who  was 
contemporary  with  St.  Polycarp.  By  which  means 
their  city,  before  one  of  the  glories  and  ornaments 
of  Asia,  was  turned  into  rubbish  and  ashes,  their 
stately  ^louses  overturned,  their  temples  ruined  ; 
one  especially,  which  as  it  advanced  Asia  above 
^cher  countries,  so  gave  Smyrna  the  honor  and 
precedence  above  other  cities  of  Asia ;  their  traffic 
spoiled,  their  marts  and  ports  laid  waste,  besides 
the  great  numbers  of  people  that  lost  tiieir  lives. 
Indeed  the  fate  so  sad,  that  the  orator  was  forced 
to  give   over,  professing  himself  unable  to  de- 
scribe it. 

17.  I  cannot  better  close  tlie  story  of  Polycarp's 


154 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


martyrdom,  than  with  the  preface  which  the 
church  of  Smyrna  has  in  the  beginning  of  it,  as 
what  eminently  represents  the  illustrious  faith  and 
patience  of  those  primitive  Christians.  "  Evident 
it  is,  (say  they,)  that  all  those  martyrdoms  are 
great  and  blessed,  which  happen  by  the  will  of 
God  ;  for  it  becomes  us  Christians,  who  have  a  j 
more  divine  religion  than  others,  to  ascribe  to  God  i 
the  sovereign  disposure  of  all  events.  Who  would  ; 
not  stand  and  admire  the  generous  greatness  of  j 
their  mind,  their  singular  patience,  and  admirable  ' 
love  to  God?  who,  when  their  flesh  was  with 
scourges  so  torn  off  their  backs,  that  the  whole 
frame  and  contexture  of  their  bodies,  even  to  their 
innermost  veins  and  arteries,  migiit  be  seen,  yet 
patiently  endured  it:  insomuch  tiiat  those  who 
were  present,  pitied  and  grieved  at  the  sight  of  it, 
while  they  themselves  were  endued  with  so  in- 
vincible a  resolution,  that  none  of  them  gave  one 
sigh  or  groan  ;  the  holy  martyrs  of  Christ  letting 
us  see,  that  at  that  time,  when  they  were  thus 
tormented,  they  were  strangers  to  their  own  bo- 
dies ;  or  rather  that  our  Lord  stood  by  them  to 
assist  and  comfort  them.  Animated  by  the  grace 
of  Christ,  they  despised  the  torments  of  men,  by 
one  short  hour  delivering  themselves  from  eternal 
miseries.  The  fire  which  their  tormentors  put 
to  them  seemed  cool  and  httle,  while  they  had  it  in 
their  eye  to  avoid  the  everlasting  and  unextin- 
guishable  flames  of  another  world  ;  their  thoughts 
being  fixed  upon  those  rewards  which  are  prepar- 
ed for  them  that  endure  to  the  end,  such  as 
"  neither  ear  hath  heard,  nor  eye  hath  seem,  nor 
hatJi  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  ;"  but  which 
were  shown  to  them  by  our  Lord,  as  being  now 
no  longer  mortals,  but  entering  upon  the  state  of 
angels.  In  like  manner  those  who  were  condemned 
to  be  devoured  by  wild  beasts,  for  a  long  time  en- 
dured the  most  grievous  tortures  :  shells  of  fishes 
were  strewed  under  their  naked  bodies,  and  they 
forced  to  lie  upon  sharp-pointed  stakes  driven  into 
the  ground,  and  several  such-like  engines  of  tor- 
ture devised  for  them,  that,  (if  possible,)  by  the 
constancy  of  their  torments,  the  enemy  might 
drive  them  to  renounce  the  faith  of  Christ.  Vari- 
ous were  the  methods  of  punishment  which  the 
devi]  did  invent ;  though,  blessed  be  God,  there 
were  not  many  Vv'hom  they  were  able  to  prevail 
upon."  And,  at  the  end  of  the  epistle,  they  par- 
ticularly remark  concerning:'  Polycarp,  that  he  was 
fiot  only  a  famous  doctor,  but  an  eminent  martyr ; 
whoso  martyrdom  all  strove  to  int'tate,  as  one  who 
by  Ivis  patience  conquered  an  unrij^'hteous  judge ; 
and  by  that  means  having  attained  ait  immortal 
crown,  was  triumphing  with  the  apostles,  £ind  all 
the  souls  of  the  rigliteous,  glorifying  God  the  Fa- 
ther, and  praising  of  our  Lord,  the  disposer  of  ou'? 
bodies,  and  the  bishop  and  pastor  of  the  catholic 
church  throughout  the  world.  Nor  were  the  Chris- 
tians the  only  persons  th^i  reverenced  his  mepiory, 
but  the  very  Gentiles  (as  Eusebius  tells)  ever 7- 
where  spoke  honorably  of  him. 

18.  As  for  his  writings,  besides  that  St.  Jerome 
mentions  the  volumes  of  Papias  and  Polycarp,  and 
the  above-mentioned  Pionius's  epistles  and  homi- 
lies, IrentEus  evidently  inti-uur^s  that  he  wrote 
several  epistles  ;  of  all  which  none  are  extant  at 
this  day,  but  the  Epistle  to  the  Philippjans,  an 
epiiUe  peculiarly  celebvc^ed  by  the?  ancients,  v,*Ty 


useful,  says  St.  Jerome,  ^aw  ^avjia^r,,  (as  Suidas 
and  Sophronius  style  it,)  a  most  admirable  epistle- 
Irenffius  gives  it  this  eulogium,  that  it  is  a  most 
perfect  and  absolute  epistle,  whence  they  that  are 
careful  of  their  salvation  may  learn  the  character 
of  his  faith,  and  the  truth  which  he  preached.  To 
which  Eusebius  adds,  that  in  this  epistle  he  makes 
use  of  some  quotations  out  of  the  first  Epistle  of 
St.  Peter.  An  observation  that  holds  good  with 
the  epistle,  as  we  have  it  at  this  day,  there  being  ; 
many  places  in  it  cited  out  of  the  first,  not  one  out  | 
of  the  second  epistle.  Photius  passed  this  just  ' 
and  true  judgment  of  it,  that  it  is  full  of  many  ad-  , 
monitions,  delivered  with  clearness  and  simplicity,  j 
according  to  the  ecclesiastical  way  and  manner  of  j 
interpretation.  It  seems  to  hold  a  great  affinity, 
both  in  style  and  substance,  with  Clemen's  Epistle 
to  the  Corinthians;  often  suggesting  the  same 
rules,  and  making  use  of  the  same  words  and 
phrases  ;  so  that  it  is  not  to  be  doubted  but  he  had 
that  excellent  epistle  particularly  in  his  eye  at  the 
writing  of  it.  Indeed  it  is  a  pious  and  truly  Chris- 
tian epistle,  furnished  with  short  and  useful  precepts 
and  rules  of  life,  and  penned  with  the  modesty  and 
simplicity  of  the  apostolic  times  ;  valued  by  the 
ancients  next  to  the  writings  of  the  holy  canon  : 
and  St.  Jerome  tells  us,  that  even  in  his  time  it 
was  read  in  Asicc  convenhi,  in  the  public  assem- 
blies of  the  Asian  church.  It  was  first  published 
in  Greek  by  P.  Halloix,  the  Jesuit,  ann.  1633,  and 
not  many  years  after  by  bishop  Usher  :  and  I  pre- 
sume the  pious  reader  will  think  it  no  unuseful  di- 
gression, if  I  here  subjoin  so  venerable  a  monu- 
ment of  the  ancient  church. 


THE    EPISTLE. 

Polycarp  and  the  presbyters  that  are  with  him,  to 
the  church  of  God  which  is  at  Philippi :  mercy 
unto  you,  and  peace  from  God  Almighty,  and 
Jesus  Christ  o:;r  Saviour,  be  multiplied. 

1.  I  REJOICED  with  you  greatly  in  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  that  ye  entertained  the  patterns  of  trup 
love,  and  (as  became  you)  conducted  onward^i 
those  who  were  bound  with  chains,  v/hich  are  tii" 
ornaments  of  saints,  and  the  crowns  of  those  that 
are  the  truly  elect  of  God,  and  of  our  Lord  ;  and 
that  the  firm  root  of  your  faith,  formerly  published, 
does  yet  remam,  and  bring  forth  fruit  in  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  who  was  pleased  to  offer  up  himself 
even  unto  death  for  our  sins  :  "  whom  God  raised 
up,  having  loosed  the  pains  of  death  :"*  "  in  whom, 
though  you  see  him  not,  ye  believe,  and  believmg 
ye  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory  ;"t 
M'hereinto  many  desire  to  enter,  knowing  that  "  by 
o-rar/e  ye  are  saved,  not  by  works,  but  by  the  will 
of  God  through  Jesus  Christ."J 

2.  "Wherefore,  girding  up  your  loins,"  II  serve 
Qod  in  fear  and  trutli,  forsaking  empty  and  vain 
talki^ff?  ^^^  ^'^^'  error  wherein  so  many  are  involv- 
ed beiisving  in  him  who  raised  up  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  fro.m  the  dead,  and  gave  him  glory,"}  and  a 


*  Acts  ii.  'M. 
II  1  Pet.  i.  13. 


tlPet.  i.8.  *Eph.ii.  8. 

§  1  Pet.  i.  21. 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


165 


throne  at  his  right  hand  ;  to  whom  all  things,  both 
in  heaven  and  in  earth,  are  put  in  subjection,  whom 
every  thing  that  lias  breath  worsliips,  who  comes 
to  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead,  whose  blood  God 
will  require  of  them  that  believe  not  in  him.  But 
he  who  raised  him  up  from  the  dead,  will  raise  up 
us  also,  if  we  do  his  will,  and  walk  in  his  com- 
mandments, and  love  what  he  loved,  abstaining 
from  all  unrighteousness,  inordinate  desire,  covet- 
ousness,  detraction,  false  witness  ;  "  not  rendering 
evil  for  evil,  or  railing  for  railing."*  or  striking  for 
striking,  or  cursing  for  curbing  ;  but  remembering 
what  the  Lord  said  when  he  taught  thus,  "Judge 
not,  that  ye  be  not  judged ;  forgive,  and  ye  shall 
be  forgiven ;  be  merciful,  that  ye  may  obtain 
mercy  :  with  what  measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be 
mjnsured  to  you  again. "f  And  that  "Blessed 
are  the  poor,  and  they  which  are  persecuted  for 
ri"-hteousness'  sake,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of 
God."]; 

3.  These  things,  brethren,  I  write  to  you  con- 
cerning righteousness,  not  of  my  own  humor,  but 
because  yourselves  did  provoke  me  to  it.  For 
neither  I,  nor  any  other  such  as  I  am,  can  attain 
to  the  wisdom  of  blessed  and  glorious  St.  Paul ; 
who  being  among  you,  and  coaversuig  personally 
with  those  who  were  then  alive,  firmly  and  accu- 
rately taught  the  word  of  truth  ;  and  when  absent, 
wrote  epistles  to  you,  by  which,  if  you  look  into 
them,  ye  may  be  built  in  the  faith  delivered  unto 
you,  wJiicli  is  the  mother  of  us  all,  being  followed 
"by  hope,  and  led  on  by  love,  both  towards  God 
and  Christ,  and  to  our  neighbor.  For  whoever 
is  inwardly  replenished  with  these  things,  has  ful- 
filled the  law  of  righteousness ;  and  he  that  is  fur- 
nished with  love,  stands  at  a  distance  from  all  sin. 
But  love  of  money  is  the  beginning  of  all  evil. — 
Knowing  therefore  that  "  we  brought  nothing  into 
the  world,  and  that  we  shall  carry  nothing  out,"l| 
let  us  arm  ourselves  with  the  armor  of  righteous- 
ness ;  and  in  the  first  place  be  instructed  ourselves 
to  walk  in  the  commands  of  the  Lord,  and  next 
leach  your  wives  to  live  in  the  faith  delivered  to 
them,  in  love,  and  chastity  ;  that  they  embrace 
their  own  husbands  with  all  integrity,  and  others 
also  with  all  temperance  and  continency ;  and  that 
they  educate  and  discipline  their  children  in  the 
fear  of  God.  The  widows,  that  they  be  sober 
and  modest  concerning  the  faith  of  the  Lord  ;  that 
tliey  incessantly  intercede  for  all,  and  keep  them- 
seves  from  all  slandering,  detraction,  false  witness, 
covetousness,  and  every  evil  work  ;  as  knowing 
that  tliey  are  the  altars  of  God,  and  that  he  ac- 
curately surveys  the  sacrifice,  and  that  nothing 
can  be  concealed  from  him,  neither  of  our  reason- 
ings, nor  thoughts,  nor  the  secrets  of  the  heart. 
Accordingly,  knowing  that  God  is  not  mocked, 
we  ought  to  walk  worthy  of  his  command,  and  of 
his  glory. 

4.  Likewise  let  the  deacons  be  unblamable  be- 
fore his  righteous  presence,  as  the  ministers  of 
God  in  Christ,  and  not  of  men  ;  not  accusers,  not 
double-tongued,  not  covetous,  but  temperate  in  all 
things  ;  compassionate,  diligent,  walking  accord- 
ing to  the  truth  of  the  Lord,  who  became  the  dea- 
con or  servant  of  all :  of  whom,  if  we  be  careful 

•  1  Pet.  iii.  9.        t  Matt.  vii.  1 ;  Luke  vi.  36,  38. 
t  Matt.  V.  3, 10.  II 1  Tim.  vi.  7. 


to  please  him  in  this  world,  we  shall  receive  the 
reward  of  the  other  life,  according  as  he  has  pro- 
mised to  raise  us  from  the  dead ;  and  if  we  walk 
worthy  of  him,  "we  believe  that  we  shall  also 
reign  with  him."  Let  the  young  men  also  be  un- 
blamable in  all  things,  studying  in  the  first  place 
to  be  chaste,  and  to  restrain  themselves  from  all 
that  is  evil.  For  it  is  a  good  thing  to  get  above 
the  lusts  of  the  world,  seeing  every  lust  wars 
against  the  spirit ;  and  that  "neither  fornicators, 
nor  effeminate,  nor  abusers  of  themselves  with 
mankind  shall  inhorit  the  kingdom  of  God,"*  nor 
whoever  commits  base  things. 

5.  Wherefore  it  is  necessary  that  ye  abstain 
from  all  these  things,  being  subject  to  the  pres- 
byters and  deacons,  as  to  (lod  and  Christ.  That 
the  virgins  also  walk  with  a  cliastc  and  undefiled 
conscience.  Let  the  presbyters  be  tender  and 
merciful,  compassionate  towards  all,  reducing  those 
that  are  in  error,  visiting  all  that  are  weak  ;  not 
neglic^ent  of  the  widow  and  the  orphan,  and  him 
that  is  poor,  but  ever  providing  what  is  honest  in 
the  sight  of  God  and  men  ;  abstaming  from  all 
wrath,  re.'^pect  of  persons,  and  unrighteous  judg- 
ment ;  being  far  from  covetousness,  not  hastily 
believing  a  report  against  any  man,  nor  rigid  in 
judgment  ;  knowing  that  we  are  all  faulty,  and 
obno.xious  to  punishment.  If  tlierefore  we  stand 
in  need  to  pray  the  Lord  that  he  would  forgive 
us,  we  ourselves  ought  also  to  forgive.  For  we 
are  before  the  eyes  of  him  who  is  Lord  and  Gotl, 
and  "  all  must  stand  before  the  judgment-seat 
of  Christ,  and  every  one  give  an  account  of  him- 
self."! Wherefore  let  us  serve  him  witii  all  fear 
and  reverence,  as  he  himself  has  commanded  us, 
and  as  the  apostles  have  preached  and  taught  us, 
and  the  prophets  who  foreshowed  the  coming  of 
our  Lord.  Bo  zealous  of  that  which  is  good,  ab- 
staining from  offences  and  false  bretiiren,  and  those 
who  bear  the  name  of  the  Lord  in  hypocrisy,  who 
seduce  and  deceive  vain  men  ;  for  "  every  one  that 
confesseth  not  that  Jesus  Christ  is  come  in  the 
flesh,  is  anti-Christ ;"+  and  he  who  doth  not  ac- 
loiowledge  the  martyrdom  of  the  cross,  is  of  the 
devil ;  and  whoever  shall  pervert  the  oracles  of 
the  Lord  to  his  private  lusts,  and  shall  say,  that 
there  is  neither  resurrection  nor  judgment  to  come, 
that  man  is  the  first-born  of  Satan.  Leaving 
therefore  the  vanity  of  many,  and  their  false  doc- 
trines, let  us  return  to  tliat  doctrine  that  from  the 
beginning  was  delivered  to  us  :  let  us  be  watchful 
in  prayers,  persevering  in  fasting  and  supplica- 
tions, beseeching  the  all-seeing  God  that  he  would 
not  lead  us  into  temptation  ;  as  the  Lord  has  said, 
"  the  spirit  indeed  is  willing  but  the  flesh  is 
weak. "II  Let  us  unweariedly  and  constantly  ad- 
here to  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  our  hope  and  the 
pledge  of  our  righteousness,  "  who  bare  our  sins 
in  his  own  body  on  the  tree,  who  did  not  sin, 
neither  was  guile  found  in  his  mouth,"}  but  en- 
dured all  things  for  our  sakes,  that  we  might  hve 
through  him.  Let  us,  then,  imitate  his  patience, 
and  if  we  suffer  for  his  name,  we  glorify  him  ;  for 
such  a  pattern  he  set  us  in  liimself,  and  thus  we 
have  believed  and  entertained. 

*  1  Cor.  vi.  9,  10.  t  Rom.  xiv.  9,  10. 

1 1  John  iv.  3;  2  Epist.  v.  7.        H  Matt.  xivi.  41. 

§  1  Pet.  ii.  2-2,  24. 


156 


LIVES    OF    THE    APOSTLES. 


6.  I  exhort  you,  therefore,  aU,  that  ye  be  obe- 
dient to  the  word  of  righteousness,  and  that  you 
exercise  all  manner  of  patience,  as  you  have  seen 
it  set  forth  before  your  eyes,  not  only  in  the  bless- 
ed Ignatius,  and  Zosiraus,  and  Rufus ;  but  in 
others  also  among  you,  and  in  Paul  himself,  and 
the  rest  of  the  apostles  ;  being  assured  that  all 
these  have  not  run  in  vain,  but  in  faith  and  righte- 
ousness ;  and  are  arrived  at  the  place  due  and 
promised  to  them  by  the  Lord,  of  wliose  sufferings 
they  were  made  partakers.  For  they  loved  not 
this  present  world,  but  him  who  both  died  and  was 
raised  up  again  by  God  for  us.  Stand  fast,  there- 
fore, in  these  things,  and  follow  the  example  of  the 
Lord ;  being  firm  and  immutable  in  the  faith, 
lovers  of  the  brethren,  and  kindly  affectionate  one 
towards  another,  united  in  the  truth,  carrying 
yourselves  meekly  to  each  other,  despising  no  man. 
When  it  is  in  your  power  to  do  good,  defer  it  not, 
for  alms  delivereth  from  death.  Be  all  of  you  sub- 
ject one  to  another,  having  your  conversation  ho- 
nest among  the  (Jentiles ;  that  both  you  yourselves 
may  receive  praise  by  your  good  works,  and  that 
God  be  not  blasphemed  through  you.  For  wo 
unto  him  by  whom  the  name  of  the  Lord  is  blas- 
phemed. Wherefore  teach  all  men  sobriety,  and 
be  yourselves  conversant  in  it. 

7.  I  am  exceedingly  troubled  for  Valens,  who 
was  sometimes  ordained  a  presbyter  among  you, 
that  he  so  little  understands  the  place  wherein  he 
was  set.  I  therefore  warn  you,  that  you  abstain 
from  covetousness,  and  that  ye  be  chaste  and  true. 
Keep  yourselves  from  every  evil  work.  But  he 
tliat  in  these  things  cannot  govern  himself,  how 
shall  he  preach  it  to  another  !  If  a  man  refrain 
not  from  covetousness,  he  \\*ill  be  defiled  with 
idolatry,  and  shall  be  judged  among  the  heathen. 
Who  is  ignorant  of  the  judgment  of  the  Lord  ] 
"  Know  ye  not  that  the  saints  shall  judge  the 
world  V*  as  Paul  teaches.  But  I  have  neither 
found  any  such  thing  in  you,  nor  heard  any  such 
thing  of  you,  among  whom  the  blessed  Paul  labor- 
ed, and  who  are  in  the  beginning  of  his  epistle. 
For  of  you  he  boasts  in  all  those  churches,  which 
only  knew  God  at  that  time,  whom  as  yet  we  had 
not  known.     I  am,  therefore,  brethren,  greatly 

*  1  Cor.  vi.  2. 


troubled  for  him  and  for  his  wife  ;  the  Lord  give 
them  true  repentance.  Be  ye  also  sober  as  to  this 
matter,  and  account  not  such  as  enemies,  but  re- 
store them  as  weak  and  erring  members,  that  the 
whole  body  of  you  may  be  saved  ;  for  in  so  doing 
ye  build  up  yourselves. 

8.  I  trust  that  ye  are  well  exercised  in  the  holy 
Scriptures,  and  that  nothing  is  hid  from  you  ;  a 
thing  as  yet  not  granted  to  me.  As  it  is  said  in 
these  places,  "  be  angry  and  not  sin  ;"  and  "  let 
not  the  sun  go  down  upon  your  wrath."  Blessed 
is  he  that  is  mindful  of  these  things,  which  I  be- 
lieve you  are.  The  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  Christ  Jesus  the  eternal  High- 
priest  and  Son  of  God,  build  you  up  in  faith  and 
truth,  and  in  all  meekness,  that  you  may  be  with- 
out anger,  in  patience,  forbearance,  long-suffering, 
and  cliastity,  and  give  you  a  portion  and  inheri- 
tance amongst  his  saints  :  and  to  us  together  with 
you,  and  to  all  under  heaven,  who  shall  believe  in 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  in  his  Father,  who 
raised  him  from  the  dead.  Pray  for  all  saints  : 
pray  also  for  kings,  magistrates,  and  princes,  and 
even  for  them  that  hate  and  persecute  you,  and 
for  the  enemies  of  the  cross,  that  your  fruits  may 
be  manifest  in  all,  that  you  may  be  complete  in 
him. 

9.  Ye  wrote  unto  me,  both  ye  and  Ignatius,  that 
if  any  one  go  into  Syria,  he  might  carry  your  let- 
ters along  with  In'm  :  which  I  will  do  so  soon  as  I 
shall  have  a  convenient  opportunity,  either  myself, 
or  by  some  other,  whom  I  will  send  upon  your 
errand.  According  to  your  request,  we  have  sent 
you  those  epistles  of  Ignatius  which  he  wrote  to 
us,  and  as  many  others  of  liis  as  we  had  by  us, 
which  are  annexed  to  this  epistle,  by  which  ye  may 
be  greatly  profited.  For  they  contain  in  thern 
faith  and  patience,  and  whatever  else  is  necessary 
to  build  you  up  in  our  Lord.  Send  us  word  what 
you  certainly  know  both  concerning  Ignatius  him- 
self and  his  companions.  These  things  have  I 
written  unto  you  by  Crescens,  whom  I  have  hither- 
to commended  to  you,  and  do  still  recommend. — 
For  he  has  unblamably  conversed  amongst  us,  as 
also  I  believe  amongst  you.  His  sister  also  ye 
shall  have  recommended,  when  she  shall  come 
unto  you.  Be  ye  safe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
Grace  be  with  you  all.    Amen. 


REMAINS 


REV.     RICHARD     CECIL,     M.A 

LATK    RECTOR    OF    BISLEV,    AND    VICAR    OF    CHOBHAM,    SURREY  ;    AND 
MINISTER    OF    ST.     JOHN's    CHAPEL,    BEDFORD    HOW,    LONDON. 


TO    WHICH    IS    PREFIXED 


A  VJEW   OF  HJS   CHARACTER 


BY  JOSIAH  PRATT,  B.  D.  F.  A.  S. 


NEW    YORK: 

THOMAS   GEORGE,   Jr.,   4   SPRUCE   STREET. 

1836. 


INTRODUCTION. 

"He  that  has  the  happy  talent  of  parlor-preachmg,"  says  Dr.  Watts,*  "has 
sometimes  done  more  for  Christ  and  souls  in  the  space  of  a  few  mmiites,  than  by 
the  labor  of  many  hours  and  days  in  the  usual  course  of  preachmg  m  the  pulpit. 

On  my  first  intercourse  with  Mr.  Cecil,  now  upwards  of  fifteen  years  smce, 
when  in  the  full  vigor  of  his  mind,  I  was  so  struck  with  the  wisdom  and  origmality 
of  his  remarks,  that  I  considered  it  my  duty  to  record  what  seemed  to  me  most 
likely  to  be  useful  to  others. 

It  should  be  observed,  that  Mr.  Cecil  is  made  to  speak  often  ol  himselt :  and,  to 
persons  who  do  not  consider  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  there  may  appear 
much  etrotism  in  the  quantity  of  such  remarks  here  put  together,  and  m  the  mannei 
in  which  his  things  arc  said :  but  this  will  be  treating  him  with  the  most  flagrant 
injustice ;  for  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  remarks  of  this  nature  were  chiefly 
made  by  him,  from  time  to  time,  in  answer  to  my  particular  inquiries  into  his 
judgment  and  habits  on  certain  points  of  doctrine  or  practice. 

1  have  labored,  in  recording  those  sentiments  which  I  have  gathered  from  him  in 
conversation,  to  preserve  as  much  as  possible  his  very  expressions ;  and  they  who 
were  familiar  with  his  manner  will  be  able  to  judge,  in  general,  how  far  I  have 
succeeded  :  but  I  would  explicitly  disavow  an  exact  verbal  responsibility.  For  the 
sentiments  I  make  myself  answerable. 

In  some  instances,  1  have  brought  together  observations  made  at  different  times  ; 
the  reader  is  not,  therefore,  to  understand  that  the  thoughts  here  collected  on  any 
subject  always  followed  in  immediate  connexion. 

♦  An  Humble  Attempt  towards  the  Revival  of  Religion,  Part  I,  Sect  4. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 


View  of  the  Character  of  the  Rev.  Richard  Cecil 

REMAINS. 
On  the  Christian  Life  and  Conflict      .        .        .23 
On  Subjects  connected  with  the  Christian  Min- 
istry : — 
On  a  Minister's  qualifying  himself  for  his 

office 29 

On  the  Assistance  which  a  Minister  has  rea- 
son to  expect  in  the  discharge  of  his  Pub- 
lic Duty   30 

On  Preaching  Christ         ....        30 
On  a  Minister's  Familiar  Intercourse  with 

his  Hearers 

On  a  Minister's  encouraging  Animadversion 

on  Himself 

On  Limits,  with  regard  to  frequenting  Public 

Exhibitions 

On  the  Means  of  promoting  a  Spirit  of  Devo- 
tion in  Congregations        .... 
On  the  Marriage  of  Christian  Ministers 
On  visiting  Death-beds  .... 

Miscellaneous  Remarks 

On  Infidelity  and  Popcr) 42 

On  a  Christian's  Duty  in  these  Eventful  Times  44 
On  Fortifying  Youth  against  Infidel  Principles,  45 
On  the  M.anaeement  oi'  Children  .  .  .45 
On  Family  Worship 46 


On  the  Influence  of  the  Parental  Character         .  47 

Remarks  on  Authors 49 

On  the  Scriptures : — 

Miscellaneous  Remarks  on  the  Scriptures        .  50 

On  the  Old  and  New  Dispensations     .        .  52 
On  Typical  and  Allegorical  Explanations  of 

Scripture •        .53 

On  the  Diversity  of  Character  in  Christians,  and 

on  correcting  the  Defects  in  our  Character        .  54 

On  the  Fallen  Nature  of  Man         ...  56 
On  the  Need  of  Grace        .        .        .        _.        .56 

On  the  Occasions  of  Enmity  against  Christianity  57 

On  Religious  Retirement         ....  68 

On  a  Spiritual  Mind             59 

On  Declension  in  Religion       ....  60 
On  a  Christian's  associating  with  Irreligious  Per- 
sons for  their  good            61 

On  the  Christian  Sabbath        ....  62 

On  Judging  justly 62 

On  the  Character  of  St.  Paul           ...  63 

Miscellanies 64 

APPENDIX. 

Remarks  by  Mr.  Cecil,  communicated  to  the  Edi- 
tor by  some  friends          .        .        .        .        .  72 
Some  negative  rules,  given  to  a  Young  Minister  82 
Fragment— A  Dying  Minister's  Farewell            .  83 


VIEW     OF     THE     CHARACTER 


REV.     RICHARD     CECI 


In  depicting  the  personal  and  ministekial 
character  of  my  departed  friend,  while  I  shall 
communicate  occasionally  the  impressions 
made  by  him  on  my  own  mind,  most  of  which 
were  recorded  at  the  time  they  were  made,  1 
shall  endeavor  to  render  him,  as  mv;ch  as  pos- 
sible, the  portrayer  of  his  own  character,  by 
detailing  those  descriptions  of  his  views  and 
feelings  which  I  gathered  from  him. 

Nature,  education,  and  grace,  combine  to 
form  and  model  the  PERSONAL  CHARAC- 
TER of  every  Christian.  God  gives  to  his 
reasonable  creature  such  physical  and  intel- 
lectual constitution  as  he  pleases;  education 
and  circumstances  hide  or  unfold,  restrain  or 
mature  this  constitution  ;  and  grace,  while  it 
regulates  and  sanctifies  the  powers  of  the 
ma.i,  varies  its  own  appearances  according  to 
the  varieties  of  those  powers.  And  it  is  by 
the  endless  modifications  and  counteractions 
of  these  principles,  that  the  personal  charac- 
ter of  a  Christian  is  formed. 

It   might  have  been   expected,    from   Mr. 
Cecil's  earliest  displays  of  character,  that  he 
WdS  formed  to  be  an  instrument  of  extensive 
evil  or  of  eminent  good.     There  was  a  deci- 
sion— a   DARING — an   untameableness    in   the 
structure    of   his    mind,   even   when   a  boy, 
'  combined  with  a  tone  of  authority  and  com- 
mand, and  a  talent  in  the  exercise  of  these 
qualities,  to  Avhich  the  minds  of  his  associates 
yielded  an  implicit  subjection.     Fear  of  con- 
j  sequences  never  entered  into  his  view.  Oppo- 
I  sition,  especially  if  accompanied  by  any  thing 
j  like  severity  or  oppression,  awakened  unre- 
lenting resistance. 
I      Yet  this  bold  and  untameable   spirit   was 
f  allied  to   a  noble   and  generous  disposition. 
I  There  was  a  magnificence  in  his  mind.  While 
j  he  was  scrupulously  delicate,  perhaps  even  to 
{  some   excess,   on   subjects    intrusted   to   his 
secrecy,  and   on   affairs  in  progress ;  yet  he 
would  never  lend  himself,  in  his  own  concerns, 
or  in  those  of  other  persons,  to  any  thing  that 
bordered  on   artifice  and  manoeuvre  ;  for  he 
had  a  native  and  thorough  contempt  of  what- 
ever was  mean,  little,  and  equivocating.    That 
"  honesty  is  the  best  policy"  may  be  a  strong, 
102  '  -4 


or  the  prevailing  motive  for  uprightness,  with 
men  of  a  lower  tone  of  character;  but  1 
question  if  it  at  all  entered  into  calculation 
with  my  great  friend.  His  mind  was  too 
noble  to  have  recourse  to  other  means,  or  to 
aim  at  other  ends,  than  those  which  he 
avowed ;  and  too  intrepid  not  to  avow  those 
which  he  did  entertain,  so  far  as  might  be  re- 
quired or  expedient. 

His  temptations  were  to  the  sins  of  the 
spirit,  rather  than  to  those  of  the  flesh ;  and 
he  possessed,  all  his  life  long,  a  superiority  to 
the  pleasures  of  mere  sense  not  often  seen. 
He  was,  indeed,  temperate  in  all  things — hold- 
ing his  iDodily  appetites  in  entire  subjection. 

Sympathy  with  suffering  was  an  eminent 
characteristic  of  Mr.  Cecil's  mind — a  sympathy 
which  sprung  less  from  that  softness  and  sen- 
sibility which  are  the  ornament  of  the  female, 
than  from  the  generosity  of  his  disposition. 
He  would  have  had  all  men  happy.  It  gratified 
his  generous  nature  to  ease  the  burdens  of 
suffering  man.  If  any  were  afflicted  by  the 
visitations  of  God,  lie  taught  them  to  bow 
with  submission,  while  he  pitied  and  relieved  ; 
if  the  affliction  were  the  natural  and  evident 
fruit  of  crimes,  he  admonished  while  he  sym- 
pathized ;  if  the  sufferings  of  man  or  brute 
arose  from  the  voluntary  inflictions  of  others, 
he  was  indignant  against  the  oppressor. 

Such  was  the  intrepid  and  noble,  yet  humane 
mind,  which  was  trained  by  Divine  Grace, 
under  a  long  course  of  moral  discipline,  for 
eminent  usefulness  in  the  church  of  God. 
Mr.  Cecil's  intellectual  endowments  will  be 
spoken  of  hereafter.  At  present,  I  shall  trace 
the  rise  and  the  advances  of  his  Christian 
character. 

He  had  early  religious  impressions.  These 
Avere  first  received  from  Janeway's  "  Token 
for  Children,"  which  his  mother  gave  him 
when  he  was  about  six  years  of  age.  "  I  was 
much  affected  by  this  book,"  said  he,  "  and 
recollect  that  I  wept,  and  got  into  a  comer, 
where  I  prayed  that  I  also  might  have  '  an 
interest  in  Christ,'  like  one  of  the  children 
there  mentioned,  though  I  did  not  then  know 
what  the  expression  meant." 


CHARACTER    OF   MR.  CECIL. 


Those  impressions  of  his  childhood  wore 
away.  He  fell  into  the  follies  and  vices  of 
youth ;  and  by  degrees  began  to  listen  to  in- 
fidel principles,  till  he  avowed  himself  openly 
an  unbeliever.  He  has  alluded  frequently  in 
his  writings  to  this  criminal  part  of  his  his- 
tory ;  but  I  shall  add  some  paragraphs  on  this 
point  partly  in  his  own  words.  | 

He  was  suffered  to  proceed  to  awful  lengths  j 
in  infidelity.  The  natural  daring  of  his  mind  i 
allowed  him  to  do  nothing  by  halves.  Into 
whatever  society  he  enlisted  himself,  he  was  { 
its  leader.  He  became  even  an  apostle  of  i 
infidelity — anxious  to  banish  the  scruples  of  ! 
more  cautious  minds,  and  to  carry  them  all 
lengths  with  his  own.  And  he  was  too  suc- 
cessful. In  after-life  he  has  met  more  than 
one  of  these  converts,  who  have  laughed  at  all 
his  affectionate  and  earnest  attempts  to  pull 
down  the  fabric  erected  too  much  by  his  own 
hands. 

Yet  he  was  never  wholly  sincere  in  his  infi- 
delity. He  has  left  a  most  impressive  and 
encouraging  testimony  to  the  power  of  paren- 
tal influence  in  preserving  his  mind,  under  the 
grace  of  God,  from  entirely  believing  his  own 
lie.*  He  gave  me  a  farther  instance  of  the 
power  of  conscience  in  this  respect: 

"  When  I  was  sunk  in  the  depths  of  infidel- 
ity, I  was  afraid  to  read  any  author  who 
treated  Christianity  in  a  dispassionate,  wise, 
and  searching  manner.  He  made  me  uneasy. 
Conscience  would  gather  strength.  I  found 
it  more  difficult  to  stifle  her  remonstrances. 
He  would  recall  early  instructions  and  impres- 
sions, while  my  liappiness  could  only  consist 
with  their  obliteration." 

Yet  he  appears  to  have  taken  no  small  pains 
to  rid  himself  of  his  scruples  : — "  I  have  read,'' 
said  he,  "  all  the  most  acute  and  learned  and 
serious  infidel  writers,  and  have  been  really 
surprised  at  their  poverty.  The  process  of 
my  mind  has  been  such  on  the  subject  of  reve- 
lation, that  I  have  often  thought  Satan  has 
done  more  for  me  than  for  tlie  best  of  them ; 
for  I  have  had,  and  could  have  produced,  ar- 
guments, that  appeared  to  me  far  more 
weighty  than  any  I  ever  found  in  them  against 
Revelation." 

He  did  not  proceed  in  this  career  of  sin 
without  occasional  checks  of  conscience. 
Take  the  following  instance  : 

"  My  father  had'  a  religious  servant.  I  fre- 
quently cursed  and  reviled  him.  He  would 
only  smile  on  me.  lliat  went  to  my  heart.  I 
felt  that  he  looked  on  me  as  a  deluded  crea- 
ture. I  felt  that  he  thought  he  had  something 
which  1  knew  not  how  to  value,  and  that  he 
was  therefore  greatly  my  superior.  I  felt 
there  was  a  real  dignity  in  his  conduct.  It 
made  me  appear  little  even  in  my  own  eyes. 
If  he  had  condescended  to  argue  with  me,  I 
could  have  cut  some  figure  ;  at  least  by  com- 
parison, wretched  as  it  would  have  been.  He 
drew  me  once  to  hear  Mr.  Whitefield.  I  was 
17  or  18  years  old.     It  had  no  sort  of  religious 

*  See  Remains  •  on  tlie  Influence  of  the  Parental 
Character. 


effect  on  me,  nor  had  the  preaching  of  any 
man  in  my  unconverted  state.  My  religion 
began  in  contemplation.  Yet  I  conceived  a 
high  reverence  for  Mr.  Whitefield.  1  no  lon- 
ger thought  of  him  as  the  "  Dr.  Squintum" 
we  were  accustomed  to  buffoon  at  school.  I 
saw  a  commanding  and  irresistible  effect,  and 
he  made  me  feel  my  own  insignificance." 

For  this  daring  offender,  however,  God  had 
mercy  in  reserve !  He  Avas  the  child  of  many 
tears,  instructions,  admonitions,  and  prayers ; 
and,  though  now  a  prodigal,  he  was  to  be  re- 
covered from  his  wickedness ! 

While  under  the  control  of  bad  principles, 
he  gave  in  to  every  species  of  licentiousness — 
saving  that,  even  then,  the  native  nobleness 
of  his  mind  made  him  despise  whatever  he 
thought  mean  and  dishonorable.  Into  this 
state  of  slavery  he  was  brought  by  his  sin ; 
but  here  the  mercy  of  God  taught  him  some 
most  important  lessons,  which  influenced  his 
views  and  governed  his  ministry  through  after- 
life, and  the  same  mercy  then  rescued  him 
from  the  slavery  to  which  he  had  submitted. 
The  penetration  and  grandeur  of  his  mind, 
with  his  natural  superiority  to  sensual  plea- 
sures, made  him  feel  the  littleness  of  eveiy 
object  which  engages  the  ambition  and  the 
desires  of  the  carnal  man ;  insomuch  that  God 
had  given  him,  in  this  unusual  way  of  bringing 
him  to  himself,  a  thorough  disgust  of  the  world, 
before  he  had  gained  any  hold  of  higher  ob- 
jects and  better  pleasures. 

It  was  thus  that  God  prepared  him  for  fur- 
ther communications  of  mercy.  And  here  he 
felt  the  advantage  of  having"  been  connected 
with  sincere  Christians.  He  knew  them  to 
be  holy,  and  he  felt  that  they  were  happy.  "  It 
was  one  of  the  first  things,"  said  he,  "  which 
struck  my  mind  in  a  profligate  state,  that,  in 
spite  of  all  the  folly,  and  hypocrisy,  and  fana- 
ticism which  may  be  seen  among  religious 
professors,  there  was  a  mind  after  Christ,  a 
holiness,  a  heavenliness  among  real  Chris- 
tians." He  added  on  another  occasion,  "  My 
first  convictions  on  the  subject  of  religion 
were  confirmed  from  observing  that  really  re- 
ligious persons  had  some  solid  happiness 
among  them,  which  I  had  felt  that  the  vani- 
ties of  the  world  could  not  give.  I  shall  never 
forget  standing  by  the  bed  of  my  sick  mother. 
'  Are  not  you  afraid  to  diel'  I  asked  her: 
'  No.'  '  No !  Why  does  the  uncertainty  of 
another  state  give  you  no  concern  V  '  Because 
Cod  has  said  to  me,  Fear  not,  when  thou  pass- 
es!. throus;h  the  ivaiers  I  ivill  he  icith  thee ;  and 
through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee.' 
The  remembrance  of  this  scene  has  often- 
times since  drawn  an  ardent  prayer  from  me, 
that  I  might  die  the  death  of  the  righteous." 

His  mind  opened  very  gradually  to  the  truths 
of  the  Gospel ;  and  the  process  through  which 
he  was  led  is  a  striking  evidence  of  the  immi- 
nence of  his  past  danger.  "  My  feelings,"  he 
said,  "  when  I  was  first  beginning  to  recover 
from  my  infidelity,  prove  that  I  had  been  suf- 
fered to  go  great  lengths ;  and,  to  a  very  awful 
degree,  to  believe  my  own  lie.  My  mind  re- 
1  volted  from  Christiahitv.     God  did  not  bring 


CHARACTER   OF   MR.  CECIL. 


me  to  himself  by  any  of  the  peculiar  motives 
of  the  Gospel.  When  1  was  about  twenty 
years  old,  1  became  utterly  sick  of  the  vanity, 
and  disgusted  with  the  folly,  of  the  world.  I 
had  no  thought  of  Jesus  Christ,  or  of  redemp- 
tion. The  very  notion  of  Jesus  Christ  or  of 
redemption  repelled  me.  I  could  not  endure 
a  system  so  degrading.  I  thought  there  might 
possibly  be  a  Supreme  Being;  and  if  there 
were  such  a  Being,  he  might  hear  me  v.hen  I 
prayed.  To  worship  the  Supreme  Being 
seemed  somewhat  dignified.  There  was  some- 
thing grand  and  elevating  in  the  idea.  But 
the  whole  scheme  and  plan  of  redemption  ap- 
]ieared  mean,  and  degrading,  and  dishonorable 
to  man.  The  New  "Testament,  in  its  senti- 
ments and  institutions,  repelled  me;  and 
seemed  impossible  to  be  believed,  as  a  religion 
suitable  to  man.'' 

The  grace  of  God  triumphed,  however,  over 
all  opposition.  The  religion  which  began  in 
this  disgust  with  the  world  and  disaffection  to 
the  peculiar  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  made 
rapid  advances  in  his  mind.  The  seed  sown 
in  tears  by  his  inestimable  mother,  though 
long  buried,  now  burst  into  life,  and  shot  forth 
with  vigor;  and  he  became  a  preacher  of  that 
truth,  which  once  he  labored  to  destroy.  Yet 
grace  did  not  annihilate  the  natural  character 
and  qualities  of  the  mind;  though  it  regulated 
and  directed  them.  The  Christian's  feelmgs 
and  experience  were  modified  by  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  man.  After  a  long  course  of  spi- 
ritual watchfulness  and  warfare,  he  spoke  thus 
of  himself: 

"  There  is  v/hat  Bacon  calls  a  dry  light,  in 
which  subjects  are  viewed,  without  any  predi- 
lection, or  passion,  or  emotion,  but  simply  as 
they  exist.  This  is  very  much  my  character 
as  a  Christian.  I  have  great  constitutional 
resistance.  Tell  me  such  a  thing  is  my  duty— 
I  know  it  is,  but  there  I  stop.  Talk  to  me  of 
HELL— mv  heart  would  rise  with  a  sort  of 
daring  stubbornness.  There  is  a  constitutional 
despe'ration  about  me,  which  was  the  most 
conspicuous  feature  in  my  character  when 
young,  and  which  has  risen  up  against  the  gra- 
cious measures  which  God  has  all  my  life  taken 
to  subdue  and  break  it.  I  feel  I  can  do  little  in 
religion  without  encouragement.  I  am  per- 
suaded and  satisfied,  tied  and  bound,  by  its 
truth  and  importance  and  value ;  but  I  view 
the  subject  in  a  dry  light.  A  strong  sense  of 
DIVINE  FRIENDSHIP  gocs  a  vast  way  with  me. 
When  I  fall,  God  will  raise  me.  When  I 
want,  God  will  provide.  When  I  am  in  per- 
plexity, God  will  deliver.  He  cares  for  me— 
pities  me — bears  with  me— guides  me — loves 
me!" 

But  the  energy  of  Divine  Grace  was  most 
conspicuous  in  the  control  and  mastery  of 
this  resisting  and  high  spirit  of  which  our 
friend  complained.  Nay,  if  there  were  any 
one  Christian  virtue  in  which  he  was  more 
advanced  than  any  other,  it  appears  to  me  to 
have  been  humility — not  that  humility  which 
debases  itself  that  it  may  be  exalted,  and 
which  is  offended  if  its  professions  be  be- 
lieved ;  but  the  humility  which  aro^e  from  an 


abiding  and  growing  conviction  of  his  infinite 
distance  from  the  standard  of  perfection,  and 
the  little  comparative  use  which  he  had  made 
of  his  many  means  and  helps  in  approaching 
that  standard — a  humility  that  expressed  itself, 
therefore,  in  a  teachableness  of  mind,*  a  ready 
acknowledgment  of  excellence  in  others,  and 
a  candor  in  judging  of  other  persons  which 
are  seldom  equalled,  and  which  were  rare  en- 
dowments in  a  mind  that  could  not  but  feel  its 
own  powers,  and  its  superiority  to  that  of 
most  other  men.  But  God  has  a  thousand 
unseen  methods  of  forming  and  cherishing 
those  graces  in  his  servants,  which  seem 
most  opposed  to  their  constitution,  and  least 
to  be  expected  in  their  circumstances. 

Mr.  Cecil  gave  me  one  day  the  following 
remarkable  illustration  of  this  subject  in  his 
own  case  : — "  It  is  a  nice  question  in  casuis- 
try : — How  far  a  man  may  feel  complacency  in 
the  exercise  of  talent.  A  hawk  exults  on  his 
wing;  he  skims  and  sails,  delighting  in  the 
consciousness  of  his  powers.  I  know  nothing 
of  this  feeling.  Diss.\tisfaction  accompanies 
me,  in  the  study  and  in  the  pulpit.  I  never 
made  a  sermon  with  which  I  felt  satisfied ;  I 
never  preached  a  sermon,  with  which  I  felt 
satisfied.  I  have  always  present  to  my  mind 
such  a  conception  of  wliat  might  be  done,  and 
1  sometimes  hear  the  thing  so  done,  that  what 
I  do  falls  very  far  beneath  what  it  seems  to  me 
it  should  be'.  Some  sermons  which  I  have 
heard  have  made  me  sick  of  my  own  for  a 
month  afterviards.  Jlany  ministers  have  no 
conception  of  any  thing  beyond  their  own 
world :  they  compare  themselves  only  with 
themselves  ;  and  perhaps  they  must  do  so  :  if 
I  could  give  them  my  views  of  their  ministry, 
without  changing  the  men,  they  would  be 
ruined ;  while  now,  they  are  eminent  instru- 
ments in  God's  hands.  But  some  men  see 
too  much  beyond  themselves  for  their  own 
comfort.  Perhaps  complacency  in  the  exer- 
cise of  talent,  be  it  what  it  may,  is  hardly  to 
be  separated,  in  such  a  wretched  heart  as 
man's,  from  pride.  It  seems  to  me  that  this 
dissatisfaction  with  myself,  is  the  messenger 
sent  to  buffet  me  and  keep  me  down.  In  other 
men,  the  separation  between  complacency  and 
pride  may  be  possible  ;  but  I  scarcely  think  it 
is  so  in  me."  f 


+  "  A  friend,  who  knew  him  for  thirty  or  forty 
years,  has  informed  me,"  says  Mr.  Wilson,  in  the  ser- 
mons preached  on  occasion  of  Mr.  Cecil's  death, 
"  that  he  was  more  ready  to  hear  of  his  faults  from 
persons  whom  he  esteemed,  than  most  men.  W^hen 
any  failinss  were  pointed  out  to  him,  he  usually 
thanked  tlie  reprover,  and  anxiously  inquired  for  fur- 
ther admonitions.  I  have  obseiYed  myself,  that,  when 
he  gave  advice,  which  he  did  with  acuteness  and  de- 
cision, he  was  quite  superior  to  that  little  vanity  vvliich 
is  offended  if  the  counsel  be  not  followed." 

I  Mr.  Churton  has  a  remark  on  Dr.  Johnson,  some- 
what of  a  similar  nature  to  this  of  Mr.  C.  on  himself. 
He  thinks  that  "Johnson's  morbid  melancholy  and 
constitutional  infirmities  were  intended  by  Providence, 
like  St.  Paul's  thorn  in  the  flesh,  to  check  intellectual 
conceit  and  arrogance  ;  which  tlie  consciousness  of  Ids 
extraordinary  talents,  awake  as  he  was  to  the  voice  of 
praise,  might  olhcr«  ise  have  generated  in  a  very  cul- 


CHARACTER    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


I  have  alluded  to  Mr.  Cecil's  ready  acknow- 
ledgment OF  THE  WORTH  of  OTHERS  ;  aild  I  HlUSt 

add.  that  he  cultivated  that  discrimination  of 
excellence,  which  leads  a  man  to  discover 
and  esteem  it  in  the  midst  of  imperfections. 
He  had  an  unfeigned  regard  to  real  worth, 
wherever  it  was  found.  The  powers  of  the 
understanding  have  often  fascinated  men  of 
inferior  wisdom,  and  lessened  the  odiousness 
of  an  immoral  state  of  heart  too  plainly  seen 
in  others  ;  but  if  the  excellencies  of  the  head 
and  the  heart  must  be  disjoined,  he  never  failed 
to  value  that  which  is  most  truly  valuable.  He 
would  say—"  Such  a  friend  of  ours  is  what 
many  men  look  down  on,  as  a  weak  man ;  but 
I  honor  his  wisdom  and  his  devotedness.  He 
throws  himself  out,  and  all  the  powers  which 
God  has  given  him,  into  the  service  of  his 
Master,  in  all  those  ways  which  seem  to  him 
best;  and,  though  perhaps  he  and  I  should 
forever  differ  on  the  best  way,  and  though  I 
see  in  him  many  peculiarities  and  weaknesses,  i 
yet  I  honor  and  love  the  man ;  I  revere  his  1 
simplicity  and  his  piety.  He  is  what  God  has 
made  him  ;  and  all  that  he  is  he  puts  into  action 
for  God."  U  Mr.  Cecil  was  at  any  time  severe 
in  his  remarks  on  others,  his  severity  was 
chiefly  directed  against  that  ignorant  vanity 
and  affectation,  which  push  a  man  forward 
where  great  men  would  retire,  and  which 
make  him  dogmatical  where  wise  men  would 
speak  with  humility  and  candor. 

Closely  allied  with  his  humility,  was  that 
openness' TO  CONVICTION,  which  Mr.  Cecil  pos- 
sessed in  an  unusual  degree.  He  had  dived 
so  deeply  into  his  own  heart,  and  had  read 
man  so  accurately — his  short-sightedness,  his 
scanty  span,  his  pride,  and  his  passions — that 
he  was,  more  than  most  men,  superior  to  that 
little  feeling  which  makes  us  quit  the  scholar's 
form.  Many  men  speak  of  themselves  and  of 
all  around  them  as  in  a  state  of  pupilage  and 
childhood,  but  I  never  approached  a  man  on 
whose  mind  this  conviction  had  a  more  real 
and  practical  influence. 

Disinterestedness  was  a  pre-eminent  cha- 
racteristic of  Mr.  Cecil  as  a  Christian.  His 
whole  spirit  and  conduct  spoke  one  language : 
"  Let  me  and  mine  be  nothing,  so  that  thy 
kingdom  may  come  !"  His  disinterestedness 
was  grounded  on  his  conviction  of  the  abso- 
lute nothingness  of  all  earthly  good,  compared 
with  tlie  glory  of  Christ  and  the  interests  of 
his  kingdom.  In  all  pecuniary  transactions  of 
a  private  or  public  nature,  he  was  governed  by 
this  principle  ;  and  made  a  free  and  cheerful 
sacrifice  of  what  he  miglit  have  lawfully  ob- 
tained, if  he  thought  his  receiving  it  would 
impede  his  usefulness. 

On  one  occasion  of  this  nature,  he  explained 
the  noble  principle  on  which  he  acted :— "  A 
Christian  is  called  to  refrain  from  some  things, 
which,  though  actually  right,  yet  will  not  bear 
a  good  appearance  to  all  men.  I  once  judged 
It  my  duty  to  refuse  a  considerable  sum  of 
money,  which  I  might  lawfully  and  fairly  have 


pable  degree." — BosiveWs  Life  of  Johnson,  2d  Edit.  8vo. 
vol.  Hi.  p.  564. 


received,  because  I  considered  that  my  account 
of  the  matter  could  not  be  stated  to  some, 
to  whom  a  different  representation  would  be 
made.  A  man  who  intends  to  stand  immacu- 
late, and,  like  Samuel,  to  come  forward  and 
say — Whose  ox,  or  whose  ass  have  I  taken?  must 
count  the  cost.  I  knew  that  my  character 
was  worth  more  to  me  than  this  sum  of  mo- 
ney. By  probity,  a  man  honors  himself.  It 
is  the  part  of  a  wise  man  to  waive  the  present 
good  for  the  future  increase.  A  merchant 
suffers  a  large  quantity  of  goods  to  go  out  of 
the  kingdom  to  a  foreign  land,  but  he  has  his 
object  in  doing  so  ;  he  knows,  by  calculation, 
that  he  shall  make  so  much  more  advantage 
by  them.  A  Christian  is  made  a  wise  man  by 
counting  the  cost.  The  best  picture  I  know 
of  the  exercise  of  this  virtue,  drawn  by  the 
hand  of  man,  is  that  by  John  Bunyan  in  the 
characters  of  Passion  and  Patience. 

Associated  with  this  disinterestedness  of  spi- 
rit, was  a  singular  practical  reliance  on  pro- 
vidence, in  alfthe  most  minute  and  seemingly 
indifferent  affairs  of  his  life.  He  was  emphat- 
ically, to  use  his  own  expression,  "  a  pupil  of 
signs" — waiting  for  and  following  the  leadings 
and  openings  of  divine  Providence  in  his  affairs. 
I  once  consulted  him  throughout  a  very  deli- 
cate and  perplexing  affair.  In  one  stage  of  it, 
he  said  to  me,  "  You  have  not  done  this  thing 
exactly  as  1  should  have  felt  my  mind  led  to 
do  it.  I  feel  myself  in  such  cases  like  a  child 
in  the  middle  of  an  intricate  and  perplexed 
wood.  Two  considerations  weigh  with  me : 
first — If  I  could  see  all  the  involutions,  and 
relations,  and  bearings,  and  consequences  of 
the  affair,  then  I  might  feel  myself  able  to 
move  forward:  but  secondly — I  know  not  one 
of  them,  not  even  the  shadow  of  one,  nay, 
hardly  the  probability  of  such  and  such  issues. 
Then  I  am  driven  to  simple  reliance.  I  have 
never  found  God  fail  me  in  such  cases.  When 
I  am  utterly  lost  and  confounded,  I  look  for 
openings,  clear  and  evident  to  my  own  con- 
viction. I  have  a  warrant  for  all  this.  Our 
grand  danger  with  reference  to  Providence  is, 
that  we  should  walk  as  men  : — Are  ye  not  car- 
nal and  walk  as  men  V 

On  another  occasion  he  said — "  We  make 
too  little  of  the  subject  of  Providence.  My 
mind  is  by  nature  so  intrepid  and  sanguine, 
and  it  has  so  often  led  me  to  anticipate  God 
in  his  guidings,  to  my  severe  loss,  that  per- 
haps I  am  now  too  suspicious  and  dilatory  in 
following  him.  However,  this  is  a  maxim 
with  me — that,  when  I  am  waiting  with  a 
simple,  childlike  spirit  for  openings  and  guid- 
ings, and  imagine  I  perceive  them,  God  would 
either  prevent  the  semblance  of  them  from 
rising  up  before  me,  if  these  were  not  his  lead- 
ings in  reality,  or  he  would  preserve  me  from 
deeming  them  such;  and  therefore  I  always 
follow  what  appears  to  be  my  duty  without 
hesitation." 

But  the  spring  of  all  these  Christian  virtues, 
and  the  master-grace  of  his  mind,  was  faith. 
His  whole  spirit  and  character  were  a  living 
illustration  of  that  definition  of  the  apostle — 
Faith  is  the  subslance  nf  thiiif:;s   hoped  for,  the 


CHARACTER    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


evidence  of  things  tinseenl  He  appeared  to  me 
never  to  be  exercised  with  doubts  and  fears. 
His  magnanimity  entered  most  strikingly  into 
his  rehgious  character.  He  Avas  convinced 
and  satisiied  by  all  the  divine  declarations  and 
promises — and  he  left  himself,  with  unsus- 
pecting confidence,  in  God's  hands.* 

I  quote  Mr.  Wilson's  testimony  to  the  p.\- 
TiENCE  of  our  friend  under  afflictions.  "  He 
was  not  only,  in  opposition  to  all  the  tenden- 
cies of  his  natural  dispositions,  resigned,  but 
cheerful  under  his  trials.  I  have  seen  him 
repeatedly,  at  his  Living  in  the  country,  return 
from  his  ride  racked  with  pain;  pale,  ema- 
ciated, speechless.  I  have  seen  him  throw 
himself  all  along  upon  his  sofa,  on  his  face, 
and  cover  his  forehead  with  his  hands ;  and 
there,  without  an  expression  of  complaint,  en- 
dure the  paroxysm  of  his  disorder :  and  I  have 
been  astonished  to  observe  him  rise  up  in  an 
instant,  with  his  wonted  dignity,  and  enter  up- 
on conversation  with  cheerfulness  and  vigor. 
He  has  often  acknowledged  to  me,  that  the 
anguish  he  felt  was  like  a  dagger  plunged  into 
his  side,  and  that  through  a  wJiole  summer  he 
has  not  had  two  nights  free  from  tormenting 
pain.  Such  were  his  sufferings  for  ten  or 
twelve  years  previous  to  his  last  illness.  And 
yet  this  was  the  man,  or  rather  this  was  the 
Christian,  from  whose  lips  I  never  heard  a 
iuurmuring  word." 

It  is  almost  needless  to  add,  that  Mr.  Cecil 
possessed  remarkable  decision  of  character. 
When  he  went  to  Oxford  he  had  made  a  reso- 
lution of  restricting  himself  to  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  daily,  in  playing  on  the  violin  ;  on  which 
instrument  he  greatly  excelled,  and  of  whicli 
he  was  extravagantly  fond:  but  he  found  it 
impracticable  to  adhere  to  his  determination; 
and  had  so  frequently  to  lament  the  loss  of 
time  in  this  fascinating  amusement,  that  with 
the  noble  spirit  which  characterized  him 
through  life,  he  cut  his  strings,  and  never  af- 
terwards replaced  them.  He  studied  for  a 
painter ;  and,  after  he  had  changed  his  object, 
retained  a  fondness  and  a  taste  for  the  art :  he 
was  once  called  to  visit  a  sick  lady,  in  whose 
room  there  was  a  painting  which  so  strongly 
attracted  his  notice,  that  he  found  his  attention 
diverted  from  the  sick  person,  and  absorbed 
by  the  painting :  from  that  moment  he  formed 
the  resolution  of  mortifying  a  taste,  which  he 
found  so  intrusive,  and  so  obstructive  to  him 
in  his  nobler  pursuits ;  and  determined  never 
afterwards  to  frequent  the  exhibition. 

Nor  was  his  intrepid  and  inflexible  firm- 


*  Mr.  Wilson  justly  remarks  of  our  friend,  that  "the 
determination  and  grandeur  of  his  mind  displayed  his 
faith  to  peeuhar  advantage.  This  divine  principle  quite 
realized  and  substantiated  to  him  the  things  which  are 
not  seen  and  eternal.  It  was  absolutely  like  another 
sense.  The  things  of  time  were  as  nothing.  Every 
thing  that  came  before  liim  was  referred  to  a  spiritual 
standard.  His  one  great  object  was  fi.xcd,  and  this 
object  engrossed  his  whole  soul.  Here  his  foot  stood 
immoveable,  as  on  a  rock.  His  hold  on  the  truths  of 
the  Scriptures  was  so  firm,  that  he  acted  on  them  boldly 
and  unreservedly.  He  went  all  lengths,  and  risked  all 
consequences,  on  the  word  and  promise  of  God." 


NESS  less  conspicuous,  whenever  the  interests 
of  truth  and  the  honor  of  Christ  were  con-' 
cerned.  The  world  in  arms  would  not  have 
appalled  him,  while  the  glory  of  Christ  was  in  ' 
his  view.  Nor  do  I  believe  that  he  would  have 
hesitated  for  a  moment,  after  he  had  given  to 
nature  her  just  tribute  of  feeding  and  of  tears, 
to  go  forth  from  his  family,  and  join  "  the 
noble  army  of  martyrs"  who  expired  in  the 
flames  in  Smithfield,  had  the  honor  of  his  Mas- 
ter called  him  to  this  sacrifice  ;  nor  would  his 
knees  have  trembled,  nor  his  look  clianged. 

Yet,  I  cannot  but  add,  that  this  firmness  ne- 
ver degenerated  into  rudeness.  He  knew  and 
observed  all  those  decencies  of  life,  which 
render  mutual  intercourse  agreeable ;  and  he 
had  that  ease  of  manner,  among  all  classes  of 
society,  which  bespoke  perfect  self-possessioii 
and  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  world.  His 
address  in  meeting  the  manners  and  habits  of 
thinking  of  persons  of  rank,  either  when  they 
were  inquiring  into  religion  or  under  affliction, 
was,  perhaps,  scarcely  to  be  equalled. 

The  associations  in  our  friend's  mind  were 
often  of  a  very  humorous  kind.  He  had  a 
strong  natural  turn  for  associations  of  this 
nature,  which  threw  a  great  vivacity  and  charm 
over  his  familiar  conversation — employed  as 
it  was,  in  the  main,  like  every  faculty  of  his 
mind,  for  useful  ends.  He  was  fully  aware, 
however,  of  the  danger  of  possessing  such  a 
faculty,  and  the  temptations  to  which  it  ex- 
posed him  ;  prompted  and  supported  as  it  was 
by  a  buoyancy  of  spirits,  which  even  great 
and  lengthened  pain  could  scarcely  subdue. 
I  have  looked  at  him,  and  listened  to  him, 
with  astonishment— when  meeting,  with  a  few 
other  young  men  occasionally  at  his  house,  we 
have  found  him  dejected  and  worn  out  with 
pain — stretched  on  his  sofa,  and  declining  to 
join  in  our  conversation — till  he  caught  an  in- 
terest in  what  was  passing — when  the  ques- 
tion of  an  inquiring  or  burdened  conscience 
has  roused  him  to  an  exertion  of  his  great 
mind— he  has  risen  from  his  sofa — he  has  for- 
got his  sufferings — and  he  has  left  us  nothing 
to  do  but  to  admire  and  treasure  up  most  pro- 
found and  impressive  remarks  on  the  Scrip- 
ture, on  the  heart,  and  on  the  world. 

The  mention  of  his  humor  and  his  vivacity 
of  spirit  leads  me  to  remark,  that  I  am  not 
writing  a  panegyric,  but  drawing  a  character. 
No  likeness  can"  be  faithful,  while  the  best  ori- 
ginal is  such  as  he  must  be  in  the  present 
state,  if  it  carry  no  shades.  I  have  no  wish 
to  conceal  the  shades  of  this  extraordinary 
character.  Sternness  and  levity  were  the  two 
constitutional  evils,  which  most  severely  ex- 
ercised him.  They  seem  to  have  been  the 
necessary  result,  in  an  imperfect  being,  of  the 
union  of  that  masculine  and  original  vigor 
with  liumor  and  an  ardent  fancy,  which  met 
in  the  structure  of  his  mind.  So  far,  indeed, 
had  grace  triumphed  over  these  constitutional 
enemies,  that  the  very  opposite  features  were 
the  most  prominent  in  his  character ;  and  no 
one  could  approach  him  witliout  feeling  him- 
self with  a  most  tender  and  serious  mind.  I 
speak  of  those  occasional  tlnillilion'-.  which 


10 


CHARACTER   OF   MR.  CECIL. 


tended  to  remind  him,  that,  though  he  was 
invested  with  a  new  and  triumphant  nature, 
he  was  yet  at  home  in  the  body,  and  subject  to 
the  recurrence  of  his  constitutional  infirmities. 

Yet,  though  Mr.  Cecil  felt  occasionally 
temptations  to  levity,  through  the  buoyancy 
and  spring  of  his  animal  spirits,  his  prevailing 
temper  was  of  a  quite  opposite  description. 
A  sensibility  of  spirit,  with  his  view  of  human 
nature  and  of  the  world,  threw  a  cast  of  me- 
lancholy over  his  mind.  He  was  far  more 
disposed  to  weep  over  tlie  guilt  and  misery  of 
man,  than  to  smile  at  his  follies.  "  I  have," 
said  he,  "  a  salient  principle  in  me.  My  spi- 
rits never  sink.  Yet  I  have  a  strong  dash  of 
melancholy.  It  is  a  high  and  exquisite  feel- 
ing. When  I  first  awake  in  the  morning,  I 
could  often  weep  with  pleasure.  The  holy 
calm,  the  silence,  the  freshness,  thrill  through 
my  soul.  At  such  moments  I  should  feel  tlie 
presence  of  any  person  to  be  intrusion  and 
impertinence,  and  common  affairs,  nauseous. 
The  stillness  of  an  empty  house  is  paradise  to 
me.  The  man  who  has  never  felt  thus  cannot 
be  made  to  understand  what  I  mean."' 

"  Hooker's  dying  thought,"  he  added,  "  is 
congenial  to  my  spirit.  'I  am  going  to  leave 
a  world  disordered,  and  churcli  disorganized, 
for  a  world  and  a  church  where  every  angel 
and  every  rank  of  angels  stand  before  the 
throne  in  the  very  post  God  has  assigned 
them.'  I  am  obliged  habitually  to  turn  my  eye 
from  the  wretched  disorders  of  the  world  and 
the  church,  to  the  beauty,  harmony,  meekness, 
and  glory  of  a  better  world." 

On  another  occasion  he  said — "  I  have  been 
long  in  the  habit  of  viewing  every  thing  around 
me  as  in  a  state  of  alienation.  I  have  no  hold 
on  my  dearest  comforts.  My  children  must 
separate  from  me.  One  has  his  lot  cast  in 
one  place,  and  another  elsewhere.  It  maybe 
my  particular  leaning,  but  I  have  never  leaned 
toward  my  comforts  without  finding  them  give 
way.  A  sharp  warning  has  met  me — '  These 
are  aliens,  and  as  an  alien  live  thou  among 
them.'  We  may  use  our  comforts  by  the  way. 
We  may  take  up  the  pitcher  to  drink,  but  the 
moment  we  begin  to  admire,  God  will  in  love 
dash  it  to  pieces.  But  1  feel  no  such  aliena- 
tion from  the  church.  I  am  united  to  Christ, 
and  to  all  his  glorified  and  living  members,  by 
an  indissoluble  bond.  Here  my  mind  can 
centre  and  sympathize  without  suspicion  or 
fear." 

"  I  feel,"  he  would  say,  "  a  congeniality 
with  the  character  of  Jeremiah.  I  seem  to 
understand  him.  1  could  approach  him,  and 
feel  encouraged  to  familiarity.  It  is  not  so 
with  Elijah  or  Ezekiel.  There  is  a  rigor  or 
severity  about  them  which  seems  to  repel  me 
to  a  distance,  and  excites  reverence  rather 
than  sympathy  and  love." 

In  a  very  interesting  case  on  which  I  con- 
sulted him,  he  gave  me  a  striking  view  of  this 
feature  in  his  character—"  1  should  have  fal- 
len myself  into  an  utterly  different  mode  of 
conducting  the  affair.  But  you  have  not  tlie 
melancholy  in  your  constitution  which  I  have, 
and  therefore  to  look  for  my  mode  of  thinking 


in  you,  would  be  expecting  what  ought  not  to 
be  expected.  This  is  a  strong  alterative  in 
your  dispensation.  Now  I  have  long  been  in 
the  habit  of  viewing  every  thing  of  that  aspect 
rather  in  a  melancholy  light.  You  are  stand- 
ing on  the  justice,  the  reason,  the  truth  of 
your  cause.  I  should  have  heard  God  saying, 
'  Son  of  man,  follow  me.'  It  would  have  led 
me  into  a  speculative — mystical  sort  of  way. 
[  should  have  seen  in  it  the  flood  that  is  sweep- 
ing over  the  earth — the  utter  bankruptcy  of  all 
human  affairs.  Most  men,  if  they  had  stood 
by  and  compared  our  conduct,  would  have 
commended  yours  as  rational,  but  condemned 
mine  as  enthusiastic — as  connecting  things 
together  which  had  no  proper  connexion ;  but 
this  is  my  way  of  viewing  every  alterative  in 
my  dispensation." 

"  The  heart,"  said  he,  "  must  be  divorced 
from  its  idols.  Age  does  a  great  deal  in  curing 
the  man  of  his  frenzy ;  but,  if  God  has  a  spe- 
cial work  for  a  man,  he  takes  a  shorter  and 
sharper  course  with  him.  Stand  ready  for  it. 
I  have  been  in  both  schools.  Bleeding  and 
cauterizing  have  done  much  for  me,  and  age 
has  done  much  also — Can  I  any  longer  taste 
U'hat  I  eat  or  ivhat  I  drink  .?" 

Though  the  Memoir  of  Mr.  Cecil's  life,  and 
the  letters  which  are  subjoined,  bear  ample 
testimony  to  the  tenderness  of  his  relative 
AFFECTIONS,  yct  I  caunot  but  add  here  what  a 
friend  wrote  on  visiting  him,  many  years  be- 
fore his  decease,  at  a  time  when  he  was  ex- 
pecting the  death  of  Mrs.  Cecil : — "  Mrs.  Cecil 
was  ill.  I  called  on  Mr.  Cecil.  I  found  him 
in  his  study,  sitting  over  his  Bible  in  great  sor- 
row. His  tears  fell  so  fast,  that  he  could  only 
utter  broken  sentences.  He  said,  '  Christians 
do  well  to  speak  of  the  grace,  love,  and  good- 
ness of  God  ;  but  we  must  remember  that  he 
is  a  holy  and  jealous  God.  Judgment  must 
begin  at  the  house  of  God.  This  severe  stroke 
is  but  a  farther  call  to  me  to  arise  and  shake 
myself.  My  hope  is  still  firm  in  God.  He 
who  sends  the  stroke,  will  bear  me  up  under 
it ;  and  I  have  no  doubt,  but  if  I  saw  the  whole 
of  his  design,  I  should  say,  '  Let  her  be  taken !' 
Yet,  while  there  is  life,  I  cannot  help  saying, 
'  Spare  her  another  year,  that  I  may  be  a  lit- 
tle prepared  for  her  loss!'  I  know  I  have 
higher  ground  of  comfort ;  but  1  shall  deeply 
feel  tlie  taking  away  of  the  dying  lamp.  Her 
excellence  as  a  wife  and  a  mother,  I  am  obliged 
to  keep  out  of  sight,  or  I  should  be  over- 
whelmed. All  I  can  do  is,  to  go  from  text  to 
text,  as  a  bird  from  spray  to  spray.  Our  Lord 
said  to  his  disciples,  Where  is  your  faith?  God 
has  given  her  to  be  my  comfort  these  many 
years,  and  shall  I  not  trust  him  for  the  future  ■? 
This  is  0)ily  a  farther  and  more  expensive  edu- 
cation for  the  work  of  the  ministry ;  it  is  but 
saying  more  closely,  '  W^ill  you  pay  the  price  V 
If  she  should  die,  I  shall  request  all  my  friends 
never  once  to  mention  her  name  to  me.  I 
can  gather  no  help  from  what  is  called  friendly 
condolence.  Job's  friends  understood  grief 
better  when  they  sat  down  and  spake  not  a 
word." 

Our  departed  friend  was,  at  once,  a  public 


CHARACTER    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


and  a  retired  man.  While  his  sacred  office, 
exercised  for  many  years  in  a  conspicuous 
sphere,  brought  him  much  before  the  world, 
his  turn  of  mind  was  retired — he  courted  soli- 
tude— he  held  converse  there  with  God,  and 
his  own  great  spirit  mingled  with  the  mighty 
dead  ;  he  had  such  a  practical  knowledge  and 
deep  impression  of  the  nothingness  of  the 
whole  world  compared  with  spiritual  and  eter- 
nal realities,  and  he  had  so  deeply  felt,  and  so 
thoroughly  despised  its  lying  pretensions  to 
meet  the  wants  and  to  satisfy  the  longings  of 
the  immortal  soul,  that  it  was  no  sacrifice  to 
him  to  turn  away  from  the  shows  and  pursuits 
of  life,  and  to  shut  out  all  the  splendor  and 
seductions  of  the  world. 

Yet  this  retired  spirit  was  not  unsocial,  mo- 
rose, or  repulsive.  No  one  called  him  from 
his  retirement  to  ask  spiritual  counsel,  but  he 
was  met  with  tenderness  and  urbanity.  No 
congenial  mind  encountered  his,  without  eli- 
citing sparks  both  of  benevolence  and  wisdom. 
Not  a  child  in  his  family  could  carry  its  little 
complaints  to  him,  but  he  would  stop  the  career  | 
of  his  mind  to  listen  and  relieve.  [ 

His   study  was  his  favorite   retreat.     His  ■ 
station  exposed  him  to  constant  interruption,  [ 
some  necessary,  and  others  arising  from  the 
injudiciousness  of  those  who  applied  to  him.  ' 
It  was  not  unusual  with  him  to  make  use  of  ' 
his  power  of  abstraction  on  these  occasions. 
Time  was  too  valuable  to  be  lavished  away  on 
the   inconsideration   of  some   of  those  who 
thought  it  necessary  to  call  on  him.     It  was 
generally  his   practice,   not   immediately   to 
obey  a  summons  from  his  study,  but  when  he  j 
knew  he  had  to  do  w'ith  persons  who  would 
occupy  much  of  his  time  by  a  long  conversa-  j 
tion  before  the  business  was  brought  forward,  i 
rather  than  hurt  their  feelings  he  would  cany  j 
down  in  his  mind  the  train  of  thought  which  I 
he  was  pursuing  in  his  study,  and,  while  that ; 
which  Vtas  beside  the  purpose  played  on  his  j 
ear,  his  mind  was  following  the  subject  on 
which  it  had  entered  before.  j 

Some  men  are  at  home  in  society :  the  wide  | 
world  is  their  dwelling-place ;  they  are  known  | 
and  read  of   all  men ;   they  have  a  pecuhar 
talent  for  improving  mixed  society.     But  this  : 
was  not  the  character  of  Mr.  Cecil.     He  un-  ^ 
folded  himself,  indeed,  to    his   friends ;    but  | 
those  friends  could  not  but  feel,  that,  when  j 
they  broke  in  on  his  retirement  for  any  other  i 
objects  than  what  were  connected  with  his  ' 
high  calling,  they  were  intruders  on  inestima- 
ble   time.      I   had,  indeed,  the  privilege  and 
happiness  of  free  access  to  him  at  all  times, 
for   a  considerable  course  of  years,  while  I 
was  his  assistant  in  the  ministry ;  but,  for  the 
reasons  just  assigned,  though  I  \vas  a  diligent 
observer  of  his  mind  and  habits,  I  feel  myself 
not  prepared  to  speak  fully  of  his  more  domes- 
tic and  retired  character. 

"  Retirement,"  he  said,  "  is  my  grand  ordi- 
nance. Considerations  govern  me.  Death  is 
a  mighty  consideration  with  me.  The  utter 
vanity  of  every  thing  under  the  sun  is  another. 
If  a  man  wishes  to  influence  my  mind,  he 
must  assign  considerations  ;  and,  if  he  assigns 


one  or  two  which  will  weigh  well,  I  seem  im- 
patient to  stop  him  if  he  is  proceeding  to  as- 
sign more.  He  has  given  me  a  consideration, 
and  THAT  suffices.  The  '  Night  Thoughts'  is 
a  great  book  witli  me;  notwithstanding  its 
glaruig  nnperfeclions,  it  realizes  death  and 
vanity.  And,  because  this  is  the  frame  and 
habit  of  my  own  mind,  my  ministry  partakes 
of  it,  and  must  partake  of  it,  if  I  would  preach 
naturally  and  from  my  heart." 

In  surveying  the  personal  character  of  Mr. 
!  Cecil,  it  remains  to  speak  somewhat  more 
!  fully  of  his  intellectual  powers. 
I  His  IMAGINATION  was  uot  SO  uiuch  of  the 
I  playful  and  elegant,  as  bold,  inventive,  striking, 
and  instinctively  judicious  and  discriminating. 

His  TASTE  in  the  sister  arts  of  painting,  poe- 
try, and  music,  was  refined,  and  his  judgment 
learned.  In  his  younger  days  he  had  studied 
land  excelled  in  painting  and  music;  and, 
I  though  he  laid  them  aside  that  he  might  de- 
vote all  his  powers  to  his  work,  yet  the  savor 
of  them  so  far  remained,  that  1  have  been  wit- 
I  ness  innumerable  times,  both  in  public  andpri- 
!  vate,  to  the  felicity  of  his  illustrations  drawn 
'  from  these  subjects,  and  to  the  superiority 
I  that  his  intimate  knowledge  of  them  gave  him 
over  most  persons  with  whom  they  happened 
to  be  brought  forAvard.  His  taste,  when  young, 
was  for  Italian  music ;  but,  in  his  latter  years, 
he  was  fond  of  the  German  style,  or  rather  the 
softer  Moravian.  Anthems,  or  any  pieces 
wherein  the  words  were  reiterated,  he  disliked, 
for  public  worship  especially,  as  they  sacrificed 
the  real  spirit  of  devotion  too  much  to  the 
music.  His  feelings  on  this  subject  were  ex- 
quisite. "  Pure,  spiritual,  sublime  devotion," 
he  would  say,  '•  should  be  the  soul  of  public 
music."  He  often  lamented  the  introduction 
of  any  other  style  of  architecture  in  places 
of  worship,  beside  that  which  was  so  pecu- 
liarly appropriate,  and  which,  because  it  was 
so,  called  up  associations  best  suited  to  the 
purposes  of  meeting.  He  said  most  stri- 
kingly— "  I  never  enter  a  Gothic  church  with- 
out feeling  myself  impressed  with  something 
of  this  idea — '  Within  these  walls  has  been 
resounded  for  centuries,  by  successive  genera- 
tions, 'Thou  art  the  King  of  Glory,  0  Christ!' 
The  very  damp  that  trickles  down  the  walls, 
and  the  unsightly  green  that  moulders  upon 
the  pillars,  are  far  more  pleasing  to  me  from 
their  associations,  than  the  trim,  finished,  clas- 
sic, heathen  piles  of  the  present  fashion." 

His  powers  of  comparison,  analogy,  and 
JUDGMENT,  have  been  rarely  equalled.  These 
had  been  exercised  so  long,  and  with  so  much 
energy,  on  all  the  conditions  and  relations 
around  him— on  the  word  of  God — on  his 
own  mind — on  the  history,  opinions,  passions, 
prejudices,  and  motives  of  men  in  every  age. 
and  of  every  character  and  station — on  moral 
causes  and  eflects — on  every  subject  that  can 
come  within  the  grasp  of  a  philosophic  mind- 
that  the  result  was  a  wisdom  so  promineiu  and 
commanding,  that  every  man  felt  himself  with 
a  mind  of  tlie  verj- first  order  both  in  capabihty 
and  acquirement.  In  some  cases,  wherein  my 
wishes,  perhaps,  formed  my  opinions :  and, 


CHARACTER    OF   MR.  CECIL. 


trying  to  hide  the  truth  from  myself,  1  have 
asked  his  opinion  as  a  confirmation  of  my 
own — he  has  mimasked  >-iy  heart  to  itself, 
by  his  wise  and  searching  replies.  His  deci- 
sions were  more  according  to  circumstances 
than  in  most  men  ;  and,  when  he  gave  them, 
it  would  generally  be  with  a  declaration  that 
other  circumstances  might  wholly  change  the 
aspect  of  the  thing  ;  and  he  did  this  in  such  a 
manner— if  I  may  judge  by  my  own  case— as 
often  to  make  a  man  look  about  him,  and  be- 
think himself  what  a  treacherous  and  blind 
party  he  liad  to  transact  with  in  his  bosom. 

To  those  wlio  did  not  know  him  intimately, 
he  might  sometimes  appear  to  want  a  quick- 
ness of  perception.  The  appearance  of  this 
faculty  is  often  assumed,  where  God  has  not 
givenU.  Where  tlie  mind  does  decide  rapidly, 
its  conclusions  are  generally  partial  and  defec- 
tive, in  proportion  to  their  rapidity.  Intuition 
is  not  a  faculty  of  the  present  condition  of 
being,  whatever  it  may  be  of  that  toward 
which  we  are  advancing.  He  affected  no 
such  quality,  yet  he  possessed  more  of  it  than 
most  men.  Wlien  he  did  not  fully  understand 
Avhat  was  addressed  to  him,  he  said  so ;  and 
his  mind  was  so  familiar  Avith  the  difficulty  of 
discovering  the  truth  through  the  veils  and 
shades  thrown  over  her  by  prejudice  and  self- 
love,  that  he  did  not  hastily  bring  himself  to 
think  that  he  possessed  your  full  meaning. 

His  good  sense  and  wisdom  led  him  to  avoid 

ALL    PECULIARITY    AiND     ECCEXTRICIT V.        Hc    WaS 

decidedly  adverse  to  every  thing  of  this  nature. 
"  When  any  thing  peculiar  appears,"  he  would 
say,  "  in  a  religious  man's  manners,  or  dress, 
or  furniture,  this  is  supposed  by  the  world  to 
constitute  his  religion.  A  clergyman,  indeed, 
is  allowed  by  common  consent,  and  indeed  it 
is  but  decent  in  him,  to  have  every  thing  about 
him  plain  and  substantial,  ratlier  than  orna- 
mental and  fasliionable." 

The  personal  character  of  Mr.  Cecil  had 
a  manifest  influence  on  his  MINISTERIAL. 
We  find  him  frequently  accounting  for  those 
views  and  feelings  which  prevailed  m  his  min- 
istry, by  a  reference  to  his  constitution  and 
his  early  history. 

His    SENTIMENTS    ON    THE    MINISTERIAL    OFFICE 

are  scattered  through  his  writings,  as  this 
was  ever  present  to  his  mind.  Wherever 
he  was,  and  whatever  was  his  employment, 
he  was  always  the  Christian  minister.  He 
was  ever  on  the  watch  to  do  the  tvork  of  an 
evangelist,  and  to  make  full  proof  of  his  min- 
is try. 

I  have  collected  together  his  thoughts  on  this 
subject  in  some  sections  of  his  "  Remains ;"  and 
I  think  it  impossible  that  any  young  minister 
should  read  these  thoughts,  without  imbibing 
a  higher  estimation  of  his  sacred  office.  More 
will  be  found  on  tliesc  points  in  the  following 
views  of  his  ministerial  character  gathered 
from  his  own  lips. 

These  views  were  most  striking  and  sub- 
lime. '•  A  minister  is  a  Levite.  In  general, 
he  has,  and  he  is  to  have,  no  inheritance 
among  his  brethren.     Other  men  are  not  Le- 


vites.  They  must  recur  to  means,  from  which 
a  minister  has  no  right  to  expect  any  thing. 
Their  affairs  are  all  the  little  transactions  of 
this  world.  Rut  a  minister  is  called  and  seT; 
apart  for  a  high  and  sublime  business.  His 
transactions  are  to  be  between  the  living  and 
the  dead— between  heaven  and  earth  ;  and  he 
must  stand  as  with  wings  on  his  shoulders. 
He  must  look,  therefore,  for  every  thing  in 
his  affairs  to  be  done  for  him  and  before  his 
eyes.  I  am  at  a  loss  to  conceive  how  a  min- 
ister, with  right  feelings,  can  plot  and  contrive 
for  a  living.  If  he  is  told  that  there  is  such  a 
thing  for  liim  if  he  will  make  such  an  applica- 
tion, and  that  it  is  to  be  so  obtained  and  so 
only,  all  is  well — but  not  a  step  farther.  It  is 
in  vain,  iiowever,  to  put  any  man  on  acting  in 
this  manner,  if  he  be  not  a  Levite  in  principle 
and  in  character.  These  must  be  the  expres- 
sions of  a  nature  communicated  to  him  from 
God — a  high  principle  of  faith  begetting  sim- 
plicity. He  must  be  an  eagle  towering  toward 
heaven  on  strong  pinions.  The  barn-door  hen 
must  continue  to  scratch  her  grains  out  of  the 
dunghill." 

He  thought  that  the  life  of  a  minister,  with 
respect  to  worldly  affairs,  ought  to  be  pecu- 
liarly above  that  of  other  men,  a  life  of  faith. 
It  was  his  maxim  to  lay  out  no  money  unne- 
cessarily— and,  with  this  principle,  he  regard- 
ed his  purse  as  in  God's  hands,  and  found  it 
like  the  barrel  of  meal  and  the  cruise  of  oil. 
He  confessed  that  he  could  advise  this  con- 
duct in  no  case  but  in  that  of  a  Christian  min- 
ister, who  was  a  wise  and  prudent,  as  well  as 
right-hearted  manager  of  his  affairs.  His  habit 
was,  to  be  the  child  of  simplicity  and  faith — 
acting  as  a  servant  of  God,  on  those  principles 
which  he  judged  most  suitable  to  his  character 
and  station. 

He  had  exalted  ideas  of  ministerial  author- 
ity— not  the  authority  which  results  merely 
from  office,  but  from  office  united  with  per- 
sonal character — not  the  claims  of  priestly 
arrogance,  but  the  claims  of  priestly  dignity. 
"  I  never  choose  to  forget  that  I  am  a  priest, 
because  I  would  not  deprive  myself  of  the 
rigiit  to  dictate  in  my  ministerial  capacity.  I 
cannot  allow  a  man,  therefore,  to  come  to  me 
merely  as  a  friend,  on  his  spiritual  affairs,  be- 
cause I  should  have  no  authority  to  say  to 
him,  '  Sir,  you  must  do  so  and  so.'  I  cannot 
suffer  my  best  friends  to  dictate  to  me  in  any 
thing  which  concerns  my  ministerial  duties. 
I  have  often  liad  to  encounter  this  spirit ;  and 
there  would  be  no  end  of  it,  if  I  did  not  check 
and  resist  it.  I  plainly  tell  them  that  they 
know  nothing  of  the  matter.  1  ask  tliem  if  it 
is  decent,  that  a  man  immersed  in  other  con- 
cerns should  pretend  to  know  my  affairs  and 
duties  better  than  myself,  who,  as  they  ought 
to  believe,  make  them  the  study  of  my  life. 
1  liave  been  disgusted — deeply  disgusted— at 
the  manner  in  which  some  men  of  flaming 
religious  profession  talk  of  certain  preachers. 
They  estimate  them  just  as  Garrick  would  have 
estimated  the  worth  of  players,  or  as  Handel 
would  have  ranged  an  orchestra.  '  Such  an  one 
is  clever — he  is  a  master.'— Clever ! — a  mas- 


CHARACTER    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


PRESERVING  ATTENTION    abOVC    mOSt   111611.       All 

his  effort  was  directed,  first  to  engape  atten- 
tion, and  then  to  repay  it— to  allure  curiosity, 
and  then  to  gratify  it. 


Till  the 


ter! — Worth,  and  character,  and  dignity  are  of 
no  weight  in  the  scale." 

These  views  are  just  and  noble ;  and  they 
are  suited  to  his  own  great  mind,  and  the  en- 
tire hold  which  his  office  had  on  his  heart. 

But— listening  with  his  whole  soul  to  that  in-    nothing  could  be  effected  on  the  mind  "  SnmT 
junction,  Mediate  on  these  tMngs  gr.e  thyself    times  he  would  hafe  recoui-s"  L  u,^^ 
wholly  to  them-xt  may  be  doubted  whether  he    Ihods,  suited,  indeed,  to  his  auditor"  to   waken 
did  not  sometimes  challenge  to  his  office  more    and  fix  their  minds.    "  I  was  once  meaclng  " 
respect  than  the  party  concerned  could  be  ex-  j  he  said,  "  a  charity  sermon  where  the  conere- 


attention  was  gained,  he  felt  that 


pected  to  allow  due.  ,  gation  was  very  large,  and  chiefly  of  the  lower 

Mr.  Cecil  s  preparation  and  training  for  ;  order.  I  found  it  impossible,  by  my  usual  me- 
thod of  preaching,  to  gain  their  attention.  It 
was  in  the  afternoon,  and  my  hearers  seemed 


PREPARATION    AND    TRAINING    FOR 

THIS  EXALTED  OFFICE  havc  bceii  already  spoken 
of  in  the  view  of  his  personal  character.  This 
was,  as  has  been  seen,  of  no  common  kind. 


to  meet  nothing  in  my  preaching  which 


His  QUALIFICATIONS  FOR  THE  DISCHARGE  OF  ,  Capable  of  rousing  them*  out  of  the  slupefac- 
THE  MINISTRY  werc  peculiar.  The  great  nat-  tion  of  a  full  dinner.  Some  lounged  and  some 
ural  powers  which  God  had  given  him  were  { turned  their  backs  on  me.  '  I  must  have  at- 
moulded  and  matured  by  the  training  and  dis-  tention,'  I  said  to  myself.  '  I  will  be  heard  ' 
cipline  through  which  he  was  led,  and  were  j  Tlie  case  was  desperate  ;  and  in  despair,  I 
consecrated  by  grace  to  the  service  of  his  sought  a  desperate  remedy.  I  exclaimed 
Master.  It  will  not  be  requisite  to  recapitu-  ,  aloud,  '  Last  Monday  morning  a  man  was 
late  what  has  been  said  on  this  subject.  I  hanged  at  Tyburn'— instantly  the  face  of  things 
'  shall  here  speak  only  of  those  qualifications  i  was  changed !  All  was  silence  and  expecta- 
which  were  more  appropriate  to  him  as  a  [  tion !  I  caught  their  ear,  and  retained  it 
public  teacher.  ;  through  the  sermon."    This  anecdote   leads 

His  LEARNING  coHsisted  more  in  the  knowl-  ;  me  to  observe,  that  Mr.  Cecil  had,  in  an  unu- 
f^dge  of  other  men's  ideas,  than  in  an  accurate  ;  sual  degree,  the  talent  of  adapting  his  ministry 
acquaintance  with  the  niceties  of  the  Ian-  ,  to  his  congregation.  While  he  was,  for  in- 
guages.  Yet  he  was  better  acquainted  with  i  stance,  preaching  on  the  same  day  at  Loth- 
these,  than  many  who  devote  a  disproportion-  j  bury,  at  St.  John's  morning  and  afternoon, 
Hte  time  to  this  acquisition.  His  incessant  ;  and  at  Spitalfields  in  the  evening,  he  found 
application,  chiefly  by  candle-light,  when  at  \  four  congregations  at  these  places,  in  many 
Oxford,  to  the  study  of  Greek,  of  which  he  !  respects  quite  distinct  from  one  another;  and 
was  enthusiastically  fond,  brought  on  an  al-  yet  he  adapted  his  preaching,  with  admirable 
most  total  loss  of  sight  for  six  months.  He  ,  skill,  to  meet  their  habits  of' thinking, 
had  determined  to  become  a  perfect  mas-  But  when  he  had  gained  the  attention,  he 
ter  of  the  niceties  of  that  refined  and  noble  j  was  ever  on  the  watch  not  to  weary  it.  He 
language.  The  counsel,  however,  which  he  j  seemed  to  have  continually  before  his  eyes 
received  from  Dr.  Bacon,  and  which  is  re-  i  the  sentiments  of  our  great  critic  and  moral- 
corded  in  his  "  Remains,"  under  the  head  of  j  ist  :*  "  Tediousness  is  the  most  fatal  of  all 
"  Miscellaneous  Remarks  on  the  Christian  j  faults  ;  negligences  or  errors  are  single  and 
Ministry,"  put  him  on  proportioning  his  atten-  local,  but  tediousness  pervades  the  whole  ; 
tion  more  according  to  the  future  utility  of  •.  other  faults  are  censured  and  forgotten,  but 
his  pursuits  than  he  had  been  accustomed  to.  j  the  power  of  tediousness  propagates  itself. 
"  I  was  struck  with  his  advice,"  he  said.  "  I '  He  that  is  weary  the  first  hour,  is  more  weary 
had  an  unsettled  sort  of  religion,  but  enough  \  the  second  ;  as  bodies  forced  into  motion, 
to  make  me  see  and  choose  the  truth  which  .  contrary  to  their  tendency,  pass  more  and 
he  set  before  me."  i  more  slowly  through  every  successive  inter- 

So  solid  and  extensive  was  Mr.  Cecil's  real  |  val  of  space."  Mr.  Cecil  would  say,  "  You 
learning,  that  there  were  no  important  points,  j  have  a  certain  quantity  of  attention  to  work 
in  morals  or  religion,  on  which  he  had  not  ;  on ;  make  the  best  use  of  it  while  it  lasts 
read  the  best  authors,  and  made  up  his  mind  j  The  iron  will  cool,  and  then  nothing,  or  worse 
on  the  most  mature  deliberation;  nor  could  than  nothing,  is  done.  If  a  preacher  will 
any  topic  be  started  in  history  or  philosophy. 


on  subjects  of  art  or  of  science,  with  which 


he  was  not  found  more  generally  acquainted    in  his  discussion,  he  may  limit  a  written  ser 


leave  unsaid   all  vain  repetitions,  and  watch 
against  undue  length  in  his  entrance  and  width 


than  other  men.  But  while  he  could  lay  these 
parts  of  learning  under  contribution  to  aid  him 
in  his  one  object  of  impressing  truth  on  man, 
he  was  a  master  in  the  learning  which  is  more 
peculiarly  appropriate  to  his  profession.  He 
was  so  much  in  the  habit  of  daily  reading  the 
Scriptures  in  the  originals,  that,  as  he  told  me, 
he  went  to  this  employ  naturally  and  insensi- 
bly. He  limited  himself  to  no  stated  quantity; 
but,  as  his  time  allowed,  he  read  one  or  two, 
and  sometimes  five  or  six  chapters  daily. 
Mr.  Cecil  had  the  power  of  exciting  and 
103  24 


mon  to  half  an  hour,  and  one  from  notes  to 
forty  minutes;  and  this  time  he  should  not 
allow  himself  to  exceed,  except  on  special 
occasions." 

His  POWER  OF  illustration  was  great  and 
versatile.  His  topics  were  chiefly  taken  from 
Scripture  and  from  life.  His  manner  of  illus- 
trating his  subjects  by  Scripture  examples,  was 
the  most  finished  I  ever  heard.  They  were 
never  introduced  violently  or  abruptly  ;  but 


+  Lives  of  the  Poets,  vol.  iii,  p.  35. 


CHARACTER    OF   MR.  CECIL. 


his  matter  was  so  moulded  in  preparation  for 
them,  by  a  few  well  turned  sentences,  that  the 
illustration  seemed  to  be  placed  in  the  Scrip- 
ture almost  for  the  sake  of  the  doctrine.  The 
general  features  of  the  character  or  history 
were  left  in  the  back-ground,  and  those  only 
which  were  appropriate  to  the.  matter  m  hand 
were  brought  forward,  and  were  thus  present- 
ed with  great  force  to  the  mind.  His  talent 
in  discriminating  the  striking  features,  and 
connecting  them  with  his  matter,  was  so  pecu- 
liar, that  the  histories  of  Abraham,  of  Jacob, 
of  David,  and  of  St.  Paul,  seemed  in  his  hands 
to  be  ever  new,  and  to  be  exhaustless  treasures 
of  illustration. 

The  turn  both  of  his  mind  and  of  his  expe- 
rience seemed  to  lead  him  to  this  method. 
What  he  did,  therefore,  with  ease  and  feeling, 
it  was  natural  should  be  done  frequently;  and, 
accordingly,  I  have  scarcely  ever  heard  a  ser- 
mon from  him  in  which  there  were  not  re- 
peated exercises  of  this  peculiar  talent ;  and 
in  some  sermons  almost  the  entire  subject  has 
been  treated  in  this  manner. 

This  talent  of  illustrating  his  subjects,  and 
particularly  of  seizing  incidents  for  improve- 
ment, gave  an  edge  to  his  wise  admonitions  in 
private,  and  fixed  them  deep  in  the  memory. 
Riding  with  a  friend  in  a  very  windy  day,  the 
dust  was  so  troublesome  that  his  companion 
wished  they  were  at  their  journey's  end, 
where  they  might  ride  in  the  fields  free  from 
dust ;  and  this  wish  he  repeated  more  than 
once  while  on  the  road.  When  they  reached 
the  fields,  the  flies  so  teased  his  friend's  horse, 
that  he  could  scarcely  keep  his  seat  on  the 
saddle.  On  his  bitterly  complaining,  "  Ah ! 
Sir,"  said  Mr.  Cecil,  "  when  you  were  in  the 
road  the  dust  was  your  only  trouble,  and  all 
your  anxiety  was  to  get  into  the  fields :  you 
forgot  that  the  fly  was  there  !  Now  this  is  a 
true  picture  of  human  life ;  and  you  will  find 
it  so  in  all  the  changes  you  make  in  future. 
We  know  the  trialsof  our  present  situation;  but 
the  next  will  have  trials,  and  perhaps  worse, 
though  they  may  be  of  a  difl'erent  kind." 

At  another  time,  the  same  friend  said  he 
should  esteem  it  a  favor,  if  he  would  tell  him 
of  any  thing  which  he  might  in  future  see  in 
his  conduct  which  he  thought  improper. 
"  Well,  Sir !"  he  said,  "  many  a  man  has 
directed  the  watchman  to  call  him  early  in 
the  morning,  and  has  then  appeared  very 
anxious  for  his  coming  early;  but  the  watch- 
man has  come  before  he  has  been  ready  for 
him !  I  have  seen  many  people  very  desirous 
of  being  told  their  faults ;  but  I  have  seen  very 
few  who  were  pleased  when  they  received  the 
information.  However,  I  like  to  receive  an 
invitation,  and  I  have  no  reason  to  suppose 
you  will  be  displeased  till  I  see  it  so.  1  shall, 
therefore,  remember  that  you  have  asked 
for  it." 

His  STYLE,  particularly  in  preaching  and  in 
free  conversation,  was  easy  and  natural.  If 
he  ever  labored  his  expression,  it  was  in  search 
of  emphasis,  rather  than  precision — of  words 
which  would  penetrate  the  soul,  rather  than 
round  his  period  and  float  in  the  car.    He  con- 


sidered that  vigorous  conceptions  would  clothe 
themselves  in  the  fittest  expressions— 

Verbaque  provisam  rem  non  invila  sequentur. 
Or,  as  Milton  has  admirably  said—"  True  elo- 
quence I  find  to  be  none,  but  the  serious  and 
hearty  love  of  truth ;  and  that,  whose  mind 
soever  is  fully  possessed  with  a  fervent  desire 
to  know  good  things,  and  with  the  dearest 
charity  to^infuse  the  knowledge  of  them  into 
others,  when  such  a  man  would  speak,  his 
words,  like  so  many  nimble  and  airy  servitors, 
trip  about  him  at  command,  and  in  well  ordered 
files,  as  he  would  wish,  fall  abruptly  into  their 
own  places." 

His  written  style  has  less  ease  than  that  of 
his  conversation  or  preaching.  He  excelled 
rather  in  strong  intuitive  sense,  than  in  a  train 
of  arguments ;  and  more  in  the  liveliness  of 
his  thoughts,  than  in  their  arrangement.  He 
would  put  down  his  thoughts  as  they  arose— 
often  at  separate  times,  and  as  suggested  by 
the  occasion— and  was  not  always  nice  in  re- 
jecting obsolete  expressions,  or  antithesis  in 
sense.  This  occasioned  a  want  of  flow  and  ease 
in  many  parts  of  his  writings,  which  was  obvia- 
ted bythe  warmth  of  conversation  or  preaching. 

Impression  was  the  leading  feature  of  his 
ministry.  Perhaps  the  information  conveyed 
by  it  to  the  mind  was  not  sufficiently  systema- 
tic and  minute.  He  had  seen  so  much  the 
evil  of  spending  the  preacher's  time  in  doctri- 
nal statements,  that  possibly  there  was  some 
deficiency  in  this  respect  in  his  own  practice. 
When,  indeed,  he  had  to  introduce  religion  to 
his  congregations  at  St.  John's  or  Cobham, 
on  his  first  entering  on  those  charges,  he  dealt 
with  them  as  a  people  needing  inforrnation  on 
first  principles ;  but  my  remark  applies  to  the 
habit  and  course  of  his  ministry.  For,  how- 
ever true  It  is,  that,  when  a  man  becomes  a 
serious  reader  of  God's  word,  he  must  grow 
in  the  knowledge  of  the  truth;  yet  many  will 


still  read  tlie  Bible  with  an  indiscriminating 
mind,  unless  their  minister's  statements  give 
them,  not  only  a  lucid  general  view  of  doc- 
trines, but  somewhat  of  a  systematic  and  con- 
nected view;  and  not  a  few— buried  in  the 
cares  of  the  world — will  derive  all  their  no- 
tions of  the  system  of  divine  truth  from  what 
they  hear  in  public. 

Mr.  Cecil  wrote  and  spoke  to  mankind.  He 
dealt  with  the  business  and  bosoms  of  men. 
An  energy  of  truth  prevailed  in  his  ministrjs 
which  roused  the  conscience  ;  and  a  benevo- 
lence reigned  in  his  spirit,  which  seized  the 
heart ;  yet  I  much  question  whether  the  pre- 
vailing effect  of  his  preaching  was  not  deter- 
mination grounded  on  conviction  and  admira- 
tion, rather  than  on  emotion.  When  in  per- 
fect health  and  spirits,  and  master  of  his  sub- 
ject, his  eloquence  was  finished  and  striking  ; 
but,  though  there  was  often  a  tenderness  v/hich 
awakened  corresponding  feehngs  in  the  hearer, 
yet  his  eloquence  wanted  that  vehement  pas- 
sion which  overpowers  and  carries  away  the 
minds  of  others, 

— si  vis  me  flere,  dolendum  est 
Primum  ipsi  tibi 


CHARACTER   OF   MR.  CECIL. 


This  is  the  great  secret  for  getting  hold  of  the 
heart.  But  as  not  much  of  the  impassioned 
entered  into  the  composition  of  his  nature, 
and  he  was  at  the  same  time  pre-eminent  in 
genius  and  judgment,  it  could  not.  but  follow 
that  ADMIRATION  should  aflfect  the  hearer  more 
frequently  than  strong  feeling.  A  friend  has 
told  me  that  he  has  often  lost  the  benefit  of 
the  truth  which  Mr.  Cecil  has  uttered,  in  ad- 
miration of  the  exquisite  manner  in  Avhich  it 
was  conveyed.  And  J  have  again  and  again 
detected  this  in  myself;  and  found  I  have  been 
watching  eagerly  for  what  would  fall  next  from 
him,  not  in  the  spirit  of  a  new-born  babe  that 
desires  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word  that  I  mi^i^ht 
grow  therebi/,hut  for  the  gratification  of  a  men- 
tal voluptuousness.  I  desire  no  one  will  sup- 
pose that  I  impute  to  him  any  of  the  studied 
artifices  of  eloquence.  No  man  sought  more 
than  he  did  that  his  hearers'  faith  should  not 
stand  in  the  wisdom  of  men,  but  m  the  power  of 
God.  No  man  more  sincerely  aimed  to  have 
his  speech  and  his  preaching  not  with  enticing 
loords  of  man^s  ivisdom,  but  m  demonstration  of 
the  spirit  and  of  power ;  yet,  moreover,  because 
the  preacher  was  wise,  he  still  taught  the  people 
knowledge;  yea,  he  gave  good  heed,  and  sought 
OUT  and  set  in  order  the  messages  of  divine 
mercy.  The  preacher  sought  to  find  out  ac- 
ceptable loords,  yet  that  which  was  ivritten  ivas 
upright,  even  words  of  truth.  He  could  not  but 
treat  his  subjects  in  this  exquisite  manner, 
while  his  taste,  his  genius,  and  iiis  nature  re- 
mained ;  yet  this  could  not  but  be  sanctified 
to  his  Masters  honor,  while  he  retained  the 
perfect  integrity,  the  deep  conviction,  and  the 
singleness  of  eye  which  his  Master  had  given 
him.  That  it  was  the  farthest  possible  from 
trick  and  artifice  might  be  seen  in  his  most 
familiar  conversation ;  where  his  manner, 
when  he  was  fully  called  out,  was  exactly 
what  it  was  in  the  pulpit.  His  mind  grasped 
every  subject  firmly;  his  imagination  clothed 
it  with  images— embodied  it — gave  it  life — 
called  up  nuiuberless  associations  and  illustra- 
tions ;  ii  was  realized;  it  was  present  to  him; 
his  taste  and  judgment  enabled  him  to  seize  it 
in  the  most  striking  points  of  view. 

"  His  apprehensions  of  religion,"  Mr.  Wilson 
most  justly  observes,  "  were  grand  and  ele- 
vated. His  fine  powers,  governed  by  divine 
grace,  were  exactly  calcidated  to  seize  all  the 
grandeur  of  the  Gospel.  Tiie  stupendous  mag- 
nitude of  the  objects  which  the  Bible  proposes 
to  man,  the  incomparable  sublimity  of  eternal 
pursuits,  the  astonishing  scheme  of  redemp- 
tion by  an  incarnate  Mediator,  the  native 
grandeur  of  a  rational  and  immortal  being, 
stamped  with  the  impress  of  God,  the  fall  of 
this  being  into  sin,  and  poverty,  and  meanness, 
and  guilt,  his  recovery  by  grace  to  more  than 
his  original  dignity  in  the  love  and  service  of 
his  Creator,  filled  all  his  soul.  He  seemed 
often  to  labor  with  an  imagination  occupied 
with  his  noble  theme.  He  felt,  and  he  taught, 
that  no  other  subject  was  worthy  the  consi- 
deration of  man.  In  comparison  with  it,  he 
led  his  auditors  to  condemn  and  trample  on 
all  the  petty  objects  of  this  lower  world.     Its 


meanness,  its  uncertainty,  its  deceit,  its  vanity, 
Its  vexation,  its  nothingness,  he  set  fully  in 
their  view.  He  even  made  them  look  down 
with  a  generous  concern  on  those  who  were 
buried  in  its  interests,  and  who  forgot,  amidst 
the  toys  of  children,  the  real  business  of  life." 

Some  of  his  printed  sermons  are  perfect 
models  of  simplicity,  vivacity,  and  eftect.— 
That,  for  instance,  on  the  "  Power  of  Faith." 

His  countenance,  though  not  modelled  alto- 
gether after  the  artificial  rules  of  beauty, 
beamed  m  animated  conversation  and  in  the 
pulpit,  with  the  beauty  of  a  great  and  noble 
mind.  Dignity  and  bonevolence  were  strongly 
portrayed  there.  The  variety  of  its  expres- 
sion was  admirable  :  nor  could  any  one  feel 
the  full  force  of  the  soul  which  he  threw  into 
his  discourses,  if  this  expression  was  con- 
cealed from  him  by  distance  or  situation.  His 
action  was  graceful  and  forcible  :  latterly, 
owing  perliaps  to  his  increasing  infirmities, 
and  almost  uninterrupted  pain,  it  discovered, 
I  think,  some  constraint  and  want  of  ease. 

There  was  a  familiarity  and  an  authoritt 
in  his  manner,  which,  to  strangers,  sometimes 
appeared  dogmatism.  His  manner  was,  in 
truth,  like  that  of  no  other  man.  It  was  alto- 
gether original ;  and,  because  it  was  original, 
it  sometimes  offended  those  who  had  no  other 
idea  of  manner  than  of  that  to  which  they  had 
been  accustomed.  Yet,  even  the  prejudiced 
could  not  hear  him  with  indifference.  There 
was  a  dignity  and  command,  a  decision  and 
energy,  a  knowledge  of  the  heart  and  the 
world,  an  uprightness  of  mind  and  a  desire  to 
do  good;  and  all  this,  united  with  a  tenderness 
and  affection,  which  few  could  witness  with- 
out some  favorable  impressions. 

His  most  striking  sermons  were  generally 
those  which  he  preached  from  very  short 
texts,  such  as — My  soul  hangeth  on  thee — All 
my  fresh  springs  are  in  thee — O  Lord!  teach  ync 
my  icay — As  thy  day  is,  so  shall  thy  strength  be. 
In  these  sermons,  the  whole  subject  had  pro- 
bably struck  him  at  once  ;  and  wjiat  comes  in 
this  way  is  generally  found  to  be  more  natural 
and  forcible  than  what  the  mind  is  obliged  to 
excogitate  by  its  own  laborious  efforts :  As  the 
subject  grows  out  of  the  state  of  the  mind  at 
the  time,  there  is  that  degree  of  affinity  be- 
tween them  which  occasions  the  mind  to  seize 
it  forcibly,  and  to  clothe  it  with  vivid  colors. 
A  train  of  the  most  natural  associations  pre- 
oculs  itself,  as  one  link  draws  with  it  its  kin- 
dred links.  The  attention  is  engaged — the 
mind  is  concentrated— scripture  and  life  pre- 
sent themselves  without  effort,  in  the  most 
natural  relations  which  they  bear  to  the  sub- 
ject that  has  full  possession  of  the  man,  and 
composition  becomes  easy,  and  even  inter- 
esting. 

It  was  a  frequent  and  very  useful  method 
Avitli  him,  to  open  and  explain  his  sul)ject  in 
a  verj'  brief  manner,  and  then  to  draw  infer- 
ences from  it ;  which  inferences  formed  the 
great  body  of  the  sermon,  and  were  ratlier 
matters  of  address  to  the  consciences  and 
hearts  of  his  hearers,  than  of  discussion  ;  so 
that  the  whole  subject  was  a  kind  of  applica- 


CHARACTER    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


tion.  This  seems  to  me  to  have  been  his 
most  effective  manner  of  preaching.  Take 
an  instance  : — Mat.  xviii.  20.  I.  Explain  the 
words.  II.  Raise  from  them  two  or  three 
REMARKS :  Contemplate  1.  The  glory  and  God- 
head of  our  Master :  2.  The  honor  which  he 
puts  on  his  house  and  the  assembly  of  his 
Saints :  3.  The  privilege  of  being  one  of 
Christ's  servants  whom  he  will  meet :  4.  The 
obligations  lying  on  such  servants — What  man- 
ner of  servants  ought  such  to  be? 

He  was  remarkably  observant  of  character. 
When  I  have  asked  his  opinion  of  a  person, 
he  has  frequently  surprised  me  with  such  a 
full  and  accurate  delineation  of  him,  as  he 
could  have  obtained  only  by  a  very  patient 
and  penetrating  observation.  The  reason  of 
this  appeared,  when  I  learned  that  it  was  his 
custom  in  his  sermon  notes,  when  he  wished 
to  describe  a  particular  character,  not  to  put 
down  its  chief  features  as  they  occurred  to 
his  mind  from  the  general  observations  which 
he  had  made  on  men  ;  but  he  would  put  down 
the  initial  of  some  person's  name,  with  whom 
he  was  well  acquainted,  and  who  stood  in  his 
mind  as  the  representative  of  that  class  of 
characters.  He  had  nothing  to  do  then,  when 
he  came  to  enlarge  on  that  part  of  his  sub- 1 
ject,  but  strongly  to  realize  to  himself  the 
person  in  question,  and  he  would  draw  a  much 
more  vivid  picture  of  a  real  character  than  he 
could  otherwise  do.  * 

Mr.  Cecil  was  not  himself  led  to  the  know- 
ledge of  CJod  through  great  terrors  of  con- 
science :  his  ministry  did  not,  therefore,  so 
much  abound  in  delineations  of  the  workings 
and  malignity  of  sin,  as  in  those  topics  which 
grew  out  of  his  course  of  experience ;  nor 
did  he  enter  frequently  or  largely  into  the  de- 
tails of  the  spiritual  conflict.  He  was  himself 
drawn  to  God,  and  subdued  by  a  sense  of  di- 
vine mercy  and  friendship  ;  he  was  led,  there-  ' 
fore,  to  detail  largely  the  transactions  of  the  j 
believing  mind  with  God,  in  the  exercise  of 
dependance  and  submission.  i 

He  was  more  aware  than  most  men  of  the  I 

DIFFICULTY  OF  BRINGING  DOWN  THE  TRUTH  TO  THE  | 
COMPREHENSION  OF  THE  MASS  OF  HEARERS.  j 

A  young  minister  may  leave  college  with 
the  best  theory  in  the  world,  and  he  may  take 
with  him  into  a  country  parish  a  determina- 
tion to  talk  in  the  language  of  simplicity  itself; 
but  the  actual  capacity  to  make  himself  under- 
stood and  felt  is  so  far  removed  from  his  for- 
mer habits,  that  it  is  only  to  be  acquired  by 
experience.  Hear  how  wisely  Mr.  Cecil  wrote 
to  a  young  friend  about  to  take  orders : — "  I 


*  Lavater  somewhere  mentions  an  admirable  prac- 
tice of  his  own,  which  carried  our  friend's  principle 
into  constant  use  in  his  ministry.  He  fixed  on  certain 
persons  in  his  congregation,  whom  he  considered  as 
representatives  of  the  respective  classes  into  which  his 
hearers  might  be  properly  divided — amounting,  as  I 
recollect,  to  sevkn.  In  composing  his  discourses,  he 
kept  each  of  these  persons  steadily  in  his  eye ;  and 
labored  so  to  mould  his  subject  as  to  meet  the  case  of 
every  one— by  which  incomparable  rule  he  rendered 
himself  intelligible  and  interesting  to  all  classes  of  his 
flock. 


advised  him,  since  he  was  so  near  his  en- 
trance into  the  ministry,  to  lay  aside  all  other 
studies  for  the  present,  but  the  one  I  should 
now  recommend  to  him.  I  would  have  him 
select  some  very  poor  and  uninformed  per- 
sons, and  pay  them  a  visit.  His  object  should 
be  to  explain  to  them,  and  demonstrate  to 
them,  the  truth  of  the  solar  system.  He  should 
first  of  all  set  himself  to  make  that  system 
perfectly  intelligible  to  them,  and  then  he 
should  demonstrate  it  to  their  full  conviction 
against  all  tliat  the  followers  of  Tycho  Brahe, 
or  any  one  else,  could  say  against  it.  He  would 
tell  me  it  was  impossible  :  they  would  not  un- 
derstand a  single  term.  Impossible  to  make 
them  astronomers !  And  shall  it  be  thought 
an  easy  matter  to  make  them  understand 
redemption  !" 

He  gave  the  following  account  of  his  habit 

OF  PREPARATION  FOR  THE  PULPIT  : 

"  I  generally  look  into  the  portions  of  Scrip- 
ture appointed  by  the  church  to  be  read  in  the 
services  of  the  day.  I  watch,  too,  for  any  new 
light  which  may  be  thrown  on  passages  in  the 
course  of  reading,  conversation,  or  prayer.  I 
seize  the  occasions  furnished  Ijy  own  expe- 
rience— my  state  of  mind — my  family  occur- 
rences. Subjects  taken  up  in  this  manner  are 
always  likely  to  meet  the  cases  and  wants  of 
some  persons  in  the  congregation.  Some- 
times, however,  I  have  no  text  prepared  :  and 
I  have  found  this  to  arise  generally  from 
sloth :  I  go  to  work  :  this  is  the  secret :  make 
it  a  business  :  something  will  arise  where  least 
expected. 

"  It  is  important  to  begin  preparation  early. 
If  it  is  driven  off  late,  accidents  may  occur 
v/hich  may  prevent  due  attention  to  the  sub- 
ject. If  the  latter  days  of  the  week  are  oc- 
cupied, and  the  mind  driven  into  a  corner,  the 
sermon  will  usually  be  raw  and  undigested. 
Take  time  to  reject  what  ought  to  be  rejected, 
and  to  supply  what  ought  to  be  supplied. 

"  It  is  a  favorite  method  with  me  to  reduce 
the  text  to  some  point  of  doctrine.  On  that 
topic  I  enlarge,  and  then  apply  it.  I  like  to 
ask  myself — '  What  are  you  doing  1 — What  is 
your  aim  ? ' 

"  I  will  not  foretell  my  own  views  by  first 
going  to  commentators.  I  talk  over  the  sub- 
ject to  myself:  I  write  doAvn  all  that  strikes 
me  :  and  then  I  arrange  what  is  written.  After 
my  plan  is  settled,  and  my  mind  has  exhausted 
its  stores,  then  I  would  turn  to  some  of  my 
great  Doctors  to  see  if  I  am  in  no  error :  but 
I  find  it  necessary  to  reject  many  good  things 
which  the  Doctors  say ;  they  will  tell  to  no 
good  effect  in  a  sermon.  In  truth,  to  be  effect- 
ive, we  must  draw  more  from  nature  and  less 
from  the  writings  of  men :  we  must  study  the 
book  of  Providence,  the  book  of  nature,  the 
heart  of  man,  and  the  book  of  God :  we  must 
read  the  history  of  the  world :  we  must  deal 
with  matters  of  fact  before  our  eyes." 

In  respect  to  mechanical  preparation,  Mr. 
Cecil  was  in  the  habit  of  using  eight  quarto 
pages,  on  which  he  put  down  his  main  and 
subordinate  divisions,  with  such  hints  as  he 
thought  requisite.    These  notes,  written  in  au 


CHARACTER    OF    MR.    CECIL, 


open  and  legible  manner,  such  as  his  eye 
could  catch  with  ease,  he  put  into  one  of  the 
portable  quarto  Bibles,  of  which  several  edi- 
tions were  printed  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
in  a  good  type,  but,  in  consequence  of  the 
closeness  and  excellence  of  the  paper,  such 
as  bind  up  in  a  very  compact  size.  Of  these 
editions  there  are  some  *  which  are  printed 
page  for  page  with  another :  and  one  of  these 
editions  Mr.  Cecil  was  in  the  constant  habit 
of  using,  both  in  pubhc  and  in  private,  from 
the  mechanical  assistance  afforded  to  him  in 
turning  to  passages  from  the  recollection  of 
the  part  of  the  page  in  which  they  occurred. 
It  will  be  interesting  to  hear  Mr.  Cecil's  own 

ACCOUNT  OF  HIS  MANNER  OF  COMMENCING  HIS  .MIN- 
ISTRY ;  as  it  notices  mistakes  from  which  he 
was  not  only  early  but  most  effectually  deli- 
vered, and  his  remarks  on  them  may  afford  a 
serious  caution  to  ethers. 

"  I  set  out,"  he  said,  "  with  levity  in  the 
pulpit.  It  was  above  two  years  before  I  could 
get  the  victory  over  it,  though  I  strove  under 
sharp  piercings  of  conscience.  My  plan  was 
wrong.  I  had  bad  counsellors.  I  thought 
preaching  was  only  entering  the  pulpit,  and 
letting  off  a  sermon.  I  really  imagined  this 
was  trusting  to  God,  and  doing  the  thing  cle- 
verly. I  talked  with  a  wise  and  pious  man  on 
the  subject.  '  There  is  nothing,'  said  he,  '  like 
appealuig  to  facts.'  We  sat  down  and  named 
names.  We  found  men  in  my  habit  disreput- 
able. This  first  set  my  mind  right.  I  saw 
such  a  man  might  sometimes  succeed  :  but 
I  saw,  at  the  same  time,  that  whoever  would 
succeed  in  his  general  interpretations  of  Scrip- 
ture, and  would  have  his  ministry  that  of  a  loork- 
man  that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed — must  be  a 
laborious  man.  What  can  be  produced  by  men 
who  refuse  this  labors — a  few  raw  notions, 
harmless,  perhaps,  in  themselves,  but  false  as 
stated  by  them.  What,  then,  should  a  young 
minister  do  ? 

His  office  says,  '  Go  to  your  books.  Go  to  re- 
tirement. Go  to  prayer.' — '  No !'  says  the  enthu- 
siast, '  Go  to  preach.  Go,  and  be  a  witness  !  '— 
A  witness  ! — of  what  ? — He  don't  know ! '' 

Thus  qualified  by  nature,  education,  and 
grace — enriched  by  his  various  manly  acqui- 
sitions— and  matured  by  experience,  he  ap- 
peared in  the  pulpit  unquestionably  as  one 
of  the  first  preachers— perhaps  the  very  first 
preacher  of  his  time. 

He  was  sincerely  attached  to  the  church 
OF  England,  both  by  principle  and  feeling— to 
her  ORDER  and  decorum.  He  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  those  obligations,  which  lay  on  him 
as  a  clergyman  ;  and,  looking  at  general  con- 
sequences, would  never  break  through  the  or- 
der and  discipline  of  the  church,  to  obtain 
any  particular,  local,  and  temporary  ends. 

In  the  more  private  exercise  of  his  pas- 
toral office,  as  a  counsellor  and  friend,  he 
manifested  great  faithfulness,  tenderness, 
and  wisdom. 


♦  I  have  compared  four  of  these  Bibles,  viz.,  Field's, 
London,  1648 — Haye's,  Camb.  1670,  and  also  that  of 
1677 — and  Buck's,  Camb.  without  date. 


In  proof  of  this,  I  might  appeal  to  what  is 
said  in  the  "  Remains,"  on  the  subject  of  "  vi- 
siting deathbeds."  I  shall  here  subjoin  a  few 
more  illustrations  of  this  part  of  his  cliaracter. 

An  interview  was  contrived  between  him 
and  a  noble  lady,  by  some  of  her  relations. 
She  began  to  hsten  to  the  affairs  of  religion. 
Her  life  had  been  gay  and  trifling.  She  knew 
that  he  understood  her  situation ;  and  she  be- 
gan to  introduce  her  case  by  saying  that  she 
supposed  he  thought  her  a  very  contemptible 
and  wicked  creature.  "  No,  Madam,  I  do  not 
look  at  you  in  that  view.  1  consider  that  you 
have  been  a  wanderer  ;  pursuing  happiness  in 
a  mistaken  road — an  immortal  being  flutter- 
ing through  the  present  short  but  important 
scene,  without  one  serious  concern  for  what 
is  to  come  after  it  is  passed  by.  And,  while 
others  know  what  is  to  happen  to  them,  and 
wait  for  it,  you  are  totally  ignorant  of  the 
subject." — "  But,  Sir,  is  it  possible  to  arrive  at 
any  certainty  with  respect  to  a  future  condi- 
tion ? " — "  Why,  wiiat  little  trifling  scenes 
would  occupy  your  ladyship  and  myself,  if 
we  were  confined  to  this  small  spot  of  a  car- 
pet that  is  under  our  feet !  The  world  is  a 
little,  mean,  despicable  scene  in  itself.  But 
we  must  leave  it ;  and  can  you  suppose  that 
we  are  left  to  step  into  another  state,  as  into 
a  dark  abyss — not  knowing  what  awaits  us 
there  !  No— the  next  step  I  take  from  the 
world  is  not  into  a  void  that  no  one  has  ex- 
plored— a  fathomless  abyss— a  chaos  of  clouds 
and  darkness — but  I  know  what  it  is — I  am 
assured  of  it."  He  said  to  me,  in  reporting 
this  conversation,  "  I  rested  on  this,  and  left 
it  to  work  on  her  mind.  I  thought  it  better 
to  defer  the  subject  of  this  assurance  to  try 
her,  and  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  she 
feels  anxious  for  our  next  occasion  of  meet- 
ing, that  she  may  hear  how  we  can  make  out 
the  grounds  of  our  assurance."  This  is  one, 
among  many  instances,  of  the  wise  methods 
in  which  he  accommodated  his  instructions  to 
the  character. 

"  Many  of  my  people,"  he  said,  "  and  espe- 
cially females,  talk  thus  to  me—'  I  am  under 
continual  distress  of  mind.  I  can  lay  hold  of 
no  permanent  ground  of  peace.  If  I  seem  to 
get  a  little,  it  is  soon  gone  again.  I  am  out  at 
sea,  without  compass  or  anchor.  My  heart 
sinks.  My  spirit  faints.  My  knees  tremble. 
All  is  dark  above,  and  all  is  horror  beneath.' — 
'  And,  pray,  what  is  your  mode  of  life  T ' — '  I 
sit  by  myself.' — '  In  this  small  room,  I  suppose, 
and  over  your  fire  1 '— '  A  considerable  part  of 
my  time.' — '  And  what  time  do  you  go  to 
bed  r — '  I  cannot  retire  till  two  or  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning.' — 'And  you  lie  late,  I  suppose, 
in  the  morning ' '— '  Frequently.' — '  And  pray, 
what  else  can  you  expect  from  this  mode  of 
life,  than  a  relaxed  and  unstrung  system— and, 
of  course,  a  mind  enfeebled,  anxious,  and  dis- 
ordered? I  understand  your  case.  (Jod  seems 
to  have  qualified  me  to  understand  it,  by  espe- 
cial dispensations.  My  natural  disposition  is 
gay,  volatile,  spirited.  My  nature  would  never 
sink.  But  1  have  sometimes  felt  my  spirit  ab- 
sorbed in  horrible  apprehensions,  without  any 


18 


CHARACTER    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


assignable  natural  cause.  Perhaps  it  was  ne- 
cessary I  should  be  suffered  to  feel  this,  that 
I  might  feel  for  others ;  for,  certainly,  no  man 
can  have  any  adequate  sympathy  with  others, 
who  has  never  thus  suffered  himself.  I  can 
feel  for  you,  therefore,  while  I  tell  you  that 
I  think  the  affair  with  you  is  chiefly  physical. 
I  myself  have  brought  on  the  same  feelings 
by  the  same  means.  I  have  sat  in  my  stiidy 
till  I  have  persuaded  myself  that  the  ceiling 
was  too  low  to  suffer  me  to  rise  and  stand 
upright ;  and  air  and  exercise  alone  could  re- 
move the  impression  from  my  mind!'" 

His  taking  the  charge  of  St.  John's  Chapel 
is  the  most  important  event  of  his  life,  as  it 
appears  to  have  been  the  sphere  for  which  he 
was  peculiarly  raised  up  and  prepared  by  Pro- 
vidence. 

The  circumstances  attending  his  establish- 
ment of  a  serious  and  devout  congregation  in 
this  place,  mark  the  strength  and  simplicity  of 
his  mind ;  while  they  may  show  the  necessity 
under  which  sucli  men  will  sometimes  be 
brought,  of  acting  for  themselves,  with  per- 
fect independence  of  the  whole  body  of  their 
brethren. 

These  circumstances  he  related  to  me  as 
follows  : — "  When  I  married,  I  lived  at  a  small 
house  at  Islington,  situated  in  the  midst  of  a 
garden,  for  which  I  paid  14/.  a  year.  My  an- 
nual income  was  then  only  80/.,  and,  with  this, 
I  had  to  support  myself,  my  wife,  and  a  ser- 
vant. I  was  then,  indeed,  minister  of  St. 
John's,  but  I  received  nothing  from  the  place 
for  several  of  the  earlier  years.  When  I  was 
sent  thither,  I  considered  that  I  was  sent  to 
the  people  of  that  place  and  neighborhood.  I 
thought  it  my  duty,  therefore,  to  adopt  a  sys- 
tem and  a  style  of  preaching  which  should 
have  a  tendency  to  meet  their  case.  All  which 
they  had  heard  before,  was  dry,  frigid,  and  life- 
less. A  high,  haughty,  stalking  spirit  charac- 
terized the  place.  I  was  thrown  among  men 
of  the  world,  men  of  business,  men  of  reading, 
and  men  of  thought.  I  began,  therefore,  with 
principles.  I  preached  on  the  divine  authority 
of  the  sacred  Scriptures.  I  dissected  Saurin's 
Sermons.  I  took  the  sinews  and  substance 
of  some  of  our  most  masterly  writers.  I 
preached  on  such  texts  as — If  ye  believe  not 
Moses  and  the  Prophets,  neither  will  ye  believe 
though  one  arose  from  the  dead.  I  set  myself 
to  explain  terms  and  phrases.  My  chief  object 
was  under-ground  work.  But,  what  was  the 
consequence  of  this  ?  An  outcry  was  raised 
against  me  throughout  the  religious  world.  It 
was  said,  that,  at  other  places,  I  continued  to 
preach  the  truth  ;  but  that,  at  St.  John's,  I  was 
sacrificing  it  to  my  hearers.  Even  my  breth- 
ren, instead  of  entering  into  my  reasons  and 
plan,  lay  on  their  oars.  My  protectress  turned 
her  back  on  me.  I  hesitated,  at  first,  to  enter 
on  so  great  a  risk  ;  but,  with  grandeur  of  spi- 
rit, she  told  me  she  would  put  her  fortune  on 
the  issue  :  if  any  benefit  resulted  from  it,  it 
should  be  mine,  and  she  would  bear  me  harm- 
less of  all  loss.  She  heard  me  a  few  times, 
and  then  wholly  withdrew  herself,  and  even 
took  away  her  servants.    Some  of  them  would 


now  and  then  steal  in ;  but  as  they  reported 
that  they  got  'no  food,'  the  report  did  but 
strengthen  the  prejudices  of  their  mistress. 
She  could  not  enter  into  my  motives.  I  was 
obliged  to  regard  her  conduct  as  Huss  did  that 
of  the  man  who  was  heap'ing  the  faggots  round 
him,  O  sancta  simpUcitas  '.  She  could  not  cal- 
culate consequences,  and  was  unmoved  even 
when  I  placed  my  conduct  in  its  strongest 
light — '  Can  you  attribute  any  but  the  purest 
motives  to  me  !  Ought  not  the  very  circum- 
stances to  which  I  voluntarily  subject  myself 
by  adhering  to  the  plan  you  condemn,  to  gain 
me  some  credit  for  my  intentions ']  Had  I 
preached  here,  in  the  manner  I  preached  else- 
where, you  know  that  the  place  would  have 
been  crowded  by  the  religious  world.  I  should 
then  have  obtained  from  it  an  income  of  200/. 
or  300/.  a  year,  whereas  I  now  sit  down  with 
little  or  no  advantage  from  it,  though  I  have  a 
family  rising  up  about  me.  God  sent  me  hither 
to  preach  to  this  people,  and  to  raise  a  congre- 
gation in  this  place  ;  and  I  am  proceeding  in 
that  system  and  way,  which  seems  to  me  best 
adapted  under  God  to  meet  the  states  of  this 
people  ;  and  while  I  am  doing  this,  I  bring  on 
myself  temporal  injury.  I  can  have  no  possi- 
ble motive  to  sacrifice  the  truth  to  a  few  blind 
Pharisees  who  will  never,  while  I  live,  become 
my  friends.' 

"  I  labored  under  this  desertion  of  my  friends 
for  a  long  time  :  it  Avas  about  seven  years  be- 
fore affairs  began  to  wear  such  an  aspect,  that 
my  protectress  and  others  allowed  that  mat- 
ters had  certainly  turned  out  as  they  could  not 
have  foreseen.  Several  witnesses  rose  up  of 
undoubted  and  authentic  character,  to  testify 
the  power  of  the  grace  of  God.  One  circum- 
stance will  place  the  prejudice  which  existed 
against  me  in  a  strong  light.  A  converted 
Jewess,  who  had  been  driven  from  her  father's 
house  on  account  of  her  sentiments,  and  was 
a  woman  of  great  simplicity  and  devotion,  re- 
fused to  accompany  a  friend  to  St.  John's,  be- 
cause, as  she  said,  she  could  not  worship  there 
spiritually,  and  rather  chose  to  spend  the  after- 
noon among  her  friend's  books ;  in  which  em- 
ployment, I  doubt  not,  she  worshipped  God  in 
the  spirit,  and  was  accepted  of  him.  For  my 
own  satisfaction,  I  wrote  down  at  large  the 
reasons  on  which  I  had  formed  my  conduct, 
for  I  was  almost  driven  into  my  own  breast  for 
support  and  justification.  One  friend,  indeed, 
stood  by  me.  He  saw  my  plan  and  entered 
fully  into  it ;  and  said  such  strong  things  on  the 
subject  as  greatly  confirmed  my  own  mind. 
'  The  Church  of  Christ,'  said  he,  '  must  some- 
times be  sacrificed  for  Christ.'  A  certain  brother 
preached  a  charity  sermon ;  and  in  such  a  style, 
that  he  seemed  to  say  to  me,  'Were  I  here,  you 
would  see  how  I  would  do  the  thing.'  What 
good  he  did,  I  know  not ;  but  some  of  the  evil 
I  know,  as  several  persons  forsook  the  chapel, 
and  assigned  his  sermon  as  the  reason ;  and 
others  expressed  themselves  alarmed  at  the 
idea  of  Methodism  having  crept  into  the  place. 
It  was  ill-judged  and  unkind.  He  should  have 
entered  into  my  design,  or  have  been  silent." 

About  the  middle  of  Julv,  1800,  Mr.  Cecil 


CHARACTER    OF    MR.  CECIL. 


19 


entered  on  the  Livings  of  Bisley  and  Cobham 
in  Surry.  A  few  weeks  after  this  I  visited 
him  with  our  dear  and  mutual  friend  Dr. 
Fearon. 

Here  I  saw  him  in  a  quite  different  situation 
from  any  in  wiiich  I  had  seen  him  before,  and 
was  not  a  httle  curious  to  remark  the  manner 
in  wliich  he  would  treat  a  set  of  plain  and 
homely  villagers.  Though  he  was  repeatedly 
in  great  anguish  during  the  day  which  we 
passed  with  him,  yet  his  mind  in  the  intervals 
was  so  vigorous  and  luminous  that  1  have 
scarcely  ever  gathered  so  much  from  him  in 
an  equal  time. 

On  this  occasion,  among  other  things  which 
are  recorded  in  his  "  Remains,"  he  stated  to  j 
us  his  views  and  feelings  respecting  his  new 
charge.     "  Bisley  is  a  rectory.      It  is  com- 1 
pletely  out   of  the   world.     The  farmers   in  I 
these  parts  are  mostly  occupiers  of  their  own  I 
land.     They  crowded  round  me  when  I  first  | 
came,  and  were  eager  to  make  bargains  with  ; 
me  for  the  tithe.     I  told  them  I  was  ignorant 
of  such  matters,  but  that  I  would  propose  a  | 
measure  which  none  of  them  could  object  to. 
The  farmers  of  Bisley  should  nominate  three  ^ 
farmers    of   Cobham    parish,    and   whatever  i 
those  three  Cobham  farmers  should  appoint  I 
me  to  receive,  that  they  should  pay.     This 
was  puttmg  myself  into  their  power  indeed,  | 
but  the  one  grand  point  with  me  was  to  con-  | 
ciliate  their  minds,  and  pave  the  way  for  the  j 
gospel  in  these  parishes.     And  so  far  it  an- 
swered my  purpose.     I  had  desired  the  three  • 
farmers  to  throw  the  weight,  in  dubious  cases,  ! 
into  the  farmer's  scale.     After  we  had  settled  | 
the  business,  one  of  the  three,  to  convince  the  ; 
Bisley  farmers  that  they  had  acted  in  the  very  ', 
spirit  of  my  directions,  proposed  to  find  a  per- 
son who  would  immediately  give  them  50/.  a 
year  for  their  bargain  with  me.     This  has 
given  them  an  idea  that  wc  act  upon  high  and 
holy  motives."  ; 

What  a  noble  trait  is  this  of  his  upright  and  ^ 
disinterested  mind !  One  might  almost  with  ; 
confidence  predict  that  such  an  introduction 
into  his  parishes  was  a  presage  of  great  use-  ; 
fulness.  A  minister  has  no  right  to  wanton 
away  the  support  of  his  family ;  but,  having 
secured  that,  whatever  sacrifices  he  may  make 
with  such  holy  motives  as  these,  will  be  abun- 
dantly repaid ;  probably  in  the  success  of  his 
ministry,  certainly  in  liis  Master's  approbation 
and  the  peace  of  his  own  bosom.  Those 
sacrifices  of  what  may  be  strictly  his  due, 
which  a  narrow  and  worldly  man  may  refuse 
to  make,  though  he  entail  discord  and  feuds 
on  his  parish,  will  be  trifles  to  the  mind  of  a 
true  Christian  minister. 

"  1  hardly  think  it  likely  that  a  man  could 
have  been  received  in  a  more  friendly  manner 
than  I  have  been.  About  500  people  attended 
at  Cobham,  and  300  at  Bisley.  I  find  I  can 
do  any  thing  with  them  while  I  am  serious. 
A  Baptist  preacher  had  been  somewhere  in  the 
neighborhood  before  I  came.  He  seems  to 
have  been  wild  and  eccentric,  and  to  have 
planted  a  prejudice  in  consequence  of  this  in 
the  people's  minds,  who  appear  to  have  had 


no  other  notion  of  Methodism  than  that  it  was 
eccentricity. 

"  While  I  am  grave  and  serious,  they  will 
allow  me  to  say  or  do  any  thing.  For  in- 
stance ;  a  few  Sundays  since  it  rained  so  pro- 
digiously hard  when  I  had  finished  my  sermon 
at  Bisley,  that  I  saw  it  was  impracticable  for 
any  body  to  leave  the  church.  I  then  told  the 
people,  that  as  it  was  likely  to  continue  for 
some  time,  we  had  better  employ  ourselves 
as  well  as  we  could,  and  so  I  would  take  up 
the  subject  again.  I  did  so;  and  they  listened 
to  me  readily  for  another  half  hour,  though  I 
had  preaclied  to  them  three  quarters  of  an 
liour  before  I  had  concluded.  All  this  they 
bear,  and  think  it  nothing  strange ;  but  one 
wild  brother  with  one  eccentric  sermon  would 
do  me  more  mischief  than  I  should  be  able  in 
many  months  to  cure." 

A  very  strong  instance  of  personal  attach- 
ment to  liim  occurred  soon  after  he  took  Cob- 
ham. A  stranger  was  observed  to  attend 
church  every  Sunday,  and  to  leave  the  village 
immediately  after  service  was  over.  Every 
new  face  there  was  a  phenomenon,  and  of 
course  the  appearance  of  this  man  led  to  in- 
quiry. He  was  found  to  be  one  of  liis  hearers 
at  St.  John's,  a  poor  working-man,  whom  the 
advantages  received  under  his  ministry  had  so 
knit  to  his  pastor,  that  he  found  himself  repaid 
for  a  weekly  journey  of  fifty  miles.  Mr.  C. 
remonstrated  with  him  on  the  inexpediency 
and  impropriety  of  thus  spending  his  Sabbath, 
when  the  pure  word  of  God  might  be  heard 
so  much  nearer  home. 

But  we  must  approach  the  closing  scene  of 
;  this  great  man's  life  and  labors. 

■  No  touches  need  to  be  added  to  the  affecting 
picture  which  Mrs.  Cecil  has  drawn  of  his 
gradual  descent  to  the  grave.  I  will  only  sub- 
join here  some  remarks  on  his  views  and 
FKELiNGs  with  respcct  to  that  Gospel  of  which 

;  he  had  been  so  long  an  eminent  and  successful 
'  minister. 

!  His  VIEWS  of  Christianity  were  modified,  as 
has  been  seen,  by  his  constitution  and  the  cir- 

■  cumstances  of  his  life.  His  dispensation  was 
to  meet  a  particular  class  of  hearers.  He  was 
fitted  beyond  most  men  to  assert  the  reality, 

;  dignity,  and  glory  of  religion — as  contrasted 
with  the  vanity,'meanness,  and  glare  of  the 
!  world.  This  subject  he  treated  like  a  master. 
i  IMen  of  the  world  felt  that  they  were  in  the 
i  presence  of  their  superior — of  one  who  un- 
I  masked  their  real  misery  to  themselves,  and 
I  pursued  them  through  all'the  false  refuges  of 
j  vain  and  carnal  minds. 

I  While  this  was  the  principal  character  of 
i  Mr.  Cecil's  ministrj'  for  years,  at  that  place 
*  for  which  he  seeins  to  have  been  specially 
I  prepared ;  yet  he  was  elsewhere,  with  equal 
!  wisdom,  leading  experienced  Christians  for- 
ward  in  their  way  to  heaven  ;  and,  latterly,  the 
habit  of  his  own  mind,  and  the  whole  system 
I  of  his  ministry,  were  manifestly  ripening  in 
!  those  views  which  are  peculiar  to  the  Gospel. 
'  No  man  had  a  more  just  view  of  his  own 
j  ministry  than  he  had ;  nor  could  any  one  more 
I  highly  value  the  excellence  which  he  saw  in 


20 


CHARACTER    OF    MR.  CECIL 


others,  though  it  was  of  a  different  class  from 
his  own.     "  I  have  been  lately  selecting,"  he 
said  to  me,  "  some  of  C — 's  letters  for  publica- 
tion.    With  the  utmost  difficulty  I  have  given 
some  little  variety.     He  begins  with  Jesus 
Christ,  carries  him  through,  and  closes  with 
him.     If  a  broken  leg  or  arm  turns  him  aside, 
he  seems  impatient  to  dismiss  it  as  an  intrusive 
subject,  and  to  get  back  again  to  his  topic.     I 
feel  as  I  read  his  letters — '  Why,  you  said  this 
in  the  last  sentence !     What,  over  and  over 
again  !     What,  nothing  else  !     No  variety  of 
view  !     No  illustration  !'    And  yet  I  confess, 
that,  when  I  have  walked  out  and  my  mind  has 
been  a  good  deal  exercised  on  his  letters,  I 
have  caught  a  sympathy — '  It  is  one  thing, 
without  variety  or  relief;  but  this  one  thing  is 
a  TALISMAN  !' — I  have  raised  my  head — I  have 
trod  firmly — my  heart  has  expanded — I  have 
felt  wings  !    Men  must  not  be  viewed  indiscri- 
minately. To  a  certain  degree  I  produce  effect 
in  my  way,  and  with  my  views.    The  utter  ruin 
and  bankruptcy  of  man  is  so  wrought  into  my 
experience,  that  I  handle  this  subject  naturally. 
Other  men  may  use  God's  more  direct  means 
as  naturally  as  I  can  use  his  more  indirect  and 
collateral  ones.     Every  man,  however,  must 
rather  follow  than  lead  his  experience ;  though, 
to  a  certain  degree,  if  he  finds  his  habits  divert- 
ing him  from  Jesus  Christ  as  the  grand,  promi- 
nent, only  feature,  he  nmst  force  himself  to 
choose  such  topics  as  shall  lead  his  mind  to 
him.     I  am  obliged  to  subject  myself  to  this 
discipline.     I  frequently  choose  subjects  and 
enter  into  my  plan,  before  I  discover  that  the 
Saviour  occupies   a  part   too  subordinate;  I 
throw  them  away,  and  take  up  others  which 
point  more  directly  and  naturally  to  him." 

In  his  last  illness  he  spoke  with  great  feel- 
ing on  the  same  subject :  "  That  Christianity 
may  be  very  sincere,  which  is  not  sublime. 
Let  a  man  read  Maclaurin's  sermon  on  the 
Cross  of  Christ,  and  enter  into  the  subject  with 
taste  and  relisli,  what  beggary  is  tlie  world  to 
him  !  The  subject  is  so  higli  and  so  glorious, 
that  a  man  must  go  out  of  himself,  as  it  were, 
to  apprehend  it.  The  apostle  had  such  a  view 
when  he  said,  /  count  all  things  hut  loss  for  the 
excellency  of  the  knoivledge  of  Christ  Jesus  my 
Lord.  I  remember  the  time,  even  after  I  be- 
came really  serious  in  religion,  when  I  could 
not  understand  what  St.  Paul  meant— not  by 
setting  forth  the  glory  of  Christ,  but  by  talking 
of  It  in  such  hyperbolical  terms,  and  always 
dwelling  on  the  subject ;  whatever  topic  he 
began  on,  I  saw  that  he  could  not  but  glide  into 
the  same  subject.  But  I  now  understand  why 
he  did  so,  and  wonder  no  more ;  for  there  is 
no  other  subject,  comparatively,  worthy  our 
thoughts,  and  therefore  it  is  that  advanced 
Christians  dwell  on  little  else.  I  am  fuUv  per- 
suaded, that  the  whole  world  becomes"  vain 
and  empty  to  a  man,  in  proportion  as  he  enters 
into  hvmg  views  of  Jesus  Christ." 

His  FEELINGS  ou  religion,  as  they  respected 
nis  submission  to  the  divine  will,  were  admirably 
expressed  by  himself:-"  We  are  servants,  and 
we  must  not  choose  our  station.  I  am  now 
called  to  go  down  very  low,  but  I  must  not 


resist.  God  is  saying  to  me,  '  You  have  not 
been  doing  my  work  in  my  way ;  you  have 
been  too  hasty.  Now  sit  down  and  be  content 
to  be  a  quiet  idler ;  and  wait  till  I  give  you 
leave  again  to  go  on  in  your  labors.' " 

In  respect  to  his  personal  comfort,  he  had 
said — "  I  have  attained  satisfaction  as  to  my 
state,  by  a  consciousness  of  change  in  my  own 
breast,  mixed  with  a  consciousness  of  integrity. 

Two  evidences  are  satisfactory  to  me  : 

1.  A  consciousness  of  approving  God's  plan 
of  government  in  the  Gospel. 

2.  A  consciousness,  that,  in  trouble,  I  run  to 
God  as  a  child." 

These  evidences  Mr.  C.  illustrated  even  in 
his  diseased  moments  before  his  death.  On 
that  afflicting  dispensation  I  shall  make  no  re- 
marks of  my  own,  as  I  think  nothing  can  be 
added  to  what  my  friend,  his  successor,  has  so 
well  said  in  the  second  of  his  funeral  sermons, 
and  which  is  here  subjoined. 

"  During  the  whole  period  of  his  last  illness, 
a  space  of  nearly  three  years,  the  state  of  his 
mind  fluctuated  with  his  malady.  Every  one 
who  has  had  opportunities  of  observing  the 
operation  of  palsy,  knows,  that  without  de- 
stroying, or,  properly  speaking,  perverting  the 
reasoning  powers,  it  agitates  and  enervates 
them.  Every  object  is  presented  through  a 
discolored  medium.  False  premises  are  as- 
sumed, and  the  mind  is  sometimes  more  than 
usually  expert  in  drawing  inferences  accord- 
ingly. Ill  a  word,  the  whole  system  is  de- 
ranged and  shattered.  An  excessive  care,  and 
irritation,  and  despondency,  are  produced,  un- 
der the  impression  of  which  the  sufferer  acts 
every  moment,  Avithout  being  at  all  aware  of 
the  cause.  His  morbid  anxiety  is,  besides, 
fixed  on  some  inconsiderable  or  ideal  matter, 
which  he  magnifies  and  distorts  ;  while  he  re- 
mains incapable  of  attending  to  concerns  of 
superior  moment,  and  any  attempts  to  rectify 
his  misapprehensions  quicken  the  irritation, 
and  increase  the  effects  of  the  disorder. 

"  Under  this  peculiar  visitation  it  pleased 
God  that  our  late  venerable  father  should  labor. 
The  energy,  and  decision,  and  grandeur  of  his 
natural  powers,  therefore,  gradually  gave  way, 
and  a  morbid  feebleness  succeeded.  Yet  even 
in  this  afflicting  state,  with  his  body  on  one 
side  almost  lifeless,  his  organs  of  speech  im- 
paired, and  his  judgment  weakened,  the  spi- 
ritual dispositions  of  his  heart  displayed  them- 
selves in  a  remarkable  manner.  He  appeared 
great  in  the  ruins  of  nature  ;  and  his  eminently 
religious  character  manifested  itself,  to  the 
honor  of  divine  grace,  in  a  manner  which  sur- 
prised all  who  were  acquainted  with  the  ordi- 
nary effects  of  paralytic  complaints.  The  act- 
ings ol  hope  Avere,  of  course,  impeded ;  but 
the  habit  of  grace,  which  had  been  forming  in 
his  mind  for  thirty  or  forty  years,  shone  through 
the  cloud.  At  such  a  period  there  Avas  no  room 
for  fresh  acquisitions.  The  real  character  of 
the  man  could  only  appear,  Avhen  disease  al- 
lowed it  to  appear  at  all,  according  to  the  grand 
leading  habits  of  his  life.  If  his  habits  had  been 
ambitious,  or  sensual,  or  covetous,  or  worldly, 
these  tendencies,  if  any,  would  have  displayed 


CHARACTER    OF    MR.    CECIL 


themselves;  but  as  his  soul  had  been  long 
established  in  grace,  and  spiritual  religion  had 
been  incorporated  with  all  his  trains  of  senti- 
ment and  affection,  and  had  become  like  a 
second  nature,  the  holy  dispositions  of  his 
heart  acted  with  remarkable  constancy  under 
all  the  variations  of  his  illness  ;  so  that  one  of 
his  oldest  friends  observed  to  me,  that  if  he 
had  to  choose  the  portion  of  his  life,  since  he 
first  knew  him,  in  which  the  evidences  of  a 
state  of  salvation  were  most  decisive,  he 
should,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  select 
the  period  of  his  last  distressing  malady. 

"  Throughout  his  illness,  his  whole  mind,  in- 
stead of  being  fixed  on  some  mean  and  insig- 
nificant concern,  was  riveted  on  spiritual  ob- 
jects. Every  other  topic  was  so  uninteresting 
to  him,  and  even  burdensome,  that  he  could 
with  reluctance  allow  it  to  be  introduced.  The 
value  of  his  soul,  the  emptiness  of  the  world, 
the  nearness  and  solemnity  of  death,  were 
ever  on  his  lips.  He  spent  his  whole  time  in 
reading  the  Scripture,  and  one  or  two  old 
divines,  particularly  Arclibishop  Leighton. 
All  he  said  and  did  was  as  a  man  on  the  brink 
of  an  eternal  state. 

"  His  humility,  also,  evidently  ripened  as  he 
approached  his  end.  He  was  AviUing  to  receive 
advice  from  every  quarter.  He  listened  with 
anxiety  to  any  liint  that  was  offered  him.  His 
view  of  his  own  misery  and  helplessness  as  a 
sinner,  and  of  the  necessity  of  being  entirely 
indebted  to  divine  grace,  and  being  saved  as 
the  greatest  monument  of  its  efficacy,  was 
continually  on  the  increase. 

"  His  simplicity  and  fervor  in  speaking  of 
the  Saviour  were  also  very  remarkable.  As  he 
drew  nearer  to  death,  his  one  topic  was — Jesus 
Christ.  All  his  anxiety  and  care  were  centred 
in  this  grand  point.  His  apprehensions  of  the 
work  and  glory  of  Christ,  of  the  extent  and 
suitableness  of  his  salvation,  and  of  the  un- 
speakable importance  of  being  spiritually  united 
to  him,  were  more  distinct  and  simple,  if  possi- 
ble, than  at  any  period  of  his  life.  He  spake 
of  him  to  his  family,  with  the  feeling,  and  in- 
terest, and  seriousness  of  the  aged  and  dying 
believer. 

"  His  faith,  also,  never  failed.  I  have  heard 
him  with  faltering  and  feeble  lips  speak  of  the 
great  foimdations  of  Christianity  with  the  full- 
est confidence.  He  said  he  never  saw  so 
clearly  the  truth  of  the  doctrines  which  he 
had  been  preaching,  as  since  his  illness.  His 
view  of  the  certainty  and  excellency  of  God's 
promises  in  Christ  was  unshaken. 

"  The  interest,  likewise,  which  he  took  in 
the  success  of  the  Gospel,  was  prominent, 
when  his  disease  at  all  remitted.  His  own 
people  lay  near  his  heart ;  and,  when  a  provi- 
dence had  occurred  which  he  hoped  would 
promote  their  benefit,  he  expressed  himself 
with  old  Simeon,  '  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy 
servant  depart  in  peace.' 

"  The  principal  effect  of  his  distemper  was  in 
throwing  a  cloud  over  his  comfort ;  yet,  in  pro- 
ducing this,  the  spiritual  tendency  of  his  mind 
appeared.  His  diseased  depression  operated, 
indeed,  but  it  was  in  leading  him  to  set  a  high 
104  25 


21 


standard  of  holiness,  to  bring  together  elevated 
marks  of  regeneration,  and  to  require  decisive 
evidences  of  a  spirit  of  faith  and  adoption. 
Ihe  acuteness  of  his  judgment  then  argued  so 
strongly  from  these  false  premises,  that  he 
necessarily  excluded  himself  almost  entirely 
from  the  consolation  of  hope.  If  I  may  be 
allowed  a  theological  term— the  objective  acts 
of  faith,  those  that  related  to  the  grand  objects 
proposed  in  the  Scriptures  on  the  testimony  of 
God,  such  as  the  work  of  redemption,  the  per- 
son of  Christ,  and  the  virtue  of  his  blood,  re- 
mained the  same ;  nay,  were  ripened  and 
strengthened  as  his  dissolution  approached; 
but  the  subjective  acts  of  faith,  those  which 
respected  his  own  interest  in  these  blessings, 
and  whicli  gave  life  to  the  exercises  of  hope, 
rose  and  sunk  with  his  disease.  He  was  pre- 
cisely like  a  man  oppressed  by  a  heavy  weight ; 
as  the  load  was  lightened,  he  began  to  move 
and  exert  himself  in  his  natural  manner;  when 
the  burden  was  increased,  he  sunk  down  again 
under  the  oppression. 

"  About  a  year  before  his  death,  when  his 
powers  of  mind  had  for  a  long  time  been  de- 
bilitated, but  still  retained  some  remnants  of 
their  former  vigor,  his  religious  feelings  were 
at  times  truly  desirable.  His  intellectual  pow- 
ers were,  indeed,  too  far  weakened  for  joy  ; 
but  there  was  a  resignation,  a  tranquillity^  a 
ripeness  of  grace,  a  calm  and  holy  repose  on 
the  bosom  of  the  Saviour,  that  quite  alarmed, 
if  I  may  so  speak,  his  anxious  family,  under 
the  impression  that  there  appeared  nothing 
left  for  grace  to  do,  and  that  he  would  soon  be 
removed  from  them,  as  a  shock  of  corn  cometh 
in  its  season.  Even  when  his  disease  had  made 
still  further  progress,  as  often  as  the  slightest 
alleviation  was  afforded  him,  his  judgment  be- 
came more  distinct,  his  morbid  depression 
lessened,  and  he  was  moderately  composed. 
It  was  only  a  few  weeks  before  his  dissolution 
that  such  an  interval  was  vouchsafed  to  him. 
He  then  spake  with  great  feeling  from  the 
Scriptures,  in  family  worship,  for  about  half 
an  hour ;  and  dwelt  on  the  love,  and  grace, 
and  power  of  Christ,  with  particular  composure 
of  mind.  I  had  the  happiness  of  visiting  him 
at  this  season.  He  was  so  much  relieved  from 
his  disease,  as  to  enter  with  me  on  general 
topics  relating  to  religion,  and  to  give  me  some 
excellent  directions  as  to  my  conduct  as  a 
minister.  In  reply  to  various  questions  which 
I  put  to  him,  he  spake  to  me  to  the  following 
purport :  '  I  know  myself  to  be  a  wretched, 
worthless  sinner,'  (the  seriousness  and  feeling 
with  which  he  spake  I  shall  never  forget.) 
'  having  nothing  in  myself  but  poverty  and  sin. 
I  know  Jesus  Christ  to  be  a  glorious  and 
almighty  Saviour.  I  see  the  full  efficacy  of 
nis  atonement  and  grace ;  and  I  cast  myself 
entirely  on  him,  and  wait  at  his  footstool.  I 
am  aware  that  my  diseased  and  broken  mind 
makes  me  incapable  of  receiving  consolation; 
but  I  submit  myself  wholly  to  the  merciful 
and  wise  dispensations  of  God.' 

"  One  or  two  other  interesting  testimonies 
of  the  spiritual  and  devoted  state  of  his  heart 
may  be  here  mentioned.    A  short  time  before 


22 


CHARACTER    OF   MR.  CECIL, 


his  decease  he  requested  one  of  his  family  to 
write  down  for  him  in  a  book  the  following 
sentence  :  '  None  but  Christ,  none  but  Christ, 
said  Lambert  dying  at  a  stake ;  the  same,  in 
dying  circumstances,  with  his  whole  heart, 
saith  Richard  Cecil.'  The  name  was  signed 
by  himself,  with  his  left  hand,  in  a  manner 
hardly  legible  through  infirmity." 

Such  was  Mr.  Cecil.  I  sincerely  regret  that 
some  masterly  observer  did  not  both  enjoy  and 
improve  opportunities  of  delineating  a  more 
perfect  picture  of  his  great  mind.  I  have, 
however,  faithfully  detailed  the  impressions 
which  his  character  made  on  me  during  a  long 
course  of  affectionate  admiration  of  him ;  nor 
have  I  shrunk  from  intermingling  such  re- 
marks, as  every  faithful  observer  must  find 
occasion  to  make  while  he  is  watching  the 
unfoldings  of  the  best  and  greatest  of  men. 

Christian  parents,  and  particularly  Chris- 
tian MOTHERS,  may  gather  from  the  history 
and  character  of  our  departed  friend  every 
possible  encouragement  to  the  unwearied  care 
of  their  children.  While  St.  Austin,  Bishop 
Hall,  Richard  Hooker,  John  Newton,  Richard 
Cecil,  and  many  other  great  and  eminent  ser- 
vants of  Christ,  have  left  on  record  their  grate- 


ful acknowledgments  to  their  pious  mothers, 
as  the  instruments,  under  the  grace  and  bless- 
ing of  God,  of  winning  them  to  himself,  let  no 
woman  of  faith  and  prayer  despair  respecting 
even  her  most  untoward  child. 

Mr.  Cecil's  mere  admirers  should  feel  what 
a  weight  of  responsibility  his  ministry  and  his 
character  have  laid  them  under.  They  gave 
him  the  ear,  but  he  labored  for  the  heart. 
They  were  pleased  with  the  man,  but  he  prayed 
that  they  might  become  displeased  with  them- 
selves. They  would  aid  him  in  his  schemes, 
but  he  was  anxious  that  they  should  serve  his 
Master.  How  soon  must  they  meet  him  at 
that  judgment-seat  before  which  all  must  ap- 
pear, to  receive  according  to  what  they  have 
done  in  the  body,  whether  good  or  evil ! 

H?s  SINCERE  friends  are  called  to  imitate  his 
example — to  follow  him  as  he  followed  Christ — 
to  live  above  this  vain  world— to  sacrifice  every 
thing  to  the  honor  of  Christ  and  the  interests 
of  eternity— to  bear  up  under  pain  and  weari- 
ness and  anxiety,  leaning  on  Almighty  strength ; 
till  they  join  him  in  that  world  where  weakness 
shall  be  felt  no  more  ! 

JOSIAH    PRATT. 


REMAINS 


REV.     RICHARD     CECIL,    M.A. 


REMARKS    MADE    BY    MR.    CECIL,  CHIEFLY    IN    CONVERSATION    WITH    THE    EDITOR,    OR    IN 
DISCUSSIONS    WHEN    HE    WAS    PRESENT. 

"  Mulia  ah  eo  prudentcr  dispiitata,  mxdta  ctiam  hrcvilcr  et  commode  dicta  memonce 
mandabam,  fierique  studcbam  ejus  prudentia  doctior. — Cic.  de  Amicit.  I. 


On  the  Christian  Life  and  Conflict. 
The  direct  cause  of  a  Christian's  spiritual 
life,  is  union  with  Christ.  All  attention  to  the 
mere  circumstantials  of  religion  has  a  tend- 
ency to  draw  the  soul  away  from  this  union. 
Few  men,  except  ministers,  are  called,  by  the 
nature  of  their  station,  to  enter  much  into 
these  circumstantials  :— such,  for  instance,  as 
the  evidences  of  the  truth  of  religion.  Minis- 
ters feel  this  deadening  effect  of  any  consi- 
derable or  continued  attention  to  externals: 
much  more  must  private  Christians.  The  head 
may  be  strengthened,  till  the  heart  is  starved. 
Some  private  Christians,  however,  may  be 
called  on,  by  the  nature  of  those  circles  m 
which  thev  move,  to  be  qualified  to  meet  and 
refute  the  objections  which  may  be  urged 
ao-ainst  religion.  Such  men,  as  well  as  minis- 
ters, while  they  are  furnishing  themselves  for 
this  purpose,  must  acquiesce  in  the  work  which 
God  appoints  for  them,  with  prayer  and  watch- 
fulness. If  they  cannot  always  live  and  abide 
close  to  the  ark,  and  the  pot  of  manna,  and  the 
cherubim,  and  the  mercy-seat :  yet  they  are 
drawing  the  water  and  gathering  the  wood 
necessary  for  the  service  of  the  camp.  But 
let  their  hearts  still  turn  toward  the  place 
where  the  Glory  resideth. 

The  Christian's  fellowship  with  God  is  rather 
a  habit  than  a  rapture.  He  is  a  pilgrim,  who 
has  the  habit  of  looking  forward  to  the  light 
before  him :  he  has  the  habit  of  not  looking 
back  ■  he  has  the  habit  of  walking  steadily  in 
the  way,  whatever  be  the  weather,  and  what- 
ever the  road.  These  are  his  habits  :  and  the 
Lord  of  the  Way  is  his  Guide,  Protector,  Friend, 
and  Felicity. 

As  the  Christian's  exigencies  arise,  he  has 
a  spiritual  habit  of  turning  to  God,  and  saying, 
with  the  Church,  "  Tell  me,  O  thou  lohom  my 
soul  loveth,  where  thoufeedest,  where  thou  makest 
thy  flocks  to  rest  at  noon.''  1  have  tried  to  find 
rest  elsewhere.  I  have  fled  to  shelters,  which 
held  out  great  promise  of  repose  ;  but  1  have 


now  long  since  learned  to  turn  unto  thee : — 
"  Tell  me,  O  thou  ivhom  my  soul  loveth,  where 
thou  feedest,  where  thou  makest  thy  flocks  to  rest 
at  noon.'" 

The  Christian  will  look  back,  throughout 
eternity,  with  interest  and  delight,  on  the  steps 
and  means  of  his  conversion.  "  My  father 
told  me  this  !  My  mother  told  that!  Such  an 
event  was  sanctified  to  me !  In  such  a  place, 
God  visited  my  soul!"  These  recollections 
will  never  grow  dull  and  wearisome. 

A  VOLUME  might  be  written  on  the  various 
methods  which  God  has  taken,  in  providence, 
to  lead  men  first  to  think  of  him. 

The  history  of  a  man's  own  liVe  is,  to  him- 
self, the  most  interesting  history  in  the  world, 
next  to  that  of  the  Scriptures.  Every  man  is 
an  original  and  solitary  character.  None  can 
either  understand  or  feel  the  book  of  his  own 
life  like  himself  The  lives  of  other  men  are 
to  him  dry  and  vapid,  when  set  beside  his  own. 
He  enters  very  little  into  the  spirit  of  the  Old 
Testament,  who  does  not  see  God  calling  on 
him  to  turn  over  the  pages  of  this  history  when 
he  says  to  the  Jew,  Thou  shall  remember  all  the 
wail  which  the  Lord  thy  God  led  thee  these  forty 
years.  He  sees  God  teaching  the  Jew  to  look 
at  the  records  of  his  deliverance  from  the  Red 
Sea,  of  the  manna  showered  down  on  him  from 
heaven,  and  of  the  Amalekites  put  to  flight  be- 
fore him.  There  are  such  grand  events  in  the 
life  and  experience  of  every  Christian,  it  may 
be  well  for  him  to  review  them  often.  I  have, 
in  some  cases,  vowed  before  God  to  appropri- 
ate yearly  remembrances  of  some  of  the  signal 
turns  of  my  life.  Having  made  the  vow,  I  iiold 
it  as  obligatory  :  but  I  would  advise  others  to 
greater  circumspection ;  as  they  may  bring  a 
galling  yoke  on  themselves,  which  God  de- 
signed not  to  put  on  them. 

True  grace  is  a  growing  principle      The 
^  a  child  may 


Christian  grows  in  discernment 

play  with  a  serpent ;  but  the  man  gets  as  lar 


24 


REMAINS    OF    MR.  CECIL 


versation.  But  is  he.  therefore,  not  different 
from  other  men  1  He  is  hke  another  merchant 
in  the  mere  exterior  circumstance,  which  is 
least  in  God's  regard  ; — but,  in  his  taste  ! — his 
views  ! — his  science  ! — his  hopes ! — his  happi- 
ness !  he  is  as  different  from  those  around  him 
as  light  is  from  darkness.  He  ivaits  for  the 
coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  never 
passes,  perhaps,  through  the  thoughts  of  those 
he  talks  with,  but  to  be  neglected  and  despised! 

The  Christian  is  called  to  be  like  Abraham, 
in  conduct;  like  Paul,  in  labors;  and  like  John, 
in  spirit.  Though,  as  a  man  of  faith,  he  goes 
forth  not  knowing  whither,  and  his  principle  is 
hidden  from  the  world,  yet  he  will  oblige  the 
world  to  acknowledge  :  "  His  views,  it  is  true, 
we  do  not  understand.  His  principles  and  ge- 
neral conduct  are  a  mystery  to  us.  But  a  more 
upright,  noble,  generous,  disinterested,  peace- 
able, and  benevolent  man,  we  know  not  where 
to  find."  Tlie  world  may  even  count  him  a 
madman ;  and  false  brethren  may  vilify  his 
character,  and  calumniate  his  motives :  yet 
he  will  bear  down  evil,  by  repaying  good  ;  and 
will  silence  his  enemies,  by  the  abundance  of 
his  labors.  He  may  be  shut  out  from  the 
world — cast  into  prison — banished  into  obscu- 
rity— no  eye  to  observe  him,  no  hand  to  help 
him — but  it  is  enough  for  him,  if  his  Saviour 
will  speak  to  him  and  smile  on  him. 

Christians  are  too  little  aware  what  their 
religion  requires  from  them,  with  regard  to 
their  wishes.  When  we  wish  things  to  be  other- 
wise than  they  are,  we  lose  sight  of  the  great 
practical  parts  of  the  life  of  godliness.  We 
wish,  and  wish — when,  if  we  have  done  all  that 
lies  on  us,  we  shoidd  fall  quietly  into  the  hands 
of  God.  Such  wishing  cuts  the  very  sinews  of 
our  privileges  and  consolations.  You  are  leav- 
ing me  for  a  time  ;  and  you  say  you  wish  you 
could  leave  me  better,  or  leave  me  with  some 
assistance  :  but,  if  it  is  right  for  you  to  go,  it 
is  right  for  me  to  meet  what  lies  on  me,  with- 
out a  wish  that  I  had  less  to  meet,  or  were 
better  able  to  meet  it. 

I  COULD  write  down  twenty  cases,  wherein 
I  wished  God  had  done  othervirise  than  he  did; 
but  whicli  I  now  see,  had  I  had  my  own  will, 
would  have  led  to  extensive  mischief.  The 
life  of  a  Christian  is  a  life  of  paradoxes.  He 
nuist  l;iy  hold  on  God  :  he  must  follow  hard 
after  him  :  he  nuist  determine  not  to  let  him 
go.  And  yet  he  must  learn  to  let  God  alone. 
Quietness  before  God  is  one  of  the  most  diffi- 
cult of  all  Christian  graces — to  sit  where  he 
places  us  ;  to  be  what  he  would  have  us  to  be, 
and  this  as  long  as  he  pleases.  We  are  like  a 
player  at  bowls  ;  if  he  has  given  his  bowl  too 
little  bias,  he  cries,  "  Flee:"  if  he  has  given 
it  too  much,  he  cries,  "  Rub,"  you  see  him 
lifting  his  leg,  and  bending  his  body,  in  con- 
formity to  the  motion  he  would  impart  to  the 
bowl.  Thus  I  have  felt  with  regard  to  my 
dispensations  :  I  would  urge  them  or  restrain 
them :  I  would  assimilate  them  to  the  habit 
the  day,  and  take  up  any  p\iblic  topic  of  con- 1  of  my  mind.     But  1  have  smarted  for  this  un- 


from  it  as  he  can :  a  child  may  taste  poison  ; 
but  the  man  will  not  suffer  a  speck  of  poison 
near  him.  He  grows  in  humility  :  the  blade 
shoots  up  boldly,  and  the  young  ear  keeps  erect 
with  confidence :  but  the  full  corn  in  the  ear 
inchnes  itself  toward  the  earth,  not  because  it 
is  feebler,  but  because  it  is  matured.  He  grows 
in  STRENGTH :  the  new  wine  ferments  and  frets ; 
but  the  old  wine  acquires  a  body  and  a  firmness. 

Tenderness  of  conscience  is  always  to  be 
distinguished  from  scrupulousness.  The  con- 
science cannot  be  kept  too  sensible  and  tender: 
but  scrupulousness  arises  from  bodily  or  mental 
infirmity,  and  discovers  itself  in  a  multitude  of 
ridiculous,  and  superstitious,  and  painful  feel- 
ings. 

The  head  is  dull,  in  discerning  the  value  of 
God's  expedients  ;  and  the  heart  cold,  sluggish, 
and  reluctant,  in  submitting  to  them  :  but  the 
head  is  lively,  in  the  invention  of  its  own  ex- 
pedients ;  and  the  heart  eager  and  sanguine, 
in  pursuit  of  them.  No  wonder,  then,  that  God 
subjects  both  the  head  and  the  heart  to  a  course 
of  conthiual  correction. 

Every  man  will  have  his  own  criterion  in 
forming  his  judgment  of  others.  1  depend  very 
much  on  the  effect  of  affliction.  I  consider 
how  a  man  comes  out  of  the  furnace :  gold 
will  lie  for  a  month  in  the  furnace  without 
losing  a  grain.  And,  while  under  trial,  a  child 
has  a  habit  of  turning  to  his  father  :  he  is  not 
like  a  penitent,  who  has  been  whipped  into 
this  state :  it  is  natural  to  him.  It  is  dark, 
and  the  child  has  novYhere  to  run,  but  to  his 
father. 

Defilement  is  inseparable  from  the  Avorld. 
A  man  can  nowhere  rest  his  foot  on  it  with- 
out sinking.  A  strong  principle  of  assimila- 
tion combines  the  world  and  the  heart  toge- 
ther. There  are,  especially,  certain  occasions, 
when  the  current  hurries  a  man  away,  and  he 
has  lost  the  reUgious  government  of  himself. 
When  the  pilot  finds,  on  making  the  port  of 
Messina,  that  the  ship  will  not  obey  the  helm, 
he  knows  that  she  is  got  within  the  influence 
of  that  attraction,  which  will  bury  her  in  the 
whirlpool.  We  are  to  avoid  the  danger,  rather 
than  to  oppose  it.  This  is  a  great  doctrine  of 
Scripture.  An  active,  force  against  the  world 
is  not  so  much  inculcated,  as  a  retreating,  de- 
clining spirit.  Keep  thyself  unspotted  from  the 
world. 

There  are  seasons  when  a  Christian's  dis- 
tinguishing character  is  hidden  from  man.  A 
Christian  merchant  on  'Change  is  not  called 
to  show  any  difference  in  his  mere  exterior 
carriage  from  another  merchant.  He  gives  a 
reasonable  answer  if  he  is  asked  a  question. 
He  does  not  fanatically  intrude  religion  into 
every  sentence  he  utters.  He  does  not  sup- 
pose his  religion  to  be  inconsistent  with  the 
common  interchange  of  civilities.  He  is  affa- 
ble and  courteous.    He  can  ask  the  news  of 


REMAINS    OF    MR     CECIL. 


25 


Ider  severe  visitations.  It  may  seem  a  harsh, ! 
but  it  is  a  wise  and  gracious  dispensation,  to-  ' 
ward  a  man,  when,  the  instant  he  stretches  I 
out  his  hand  to  order  his  affairs,  God  forces  ! 
him  to  withdraw  it.  Concerning  what  is  mo- 
rally good  or  evil,  we  are  sufficiently  informed 
for  our  direction;  but  concerning  what  is  na- 
tDially  good  or  evil,  we  are  ignorance  itself.  \ 
Justlessness  and  self-will  are  opposed  to  our 
duty  in  these  cases. 

Schooling  the  heart  is  the  grand  mean?  of 
personal  religion.  To  bring  motives  under 
faithful  examination,  is  a  high  state  of  reli- 
gions character:  with  regard  to  the  depravity 
(if  the  heart,  we  live  daily  in  the  disbelief  of 
n 1 1  ;•  own  creed.  We  indulge  thoughts  and  feel- 
iti;_[s.  which  are  founded  upon  the  presumption 
that  all  around  us  are  imperfect  and  corrupted, 
hilt  that  we  are  exempted.  The  self-will  and 
ambition  and  passion  of  public  characters  in 
tlie  religious  world,  all  arise  from  this  sort  of 
practical  infidelity.  And  though  its  eftects  are 
so  manifest  in  these  men,  because  they  are 
icailers  of  parties,  and  are  set  upon  a  pinnacle, 
so  that  all  who  are  without  the  influence  of 
their  vortex  can  see  them;  yet  every  man's 
own  breast  has  an  infallible,  dogmatizing, 
excommunicating,  and  anathematizing  spirit 
working  within. 

Acting  from  the  occasion,  without  recol- 
lection and  inquiry,  is  the  death  of  personal 
rcii'rion.  It  will  not  suffice  merely  to  retire 
to  tlie  study  or  the  closet.  The  mind  is  some- 
tunes,  in  private,  most  ardently  pursuing  its 
particular  object ;  and,  as  it  then  acts  from  the 
occasion,  nothing  is  farther  from  it  tlian  re- 
collectedness.  I  have  for  weeks  together,  in 
pursuit  of  some  scheme,  acted  so  entirely  from 
the  occasion,  that,  when  1  have  at  length  called 
myself  to  account,  I  have  seemed  like  one 
awaked  from  a  dream.  "Am  I  the  man  who 
could  think  and  speak  so  and  so  I  Am  I  the 
man  who  could  feel  such  a  disposition,  or  dis- 
cover such  conduct  V  The  fascination  and 
enchantment  of  the  occasion  is  vanished  ;  and 
I  stand  like  David  in  similar  circumstances 
before  Nathan.  Such  cases  in  experience  are, 
in  truth,  a  moral  intoxication ;  and  the  man  is 
only  then  sober,  when  he  begins  to  school  his 
heart. 

The  servant  of  God  has  not  only  natural 
sensibilities,  by  which  he  feels,  in  common 
with  other  men,  the  sorrows  of  life  ;  but  he 
has  moral  sensibilities,  which  are  peculiar  to 
his  character.  When  David  was  driven  from 
his  kingdom,  he  not  only  felt  depressed  as  an 
exile  and  wanderer;  but  he  would  recollect  his 
own  sin  as  punished  in  the  affliction.  Eli  had 
not  only  to  suffer  the  pangs  of  a  fatlier  in  the 
loss  of  his  sons  ;  but  he  would  recal,  with  bit- 
terness of  spirit,  his  own  mismanagement,  irt 
bringing  up  these  sons.  St.  Paul  had  not  only 
to  endure  the  thorn  in  the  flesh ;  but  he  would 
feel  that  he  carried  about  him  propensities  to 
self-exaltation,  which  rendered  that  thorn  ne- 
cessary and  salutary 


Dangerous  predicaments  are  the  brinks  of 
temptations.  A  man  often  gives  evidence  to 
others  that  he  is  giddy,  tjiough  he  is  not  aware 
of  It,  perhaps,  him^rlf.  Whoever  has  been  in 
danger  himself,  will  guess  very  shrewdly  con- 
cerning the  dangerous  state  of  such  a  man. 

A  haughty  spirit  is  a  symptom  of  extreme 
danger— A  haughti/  spirit  goeth  before  a  fall. 

Presumptuous  carelessness  indicates  danger. 

"  Who  fears  r'  This  is  to  be  feared,  that 
you  feel  no  cause  of  fear.  Such  was  Peter's 
state  ;  Though  all  men  firsakc  thee,  yet  will  not  I. 

Verdurmg  on  the  borders  of  danger  is  much 
akin  to  this.  A  man  goes  on  pretty  well  till 
he  ventures  witliin  the  atmosphere  of  danger, 
but  the  atmosphere  of  danger  infatuates  him. 
The  ship  is  got  within  the  influen-^e  of  the 
vortex,  and  will  not  obey  the  helm.  David 
was  sitting  in  this  atmosphere  on  the  house- 
top, and  was  ensnared  and  fell. 

An  accession  (f  iccnlth  is  a  dangerous  predi- 
cament for  a  man.  At  first  he  is  stunned,  if 
the  accession  be  sudden :  he  is  very  humble 
and  very  grateful.  Then  he  begins  to  speak  a 
little  louder,  people  think  him  more  sensible, 
and  soon  he  thinks  liimself  so. 

A  man  is  in  imminent  danger  when  in  sus- 
pected circumstances  he  is  disposed  to  equivocate, 
as  Abraham  did  with  Pharaoh,  and  Isaac  with 
Abimelech. 

Stupidity  of  conscience  under  chastisement — 
an  advancement  to  power,  when  a  man  begins 
to  relish  such  power — popularity— self-indul- 
gence— a  disposition  to  gad  about,  like  Dinah : 
all  these  are  symptoms  of  spiritual  danger. 

A  CHANGE  OF  CIRCUMSTANCES  lU  OUl'  COllOltiOn 

of  life  is  a  critical  period.  No  man  who  has 
not  passed  through  such  a  change,  can  form 
any  adequate  notion  of  its  effects  upon  the 
mind.  When  money  comes  into  the  pocket 
of  a  poor  man  in  small  sums,  it  goes  out  as  it 
came  in,  and  more  follows  it  in  the  same  way; 
and  with  a  certain  freedom  and  indifference,  it 
is  applied  to  its  proper  uses :  but  when  he  be- 
gins to  receive  round  sums,  that  may  yield 
him  an  interest,  and  when  this  interest  comes 
to  be  added  to  his  principal,  and  the  sweets 
of  augmentation  to  creep  over  him,  it  is  quite 
a  new  world  to  him.  In  a  rise  of  circumstances, 
too,  the  man  becomes,  in  his  own  opinion,  a 
wiser  man,  a  greater  man  ;  and  pride  of  sta- 
tion crosses  him  in  his  way.  Nor  is  the  con- 
trary change  less  dangerous.  Poverty  has  its 
trials.  That  is  a  fine  trait  in  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  that  Christian  stumbled  in  going 
down  the  Hill  into  the  Valley  of  Humiliation. 

A  SOUND  head,  a  simple  neart,  and  a  spirit 
dependant  on  Christ,  will  suffice  to  conduct  us 
in  every  variety  of  circumstances. 

I  CANNOT  look  through  my  past  life  without 
trembling.  A  variation  in  my  circumstances 
has  been  attended  with  dangers  and  difficulties, 
little  of  which  I  saw  at  the  time  compared 
with  what  reflection  has  since  shown  me,  but 
which  in  the  review  of  them  rnake  me  shud 


SG 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


der,  and  ought  to  fill  me  with  gratitude.  He, 
who  views  this  subject  aright,  will  put  up  par- 
ticular prayer  against  sudden  attacks. 

God  will  have  the  Christian  thoroughly  hum- 
bled and  dependant.  Strong  minds  think,  per- 
haps, sometimes,  that  they  can  effect  great 
things  in  experience  by  keeping  themselves 
girt  up,  by  the  recun-ence  of  habit,  by  vigor- 
ous exertion.  This  is  their  unquestionable 
duty.  But  God  often  strips  them,  lest  they 
should  grow  confident.  He  lays  them  bare — 
He  makes  them  feel  poor,  dark,  impotent. 
He  seems  to  say,  "  Strive  with  all  your  vigor, 
but  yet  I  am  he  that  worketh  all  in  all." 

There  is  no  calling  or  profession,  however 
ensnaring  in  many  respects  to  a  Christian 
mind,  provided  it  be  not  in  itself  simply  un- 
lawful, wherein  God  has  not  frequently  raised 
up  faithful  witnesses,  who  have  stood  forth  for 
examples  to  others,  in  like  situations,  of  tlie 
practicability  of  uniting  great  eminence  in  the 
Christian  life  with  the  discharge  of  the  duties 
of  their  profession,  however  difficult. 

Fear  has  the  most  steady  effect  on  the  con- 
stitutional temperament  of  some  Christians, 
to  keep  them  in  their  course.  A  strong  sense 
of  DUTY  fixes  on  the  minds  of  others,  and  is 
the  prevailing  principle  of  conduct,  without  any 
direct  reference  to  consequences.  On  minds  of 
a  stubborn,  refractory,  and  self-willed  temper, 
fear  and  duty  have  in  general  little  effect :  they 
brave  fear,  and  a  mere  sense  of  duty  is  a  cold 
and  lifeless  principle  ;  but  gratitude,  under  a 
strong  and  subduing  sense  of  mercies,  melts 
them  into  obedience. 

There  is  a  large  class,  who  would  confound 
jiature  and  grace.  These  are  chiefly  women. 
They  sit  at  home,  nursing  themselves  over  a 
fire,  and  then  trace  up  the  natural  effects  of 
solitude  and  want  of  air  and  exercise  into  spi- 
ritual desertion.  There  is  more  pride  in  this 
than  they  are  aware  of.  They  are  unwilling 
to  allow  so  simple  and  natural  a  cause  of  their 
feelings  ;  and  wish  to  find  something  in  the 
thing  more  sublime. 

There  are  so  many  things  to  lower  a  man's 
topsails — he  is  such  a  dependant  creature — 
he  is  to  pay  such  court  to  his  stomach,  his 
food,  his  sleep,  his  exercise — that,  in  truth,  a 
hero  is  an  idle  word.  Man  seems  formed  to 
be  a  hero  in  suffering — not  a  hero  in  action. 
Men  err  in  nothing  more  than  in  their  estimate 
which  they  make  of  human  labor.  The  hero 
of  the  world  is  the  man  that  makes  a  bustle — 
the  man  that  makes  the  road  smoke  under Tiis 
chaise-and-four — the  man  that  raises  a  dust 
about  him — the  man  that  manages  or  devas- 
tates empires  !  But  what  is  the  real  labor  of 
this  man,  compared  with  that  of  a  silent  suf- 
ferer 1  He  lives  on  his  projects.  He  encoun- 
ters, perhaps,  rough  roads — incommodious 
inns — bad  food — storms  and  perils — weary 
days    and    sleepless    nights: — but  what   are 


these  ! — his  project — his  point — the  thing  that 
has  laid  hold  on  his  heart — glory — a  name- 
consequence — pleasure — wealth — these  ren- 
der the  man  callous  to  the  pains  and  efforts  of 
the  body  !  I  have  been  in  both  states,  and, 
therefore,  understand  them  ;  and  I  know  that 
men  form  this  false  estimate.  Besides — there 
is  something  in  bustle,  and  stir,  and  activity, 
that  supports  itself  At  one  period,  I  preached 
and  read  five  times  on  a  Sunday,  and  rode  six- 
teen miles.  But  what  did  it  cost  me  1  No- 
thing !  Yet  most  men  would  have  looked  on 
while  I  was  rattling  from  village  to  village, 
with  all  the  dogs  barking  at  my  heels,  and 
would  have  called  me  a  hero  :  whereas,  if  they 
were  to  look  at  me  now,  they  would  call  me 
an  idle,  lounging  fellow.  "  He  makes  a  ser- 
mon on  the  Saturday — he  gets  into  his  study — 
he  walks  from  end  to  end — he  scribbles  on  a 
scrap  of  paper — he  throws  it  nwaj  and  scrib- 
bles on  another — he  takes  snuff — he  sits  down — 
scribbles  again— walks  about.'  The  man  can- 
not see  that  here  is  an  exhaustion  of  the  spirit, 
which,  at  night,  will  leave  me  worn  to  the  ex- 
tremity of  endurance.  He  cannot  see  the  num- 
berless efforts  of  mind,  which  are  crossed  and 
stifled,  and  recoil  on  the  spirits,  like  the  fniit- 
less  efforts  of  a  traveller  lo  get  firm  footing 
among  the  ashes  on  the  steep  sides  of  Mount 
Etna.* 

Elijah  appears  to  have  been  a  man  of  what 
we  call  a  great  spirit  :  yet  we  never  find  him 
rising  against  the  humiliating  methods  which 
God  was  sometimes  pleased  to  take  with  him; 
whether  he  is  to  depend  for  his  daily  food  on 
the  ravens,  or  is  to  be  nourished  by  the  slender 
pittance  of  a  perishing  Avidow.  Pride  would 
choose  for  us  such  means  of  provision,  as  have 
some  appearance  of  our  own  agency  in  them; 
and  stout-heartedness  would  lead  us  to  refuse 
things,  if  we  cannot  have  them  in  our  own  way. 

The  blessed  man  is  he  who  is  under  deucation 
in  God's  school  ;  where  hr.  endures  chastise- 
ment, and  by  chastisement  is  instructed.  The 
foolish  creature  is  bewitched,  sometimes  with 
the  enchantments  and  sorceries  of  life.  He 
begins  to  lose  the  lively  sense  of  that  some- 
thing, which  is  superior  to  the  glory  of  the 
world.  His  grovelling  soul  begins  to  say,  "  Is  j 
not  this  fine  1  Is  not  that  charming  1  Is  not  \ 
that  noble  house  worth  a  wish  '\  Is  not  that 
equipage  worth  a  sigh '!  "  He  must  go  to  the 
word  of  God  to  know  what  a  thing  is  worth. 
He  must  be  taught  there  to  call  things  by  their 
proper  names.  If  he  have  lost  this  habit,  when 
his  heart  puts  the  questions  he  will  answer 
them  like  a  fool ;  as  I  have  done  a  thousand 
times.  He  will  forget  that  God  puts  his  chil- 
dren into  possession  of  these  things,  as  mere  ■ 
stewards  ;  and  that  the  possession  of  them  in-  ' 
creases  their  responsibility.  He  will  sit  down 
and  plan,  and  scheme  to  obtain  possession  of 
things,  which  he  forgets  are  to  be  burnt  and 
destroyed.    But  God  dashes  the  fond  scheme    ( 


See  the  Adventurer,  No.  cxxvii.— J.  P. 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


in  pieces.  He  disappoints  the  project.  And, 
with  the  chastisement  he  sends  instruction ;  for 
lie  knows  that  the  silly  creature,  if  left  to  him- 
self, would  begin,  like  the  spider  whose  web 
has  been  swept  away,  to  spin  again.  And  then 
tlie  man  sees  that  Job  is  blessed — not  when 
God  gives  him  sons  and  daughters,  and  flocks 
and  herds,  and  power,  and  honor ;  but  when 
God  takes  all  these  away — not  when  the 
scliemes  of  his  carnal  heart  are  indulged;  but 
when  they  are  crossed  and  disappointed.  A 
sTLfiBORN  and  rebellious  mind  in  a  Christian, 
must  be  kept  low  by  dark  and  trying  dispensa- 
tions. The  language  of  God,  in  his  provi- 
dence, to  such  an  one,  is  generally  of  this 
kind :  "  I  will  not  wholly  hide  myself.  I  will 
be  seen  by  thee.  But  thou  shalt  never  meet 
me,  except  in  a  dark  night  and  in  a  storm." 
Ministers  of  such  a  natural  spirit  are  often 
fitted  for  eminent  usefulness  by  these  means. 

The  Christian,  in  his  sufferings,  is  often 
tempted  to  think  himself  forgotten.  But  his 
affections  are  the  clearest  proofs  that  he  is  an 
object  both  of  Satan's  enmity,  and  of  God's 
fatherly  discipline.  Satan  would  not  have  man 
suffer  a  single  trouble  all  his  life  long,  if  he 
might  have  his  way.  He  would  give  him  the 
thing  his  heart  is  set  upon.  He  would  work 
in  with  his  .ambition.  He  would  pamper  his 
lusts  and  his  pride.  But  God  has  better  things 
in  reserve  for  his  children :  and  they  must  be 
brought  to  desire  them  and  seek  them ;  and 
this  will  be  through  the  wreck  and  sacrifice  of 
all  that  the  heart  holds  dear.  The  Christian 
prays  for  fuller  manifestations  of  Christ's  pow- 
er and  glory  and  love  to  him ;  but  he  is  often 
not  aware  that  this  is,  in  truth,  praying  to  be 
brought  into  the  furnace;  for  in  the  furnace 
only  it  is  that  Christ  can  walk  with  his  friends, 
and  display,  in  their  preservation  and  deliver- 
ance, his  own  almighty  power.  Yet  when 
brought  thither,  it  is  one  of  the  worst  parts  of 
the  trial,  that  the  Christian  often  thinks  him- 
self, for  a  time  at  least,  abandoned.  Job 
thought  so.  But  while  he  looked  on  himself 
as  an  outcast,  the  infinite  Spirit  and  the  wick- 
ed Spirit  were  holding  a  dialogue  on  his  case  ! 
He  was  more  an  object  of  notice  and  interest, 
than  the  largest  armies  that  w-ere  ever  assem- 
bled, and  the  mightiest  revolutions  that  ever 
shook  the  world,  considered  merely  m  then- 
temporal  interests  and  consequences.  Let  the 
Christian  be  deeply  concerned,  in  all  his  trials, 
10  honor  his  Master  before  such  observers  ! 

Affliction  has  a  tendency,  especially  if 
long  continued,  to  generate  a  kind  of  despond- 
ency and  ill-temper:  and  spiritual  incapacity 
is  closely  connected  with  pain  and  sickness. 
The  spirit  of  prayer  does  not  necessarily  come 
with  affliction.  If  this  be  not  poured  out  upon 
the  man,  he  will,  like  a  wounded  beast,  skulk 
to  his  den  and  growl  there. 

God  has  marked  implicitness  and  simplicity 
OF  faith  with  peculiar  approbation.  He  has 
done  this  throughout  the  Scripture ;  and  he  is 
doing  it  daily  in  the  Christian  life.    An  unsus- 


pecting, unquestioning,  unhesitating  spirit,  he 
delights  to  honor.  He  does  not  delight  in  a 
credulous,  weak,  and  unstable  mind.  He  gives 
us  full  evidence,  when  he  calls  and  leads; 
but  he  expects  to  find  in  us — what  he  himself 
bestows — an  open  ear  and  disposed  heart. 
Though  he  gives  us  not  the  evidence  of  sense ; 
yet  he  gives  such  evidence  as  will  be  heard 
by  an  open  ear,  and  followed  by  a  disposed 
heart : — Thomas !  because  thou  hast  seen  me, 
thou  hast  believed  :  blessed  are  they  that  have  not 
seen,  and  yet  have  believed.  We  are  witnesses 
what  an  open  ear  and  a  disposed  heart  will  do 
in  men  of  the  world.  If  wealth  is  in  pursuit 
— if  a  place  presents  itself  before  them — if 
their  persons  and  families  and  afl'airs  are  the 
object — a  whisper,  a  hint,  a  probability,  a  mere 
chance,  is  a  sufficient  ground  of  action.  It  is 
this  very  state  of  mind,  with  regard  to  religion, 
which  God  delights  in  and  honors.  lie  seems 
to  put  forth  his  hand,  and  to  say — "  Put  thy 
hand  into  mine.  Follow  all  my  leadings 
Keep  thyself  attentive  to  every  turn."' 

A  SOUND  heart  is  an  excellent  casuist.  Men 
stand  doubting  what  they  shall  do,  while  an 
evil  heart  is  at  the  bottom.  If,  with  St.  Paul, 
they  simply  did  one  thing,  the  way  would  be 
plain.  A  miser,  or  an  ambitious  man,  knows 
his  points  ;  and  he  has  such  a  simplicity  in  the 
pursuit  of  them,  that  you  seldom  find  him  at  a 
loss  about  the  steps  which  he  should  take  to 
attain  them.  He  has  acquired  a  sort  of  in- 
stinctive habit  in  his  pursuit.  Simplicity  and 
rectitude  would  have  prevented  a  thousand 
schisms  in  the  church ,  which  have  generally 
risen  from  men  having  something  else  in  plan 
and  prospect,  and  not  the  one  thing. 

What  /  do,  thou  knowest  not  now;  but  thou 
shalt  know  hereafter— m  the  unwearied  language 
of  God,  in  his  providence.  He  will  have 
CREDIT  every  step.  He  will  not  assign  rea- 
sons, because  he  will  exercise  faith. 

Pride  urges  men  to  inquire  into  the  philo- 
sophy of  divine  truth.  They  are  not  content- 
ed, for  example,  with  the  account  which  the 
Bible  gives  of  the  origin  of  evil,  and  its  actual 
influence  on  mankind ;  but  they  would  supply 
what  God  has  left  untold.  They  would  ex- 
plain the  fitness  and  propriety  of  things.  A 
mathematician  may  summon  his  scholars 
round  his  chair,  and  from  self-evident  prin- 
ciples deduce  and  demonstrate  his  conclusions  : 
he  has  axioms ;  but  concerning  evil  we  have 
none.  A  Christian  may  say  on  this  subject,  as 
Sir  Christopher  Wren  did  concerning  the  roof 
of  King's  College  Chapel—"  Show  me  how  to 
fix  the  first  stone,  and  I  will  finish  the  build- 
ing."—" Explain  the  origin  of  evil,  and  I  will 
explain  every  other  difficulty  respecting  evd." 
Wc  are  placed  in  a  disposition  and  constitution 
of  things,  under  a  righteous  Governor.  If  we 
will  not  rest  satisfied  with  this,  something  is 
wrong  in  our  state  of  mind.  It  is  a  sohd  sa- 
tisfaction to  every  man  who  has  been  seduced 
into  foolish  inquiries,  that  it  is  utterly  impossi- 
ble to  advance  one  inch  by  them.    He  must 


28 


REMAINS    OF   MR.    CECIL. 


come  back  to  rest  in  God's  appointment ;  he 
must  come  back  to  sit  ]f»atiently,  meekly,  and 
with  docility,  at  the  feet  of  a  teacher. 

Duties  are  ours :  events  are  God's.  This  re- 
moves an  infinite  burden  from  the  shoulders  of 
a  miserable,  tempted,  dying  creature.  On  this 
consideration  only,  can  he  securely  lay  down 
his  head  and  close  his  eyes. 

The  Christian  often  thinks,  and  schemes, 
and  talks,  hke  a  practical  Atlieist.  His  eye 
is  so  conversant  with  second  causes,  that  the 
great  Mover  is  little  regarded.  And  yet  those 
sentiments  and  that  conduct  of  others,  by 
which  his  affairs  are  influenced,  are  not  form- 
ed by  chance  and  at  random.  They  are  at- 
tracted toward  the  system  of  his  affairs,  or  re- 
pelled from  them,  by  the  highest  power.  We 
talk  of  attraction  in  the  universe  ;  but  there  is 
no  such  thing,  as  we  are  accustomed  to  con- 
sider it.  The  natural  and  moral  worlds  are 
held  together  in  their  respective  operations  by 
an  incessant  administration.  It  is  the  mighty 
grasp  of  a  controlling  hand,  which  keeps  every 
thing  in  its  station.  Were  this  control  sus- 
pended, there  is  nothing  adequate  to  the  pre- 
servation of  harmony  and  aftVction  between 
my  mind  and  that  of  my  dearest  friend,  for  a 
single  hour. 

Lord  Chesterfield  tells  his  son,  that  when  he 
entered  into  the  world,  and  heard  the  conjec- 
tures and  notions  about  public  affairs,  he  was 
surprised  at  their  folly  ;  because  he  was  in  the 
secret,  and  knew  what  was  passing  in  the  cab- 
inet. We  negotiate.  We  make  treaties.  We 
make  war.  We  cry  for  peace.  We  have  pub- 
lic hopes  and  fears.  We  distrust  one  minis- 
ter, and  we  repose  on  another.  We  recall  one 
general  or  admiral,  because  he  has  lost  the 
national  confidence,  and  we  send  out  another 
with  a  full  tide  of  hopes  and  expectations. 
We  find  something  in  men  and  measures,  as 
the  sufficient  cause  of  all  sufferings  or  antici- 
pations.— But  a  religious  man  enters  the  cabi- 
net. He  sees,  in  all  public  fears  and  difficul- 
ties, the  pressure  of  God's  hand.  So  long  as 
this  pressure  continues,  he  knows  that  we  may 
move  heaven  and  earth  in  vain  :  every  thing  is 
bound  up  in  icy  fetters.  But,  when  God  re- 
moves his  hand,  the  waters  flow,  measures 
avail,  and  hopes  are  accomplished. 

We  are  too  apt  to  forget  our  actual  depend- 
ance  on  providence,  for  the  circumstances  of 
every  instant.  The  most  trivial  events  may 
determine  our  state  in  the  world.  Turning  up 
one  street  instead  of  another,  may  bring  us 
into  company  with  a  person  whom  we  should 
not  otherwise  have  met;  and  this  may  lead  to 
a  train  of  other  events,  which  may  determine 
the  happiness  or  misery  of  our  lives. 

Light  may  break  m  upon  a  man  after  he  has 
taken  a  particular  step ;  but  he  will  not  con- 
demn himself  for  the  step  taken  in  a  less  de- 


1  gree  of  light :  he  may  hereafter  see  still  better 
j  than  he  now  does,  and  have  reason  to  alter  his 
opinion  again.  It  is  enough  to  satisfy  us  of 
'  our  duty,  if  we  are  conscious  that,  at  the  time 
i  we  take  a  step,  we  have  an  adequate  motive. 
j  If  we  are  conscious  of  a  wrong  motive,  or  of 
a  rash  proceeding,  for  such  steps  we  must  ex- 
pect to  suffer. 

Trouble  or  difficulty  befalling  us  after  any 
particular  step,  is  not,  of  itself,  an  argument 
that  the  step  was  wrong.  A  storm  overtook 
the  disciples  in  the  ship ;  but  this  was  no  proof 
that  they  had  done  wrong  to  go  on  board. 
Esau  met  Jacob,  and  occasioned  him  great  fear 
and  anxiety,  when  he  left  Laban ;  but  this  did 
not  prove  him  to  have  done  wrong  in  the  step 
which  he  had  taken.  Difficulties  are  no  ground 
of  presumption  against  us,  when  we  did  not 
run  into  them  in  following  our  own  will :  yet 
the  Israelites  were  with  difficulty  convinced 
that  they  were  in  the  path  of  duty,  when  they 
found  themselves  shut  in  by  the  Red  Sea. 
Christians,  and  especially  ministers,  must  ex- 
pect troubles :  it  is  in  this  way  that  God  leads 
them :  he  conducts  them  ""per  ardua  ad  astra.'" 
They  would  be  in  imminent  danger  if  the  mul- 
titude at  all  times  cried  Hosanna ! 

We  must  remember  that  we  are  short-sight- 
ed creatures.  We  are  like  an  unskilful  chess- 
player, who  takes  the  next  piece,  while  a  skil- 
ful one  looks  further.  He,  who  sees  the  end 
from  the  beginning,  will  often  appoint  us  a  most 
inexplicable  way  to  walk  in.  Joseph  was  put 
into  the  pit  and  the  dungeon  :  but  this  was  the 
way  which  led  to  the  throne. 

We  often  want  to  know  too  much  and  too 
soon.  We  want  the  light  of  to-morrow,  but  it 
will  not  come  till  to-morrow.  And  then  a 
slight  turn,  perhaps,  will  throw  such  light  on 
our  path,  that  we  shall  be  astonished  we  saw 
not  our  way  before.  "  I  can  wait,"  says  La- 
vater.  This  is  a  high  attainment.  We  must 
labor,  therefore,  to  be  quiet  in  that  path,  from 
which  we  cannot  recede  without  danger  and 
evil. 


There  is  not  a  nobler  sight  in  the  world 
than  an  aged  and  experienced  Christian,  who, 
having  been  sifted  in  the  sieve  of  temptation, 
stands  forth  as  a  confirmer  of  the  assaulted — 
testifying,  from  his  own  trials,  the  reality  of 
religion ;  and  meeting,  by  his  warnings  and 
directions  and  consolations,  the  cases  of  all 
who  may  be  tempted  to  doubt  it. 

The  Christian  expects  his  reward,  not  as 
due  to  merit ;  but  as  connected,  in  a  constitu- 
tion of  grace,  with  those  acts  which  grace 
enables  him  to  perform.  The  pilgrim,  who 
has  been  led  to  the  gate  of  heaven,  will  not 
knock  there  as  worthy  of  being  admitted;  but 
the  gate  shall  open  to  him,  because  he  is 
brought  thither.  He  who  sotvs,  even  loith 
tears,  the  precious  seed  of  faith,  hope,  and  love, 
shall  doubtless  come  again  icith  joy.  and  bring  his 
sheaves  with  him ;  because  it  is  in  the  very  na- 
ture of  that  seed  to  yield,  under  the  kindly 
influence  secured  to  it,  a  joyful  harvest. 


REMAINS    OF   MR.  CECIL. 


ON    SUBJECTS    CONNECTED    WITH 
THE  CHRISTIAN  MINISTRY. 

On  a  Minister's  qualifying  himself  for  his  Office. 

When  a  young  minister  sets  out,  he  should 
sit  down  and  ask  himself  how  he  may  best 

QUALIFY  HIMSELF  FOR  HIS  OFFICE. 

How  does  a  physician  qualify  himself!  It 
is  not  enough  that  he  offers  to  feel  the  pulse. 
He  must  read,  and  inquire,  and  observe,  and 
make  experiments,  and  correct  himself  again 
and  again.  He  must  lay  in  a  stock  of  medical 
knowledge  before  he  begins  to  feel  the  pulse. 

The  minister  is  a  physician  of  a  far  higher 
order.  He  has  a  vast 'field  before  him.  He 
has  to  study  an  infinite  variety  of  constitutions. 
He  is  to  furnish  himself  with  the  knowledge 
of  the  whole  system  of  remedies.  He  is  to 
be  a  man  of  skill  and  expedient.  If  one  thing 
fail,  he  must  know  how  to  apply  another. 
Many  intricate  and  perplexed  cases  will  come 
before  him:  it  will  be  disgraceful  to  him  not 
to  be  prepared  for  such.  His  patients  will  put 
many  questions  to  him:  it  will  be  disgraceful 
to  him  not  to  be  prepared  to  answer  them.  He 
is  a  merchant  embarking  in  extensive  concerns. 
A  little  ready  money  in  the  pocket  will  not 
answer  the  demands  that  will  be  made  upon 
him.  Some  of  us  seem  to  think  it  will.  But 
they  are  grossly  deceived.  There  must  be  a 
well  furnished  accoimt  at  the  banker's. 

But  it  is  not  all  gold  that  glitters.  A  young 
minister  must  learn  to  separate  and  select  his 
materials.  A  man  who  talks  to  himself  will 
find  out  what  suits  the  heart  of  man :  some 
things  respond :  they  ring  again.  Nothing  of 
this  nature  is  lost  on  mankind :  it  is  worth  its 
weight  in  gold,  for  the  service  of  a  minister. 
He  must  remark,  too,  what  it  is  that  puzzles 
and  distract  s  the  mind :  all  this  is  to  be  avoided : 
it  may  wear  the  garb  of  deep  research,  and 
great  acumen,  and  extensive  learning ;  but  it 
is  nothing  to  the  mass  of  mankind. 

One  of  the  most  important  considerations  in 
making  a  sermon,  is  to  disembarrass  it  as  nuich 
as  possible.  The  sermons  of  the  last  century 
were  like  their  large  unwieldy  chairs.  Men  have 
now  a  far  more  true  idea  of  a  chair.  They 
consider  it  as  a  piece  of  furniture  to  sit  upon,  and 
they  cut  away  from  it  every  thing  that  embar- 
rasses and  encumbers  it.  It  requires  as  much 
reflection  and  wisdom  to  know  what  is  not  to 
be  put  into  a  sermon,  as  what  is. 

A  young  minister  should  likewise  look  round 
him,  that  he  may  see  what  has  succeeded  and 
what  has  not.  Truth  is  to  be  his  companion, 
but  he  is  to  clothe  her  so  as  to  gain  her  access. 
Truth  nuist  never  bow  to  fashion  or  prejudice ; 
but  her  garb  may  he  varied.  No  man  was  ever 
eminently  successful  in  his  ministry,  who  did 
not  make  Truth  his  friend.  Such  a  man  miglit 
not  see  her,  indeed,  in  all  her  beauty  and  pro- 
portions ;  but,  certainly,  he  saw  and  loved  her. 
A  young  minister  should  remember  that  she 
does  not  wear  the  dress  of  a  party.  Wherever 
she  is,  she  is  one  and  the  same,  however  va- 
riously men  may  array  her.  He  who  is  igno- 
rant of  her  prominent  and  distinguishing  fea- 
105  "^        85* 


tures,  is  like  a  musician  who  plays  half  score : 
it  grates  on  every  well-formed  ear;  as  fatal 
error  finds  no  corresponding  vibration  in  the 
renewed  heart.  Truth  forms  an  immediate 
acquaintance  with  such  a  heart,  by  a  certain 
fitness  and  suitableness  to  its  state  and  feel- 
ings. She  is  something  different  from  the  pic- 
ture which  a  Churchman  draws  of  her.  A 
Dissenter  misses  her  perfect  figure.  A  French- 
man distorts  her  features  in  one  way,  and  an 
Englishman  in  another.  Every  one  makes  his 
own  cast  and  color  too  essential  to  her. 

Knowledge,  then,  and  truth,  are  to  be  the 
constant  aim  of  a  young  minister.  But  where 
shall  he  find  them  ]  Let  him  learn  from  a  fool, 
if  a  fool  can  teach  him  any  thing.  Let  him 
be  every  where,  and  always  a  learner.  He 
should  imitate  Gainsborough.  Gainsborough 
transfused  nature  into  his  landscapes,  beyond 
almost  any  of  his  contemporaries:  because 
Gainsborougii  was  every  where  the  painter. 
Every  remarkable  feature  or  position  of  a  tree 
— every  fine  stroke  of  nature — was  copied 
into  his  pocket-book  on  the  spot;  and,  in  his 
next  picture,  appeared  with  a  life  and  vivacity 
and  nature,  which  no  strength  of  memory  or 
imagination  could  have  supplied. 

There  is  a  certain  wise  way,  too,  in  which  he 
should  accustom  himself  to  look  down  on  the 
pursuits  of  all  other  men.  No  man  of  emi- 
nence in  his  profession  is  destitute  of  such  a 
partial  feeling  for  his  profession,  tliough  his 
judgment  may  remonstrate  with  him  tliereon, 
as  an  unfounded  partiality.  The  minister,  how- 
ever, is  REQUIRED  SO  to  vicw  all  other  pursuits. 
He  alone  is  the  man  whose  aim  is  eternity. 
He  alone  is  the  man  whose  office  and  profes- 
sion, in  all  their  parts,  are  raised  into  dignity 
and  importance,  by  their  direct  reference  to 
eternity.  For  eternity  he  schemes,  and  plans, 
and  labors. 

He  should  become  a  philosopher  also.  He 
sliould  make  experiments  on  himself  and 
others,  in  order  to  find  out  what  will  produce 
eff"ect.  He  is  a  fisherman :  and  the  fisherman 
must  fit  himself  to  his  employment.  If  some 
fish  will  bite  only  by  day,  he  must  fish  by  day : 
if  others  will  bite  only  by  moon-light,  he  must 
fish  for  them  by  moon-light.  He  has  an  engine 
to  work,  and  it  must  be  his  most  assiduous 
endeavor  to  work  his  engine  to  the  full  extent 
of  its  powers:  and,  to  find  out  its  powers,  is 
the  first  step  toward  success  and  eflfect.  Many 
men  play  admirably  on  the  organ,  if  you  would 
allow  to  them  that  there  is  no  diff'erence  be- 
tween an  organ  and  a  harpsichord,  but  they 
have  utterly  mistaken  its  powers.  Combina- 
tion is  the  unrivalled  excellence  of  the  organ; 
and  therefore  he  only  can  display  its  powers, 
who  studies  the  chords  and  stops  in  all  their 
infinite  variety  of  resolution  and  composition, 
rather  than  the  rapid  motion  of  his  fingers 
only. 

But  all  the  minister's  eff"orts  will  be  v?" 
or  worse  than  vanity,  if  he  have  not 
Unction  must  come  down  from  he 
spread  a  savor  and  relish  and  feeliir 
ministry.     And,  among  all  the  otht 
qualifying  himself  for  his  officcj  the  L 


30 


REMAINS    OF   MR.  CECIL, 


hold  the  first  place,  and  the  last  also  must  be 
given  to  the  word  of  God  and  prayer. 

On  the  Assistance  ichich  a  Minister  has  reason  to 

expect  in  the  Discharge  of  his  Public  Duty. 

Men  have  carried  their  views  on  this  sub- 
ject to  extremes.  Enthusiasts  have  said  that 
learning,  and  that  studying  and  writing  ser- 
mons, have  injured  the  church.  The  accurate 
men  have  said,  "  Go  and  hear  one  of  these 
enthusiasts  hold  forth !" 

But  both  classes  may  be  rendered  useful. 
Let  each  correct  its  evils,  yet  do  its  work  in 
its  own  way. 

Some  men  set  up  exorbitant  notions  about 
accuracy.  But  exquisite  accuracy  is  totally 
lost  on  mankind.  The  greater  part  of  those 
who  hear,  cannot  be  brought  to  see  the  points 
of  the  accurate  man.  The  Scriptures  are  not 
written  in  this  manner.  I  sliould  advise  a 
young  minister  to  break  through  all  such  cob- 
webs, as  these  unphilosophical  men  would 
spin  round  him.  An  humble  and  modest  man 
is  silenced,  if  he  sees  one  of  these  critics  be- 
fore him.  He  should  say,  "  I  am  God's  ser- 
vant. To  my  own  master  I  stand  or  fall.  I 
will  labor  according  to  the  utmost  ability  which 
God  giveth,  and  leave  all  consequences  to 
him." 

We  are  especially  taught  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment to  glorify  theSpirit  of  God;  and,  in  his 
gracious  operations  in  our  ministry,  we  are 
nearer  the  apostolic  times  than  we  often  think 
ourselves.  But  this  assistance  is  to  be  expected 
by  us,  as  laborers  in  the  vineyard ;  not  as  rhap- 
sodists.  Idle  men  may  be  pointed  out,  who 
have  abused  the  doctrine  of  divine  assistance  ; 
but  what  has  not  been  abused  !  We  must  ex- 
pect a  special  blessing  to  accompany  the  truth  : 
not  to  supersede  labor,  but  to  rest  on  and  accom- 
pany labor. 

A  minister  is  to  be  in  season,  and  out  of  sea- 
son ;  and,  therefore,  every  where  a  minister. 
He  will  not  employ  himself  in  writing  secular 
histories :  he  will  not  busy  himself  in  prose- 
cuting mathematical  inquiries.  He  will  labor 
directly  in  his  high  calling:  and  indirectly,  in 
a  vast  variety  of  ways,  as  he  may  be  enabled: 
and  God  may  bless  that  word  in  private,  which 
may  have  been  long  heard  in  public  in  vain. 

A  minister  should  satisfy  himself  in  saying, 
"  It  matters  not  what  men  think  of  my  talents. 
Am  I  doing  what  I  canl" — for  there  is  great 
encouragement  in  that  commendation  of  our 
Lord,  She  hath  done  what  she  could.  It  would 
betray  a  wrong  slate  of  mind  to  say,  "  If  I  had 
discharged  my  duty  in  such  and  such  a  way,  I 
should  have  succeeded."  This  is  a  carnal  spirit. 
If  God  bless  the  simple  manner  in  which  you 
spoke,  that  will  do  good ;  if  not,  no  manner  of 
speaking  could  have  done  it. 

There  is  such  a  thing  in  the  religious  world 
as  a  cold,  carnal  wisdom  ;  every  thing  must  be 
nicely  weighed  in  the  scales :  every  thing  must 
be  exactly  measured  by  the  rule.  I  question 
if  this  is  not  worse,  in  its  consequences,  than 
the  enthusiasm  which  it  opposes.  Both  are 
evil  and  to  be  shunned      But  I  scarcely  ever 


knew  a  preacher  or  writer  of  this  class  who 
did  much  good. 

We  are  to  go  forth,  expecting  the  excellency 
of  God''s  poiver  to  accompany  us,  since  we  are 
but  earthen  Dessels :  and  if,  in  the  apostolic 
days,  diligence  was  necessary,  how  much 
more  requisite  is  it  now  ! 

But,  to  the  exercise  of  this  diligence,  a  suf- 
ficiency in  all  things  is  promised.  What  docs 
a  minister  require  ]  In  all  these  respects,  the 
promise  is  applicable  to  him.  He  needs,  for 
instance,  courage  and  patience  :  he  may,  there- 
fore, expect  that  the  Holy  Spirit  will  enable 
him  for  the  exercise  of  these  graces. 

A  minister  may  expect  more  superintend- 
ence, more  elevation,  than  a  hearer.  It  can 
scarcely  be  questioned  that  he  ought  to  pray 
for  this ;  if  so,  he  has  a  ground  in  Scripture 
thus  to  pray. 

I  have  been  cured  of  expecting  the  Holy 
Spirit's  influence  without  due  preparation  on 
our  part,  by  observing  how  men  preach  who 
take  up  that  error.  I  have  heard  such  men 
talk  nonsense  by  the  hour. 

We  must  combine  Luther  with  St.  Paul — 
^^  Bene  orasse  est  bene  studuisse,^''  must  be  united 
with  St.  Paul's  Meditate  upon  these  things:  give 
thyself  loholly  to  them,  that  thy  profiting  may  ap- 
pear to  all.  One  errs  who  says,  "  I  will  preach 
a  reputable  sermon:"  and  another  errs  who 
says,  "  I  will  leave  all  to  the  assistance  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,"  while  he  has  neglected  a  diligent 
preparation. 

On  Preaching  Christ. 
We  preach  Christ  crucified— 1  Cor.  i.  23. 

Christ  is  God's  great  ordinance.  Nothing 
ever  has  been  done,  or  will  be  done  to  purpose, 
but  so  far  as  he  is  held  forth  with  simplicity. 
All  the  lines  must  centre  in  him.  I  feel  this 
in  mj'  own  experience,  and  therefore  I  govern 
my  ministry  by  it :  but  then  this  is  to  be  done 
according  to  the  analogy  of  faith — not  ignorant- 
ly,  absurdly,  and  falsely.  I  doubt  not,  indeed, 
but  that  excess  on  this  side  is  less  pernicious 
than  excess  on  the  other ;  because  God  will 
bless  his  own  especial  ordinance,  though  par- 
tially understood  and  partially  exhibited. 

There  are  many  weighty  reasons  for  render- 
ing Christ  prominent  in  our  ministry : — 

1.  Christ  cheers  the  prospect.  Every  thing 
connected  with  him  has  light  and  gladness 
thrown  round  it.  I  look  out  of  my  window  : 
— the  scene  is  scowling — dark — frigid — forbid- 
ding: I  shudder — my  heart  is  chilled.  But  let 
the  sun  break  forth  from  the  cloud — I  can  feel 
— I  can  act — I  can  spring. 

2.  God  descending  and  dwelling  with  man,  is  a 
truth  so  infinitely  grand,  that  it  must  absorb  all 
other.  "You  are  his  attendants!  Well!  but 
the  king!     There  he  is! — The  king  !" 

3.  Out  of  Christ  God  is  not  intelligible,  much 
less  amiable.  Such  men  as  Clarke  and  Aber- 
nethy  talk  sublime  nonsense.  A  sick  woman 
said  to  me — '  Sir!  I  liave  no  notion  of  God.  I 
can  form  no  notion  of  him.  You  talk  to  me 
about  him,  but  I  cannot  get  a  single  idea  that 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


31 


seems  to  contain  any  thing.' — '  But  you  know 
how  to  conceive  of  Jesus  Christ  us  a  man! 
God  comes  down  to  you  in  him,  full  of  kind- 
ness and  condescension.' — '  Ah )  Sir,  that  gives 
me  something  to  lay  hold  on.  There  I  can 
rest.  I  understand  God  in  his  Son.'  But  if 
God  is  not  intelligible  out  of  Christ,  much  less 
is  he  amiable,  though  I  ought  to  feel  him  so. 
He  is  an  object  of  horror  and  aversion  to  me, 
corrupted  as  I  am  !  I  fear — I  tremble — I  re- 
sist— I  hate — I  rebel. 

4.  A  preacher  may  pursue  his  topic,  without 
being  led  by  it  to  Christ.  A  man  who  is  accus- 
tomed to  investigate  topics  is  in  danger.  He 
takes  up  his  topic  and  pursues  it.  He  takes 
up  another  and  pursues  it.  At  length  Jesus 
Christ  becomes  his  topic,  and  then  he  pursues 
that.  If  he  cannot  so  feel  and  think  as  to 
bend  all  subjects  naturally  and  gracefully  to 
Christ,  he  must  seek  his  remedy  in  selecting 
such  as  are  more  evangelical. 

5.  God  puts  peculiar  honor  on  the  preaching  of 
Christ  crucified.  A  philosopher  may  philoso- 
phize his  hearers,  but  the  preaching  of  Christ 
must  convert  them.  John  the  Baptist  will 
make  his  hearers  tremble  ;  but,  if  the  least  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  greater  than  he,  let  him 
exhibit  that  peculiar  feature  of  his  superiority — 
Jesus  Christ.  Men  may  preach  Christ  igno- 
rantly — blunderingly— absurdly  :  yet  God  will 
give  it  efficacy,  because  he  is  determined  to 
magnify  his  own  ordinance. 

6.  God  seems,  m  the  doctrine  of  the  cross,  to 
design  the  destruction  of  man'' s  pride.  Even  the 
murderer  and  the  adulterer  sometimes  become 
subjects  of  the  grace  of  the  Gospel,  because 
the  murderer  and  adulterer  are  more  easily 
convinced  and  humbled  :  but  the  man  of  virtue 
is  seldom  reached,  because  the  man  of  virtue 
disdains  to  descend.  Remember  me,  saved  a 
dying  malefactor  !—Gorf,  I  thank  Thee,  con- 
demned a  proud  Pharisee ! 

EvERV  minister  should,  therefore,  inquire, 
"  What  is  for  me  the  wisest  way  of  preach- 
ing CHRIST  TO  MEN  ]"  Some  seem  to  think  that 
in  the  choice  of  a  wise  way,  there  lurks  always 
a  TRIMMING  disposition.  There  are  men,  doubt- 
less, who  will  sacrifice  to  self,  even  Christ 
Jesus  the  Lord:  but  they,  of  all  men,  are 
farthest  from  the  thing.  There  is  a  secret 
in  doing  it,  which  none  but  an  honest  man 
can  discover.  The  knave  is  not  half  wise 
enough. 

We  are  not  to  judge  one  another  in  these 
things.  Sufficient  it  is  to  us.  to  know  what 
WE  have  to  do.  There  are  different  ways  of 
doing  the  same  thing,  and  thai  with  success 
and  acceptance.  We  see  this  in  the  apostles 
themselves.  They  not  only  preached  Christ 
in  different  ways  ;  but,  what  is  more,  they 
could  not  do  this  like  one  another.  They 
declare  this  fact  themselves  ;  and  acknowledge 
the  grace  of  God  in  their  respective  gifts.  Our 
beloved  brother  Paul  writes,  says  St.  Peter,  ac- 
cording to  the  wisdom  given  unto  him.  But 
there  are  Peters  in  o\ir  days,  who  would 
say—"  Paul  is  too  learned.  Away  with  these 
things,  which  are  hard  to  be  understood.     He 


should  be  more  simple.  I  dislike  all  this  rea- 
soning."' And  there  are  Pauls,  who  would 
say,  "  Peter  is  rash  and  unguarded.  He  should 
put  a  curb  on  his  impetuosity."  And  there  are 
Johns,  who  would  say,  "They  should  both  dis- 
charge their  ofiice  in  my  soft  and  winning  man- 
ner. No  good  will  come  of  this  fire  and 
noise."  Nothing  of  this  sort !  Each  hath  his 
proper  gift  of  God  ;  one  after  this  manner,  a7id 
another  after  that:  and  each  seems  only  desi- 
rous to  occupy  faithfully  till  his  Master  come, 
leaving  his  brethren  to  stand  or  fall  to  their  oion 
Master. 

Too  much  dependance  is  often  placed  on  a 
system  of  rational  contrivance.  A  n  ingenious 
man  thinks  he  can  so  manage  to  preach  Christ, 
that  his  hearers  will  say — "  Here  is  nothing 
of  methodism  !  This  has  nothing  to  do  with 
that  system  ! "  I  will  venture  to  say,  if  this  is 
the  sentiment  communicated  by  his  ministry, 
that  he  has  not  delivered  his  message.  The 
people  do  not  know  what  he  means,  or  he  has 
kept  back  part  of  God's  truth.  He  has  fallen 
on  a  carnal  contrivance,  to  avoid  a  cross,  and 
he  does  no  good  to  souls.  The  whole  message 
MUST  be  delivered ;  and  it  is  better  it  should 
be  delivered  even  coarsely,  than  not  at  all. 
We  may  lay  it  down  as  a  principle — That  if 
the  Gospel  be  a  medicine,  and  a  specific  too — 
as  it  is — it  must  be  got  down  such  as  it  is. 
Any  attempt  to  sophisticate  and  adulterate 
will  deprive  it  of  its  efficacy  :  and  will  often 
recoil  on  the  man  who  makes  the  attempt,  to 
his  shame  and  confusion.  The  Jesuits  tried 
to  render  Christianity  palatable  to  the  Chinese 
by  adulterating  it ;  but  the  Jesuits  were  driven 
with  abhorrence  from  the  empire. 

If  we  have  to  deal  with  men  of  learning,  let 
us  show  learning  so  far  as  to  demonstrate  that 
it  bears  its  testimony  to  the  truth.  But  ac- 
commodation in  manner  must  often  spring 
from  humility.  We  must  condescend  to  the 
capacity  of  men,  and  make  the  truth  intelli- 
gible to  them. 

If  this  be  our  manner  of  preaching  Christ, 
we  must  make  up  our  minds  not  to  regard  the 
little  caviller  who  will  judge  us  by  the  stand- 
ard of  his  favorite  author  or  preacher.  We 
must  be  cautious,  too,  since  men  of  God  have 
been  and  ever  will  be  the  butt  and  scorn  of  the 
world,  of  thinking  that  we  can  escape  its 
snares  and  its  censures.  It  is  a  foolish  pro- 
ject— To  AVOID  giving  offence  ;  but  it  is  our 
duty  to  avoid  giving  unnecessarv  offence.  It 
is  necessary  offence,  if  it  is  given  by  the 
truth  ;  but  it  is  unnecessary,  if  our  own  spirit 
occasion  it. 

I  have  often  thought  that  St.  Paul  was  raised 
up  peculiarly  to  be  an  example  to  others,  in 
laboring  to  discover  the  wisest  way  of  exhibit- 
ing the  Gospel ;  not  only  that  he  was  to  be  a 
great  pattern  in  other  points,  but  designedly 
raised  up  for  this  very  thing.  How  does  he 
labor  to  make  the  truth  reasonably  plain  !— 
How  does  he  strain  every  nerve  and  ransack 
every  corner  of  the  heart,  to  make  it  reason- 
ably" palatable  !  We  need  not  be  instructed 
in  his  particular  meaning,  when  he  says,  /  be- 
came all  things  to  all  men,  »/  by  any  mearu  1 


32 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


7night  save  some.    His  history  is  a  comment  on 
the  declaration. 

The  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ  is  a  wonder- 
ful niysteiy.  Some  men  think  they  preach 
Christ  gloriously,  because  they  name  him  every 
two  minutes  in  their  sermons.  But  that  is  not 
preaching  Christ.  To  understand,  and  enter 
into,  and  open  his  various  offices  and  charac- 
ters—the glories  of  his  person  and  work — his 
relation  to  us,  and  ours  to  him,  and  to  God  the 
Father  and  God  the  Spirit  through  him — this 
is  the  knowledge  of  Christ.  The  divines  of 
the  present  day  are  stunted  dwarfs  in  this 
knowledge,  compared  with  the  great  men  of 
the  last  age.  To  know  Jesus  Christ  for  our- 
selves, is  to  make  him  a  consolation, — de- 
light,   STRENGTH, RIGHTEOUSNESS,  —  COMPAN- 
ION,— and  END. 

This  is  the  aspect  in  which  religion  should 
be  presented  to  mankind  :  it  is  suited,  above 
all  other,  to  produce  effect ;  and  effect  is  our 
object.  We  must  take  human  nature  as  we 
find  human  nature.  We  must  take  human  na- 
ture in  great  cities,  as  we  find  human  nature 
in  great  cities.  We  may  say — "  this  or  that 
is  the  aspect  which  ought  to  have  most  effect : 
we  must  illuminate  the  mind  :  we  must  enlist 
the  reason  :  we  must  attack  the  conscience." 
We  may  do  all  this,  and  yet  our  comparative 
Avant  of  success  in  begetting  and  educating  the 
sons  of  glory,  may  demonstrate  to  us  that  there 
is  some  more  effective  way;  and  that  sound 
sense  and  philosophy  call  on  us  to  adopt  that 
way,  BECAUSE  it  is  the  most  effective. 

Our  system  of  preaching  must  meet  man- 
kind :  they  must  find  it  possible  to  live  in  the 
bustle  of  the  world,  and  yet  serve  God  :  after 
being  worried  and  harassed  with  its  concerns, 
let  them  hear  cheering  truths  concerning 
Christ's  love  and  care  and  pity,  which  will 
operate  like  an  enchantment  in  dispelling  the 
cares  of  life,  and  calming  the  anxious  perturb- 
ations of  conscience.  Bring  forward  privi- 
leges and  enforce  duties,  in  their  proper  places 
and  proportions. 

Let  there  be  no  extremes  :  yet  I  am  arrived 
at  this  conviction  : — Men,  who  lean  toward  the 
extreme  of  evangelical  privileges  in  their 
ministry,  do  much  more  to  the  conversion  of 
their  hearers,  than  they  do  who  lean  toward 
the  extreme  of  requirement.  And  my  own 
experience  confirms  my  observation.  I  feel 
myself  repelled,  if  any  thing  chills,  loads,  or 
urges  me.  This  is  my  nature,  and  I  see  it  to 
be  very  much  the  nature  of  other  men.  But, 
let  me  hear.  Son  of  man,  thou  hast  flayed  the 
harlot  with  many  lovers ;  yet  return  again  to  me, 
saith  the  Lord— I  am  melted  and  subdued. 

On  a  Minister's  Familiar  Intercourse  with  his 
Hearers. 

What  passes,  on  these  occasions,  too  often 
savors  of  this  world.  We  become  one  among 
our  hearers.  They  come  to  church  on  Sun- 
day ;  and  we  preach ;  the  week  comes  round 
again,  and  its  nonsense  with  it.  Now  if  a 
minister  were  what  he  should  be,  the  people 
would  feel  it.     Thev  would  not  attempt  to  in- 


troduce this  silly,  diurnal  chat !  When  we 
countenance  this,  it  looks  as  though  "  On  the 
Sunday  I  am  ready  to  do  mv  business  ;  and,  in 
the  week,  you  may  do  yours."  This  lowers 
the  tone  of  what  I  say  on  the  Sabbath.  It 
forms  a  sad  comment  on  my  preaching. 
j  I  have  traced,  I  think,  some  of  the  evil  that 
lies  at  the  root  of  this.  W^e  are  more  con- 
cerned to  be  thought  gentlemen,  than  to  be 
I  felt  as  ministers.  Now,  being  desirous  to  be 
thought  a  man  who  has  kept  good  company, 
strikes  at  the  root  of  that  rough  work — the 
bringing  of  God  into  his  own  world.  It  is  hard 
and  rough  work  to  bring  God  into  his  own 
world.  To  talk  of  a  Creator,  and  Preserver, 
and  Redeemer,  is  an  outrage  on  the  feelings 
of  most  companies. 

There  is  important  truth  in  what  Mr.  Wesley 
said  to  his  preachers,  when  rightly  understood, 
however  it  may  have  been  ridiculed  : — "  You 
have  no  more  to  do  with  being  gentlemen, 
than  dancing  masters."  The  character  of  a 
minister  is  far  beyond  that  of  a  mere  gentle- 
man. It  takes  a  higher  walk.  He  will,  indeed, 
study  to  be  a  real  gentleman  :  he  will  be  the 
farthest  possible  from  a  rude  man  :  he  will  not 
disdain  to  learn  nor  to  practise  the  decencies 
of  society :  but  he  will  sustain  a  still  higher 
character. 

It  is  a  snare  to  a  minister,  when  in  company, 
to  be  drawn  out  to  converse  largely  on  the 
state  of  the  funds,  and  on  the  news  of  the  day. 
He  should  know  the  world,  and  what  is  doing 
in  the  world,  and  should  give  things  of  this 
nature  their  due  place  and  proportion ;  but  if 
he  can  be  drawn  out  to  give  twenty  opinions 
on  this  or  that  subject  oi'  politics  or  literature, 
he  is  lowered  in  his  tone.  A  man  of  sense 
feels  something  violent  in  the  transition  from 
SUCH  conversation  to  the  Bible  and  to  prayer. 

Dinner  visits  can  seldom  be  rendered  really 
profitable  to  the  mind.  The  company  are  so 
much  occupied,  that  little  good  is  to  be  done. 
A  minister  should  show  his  sense  of  the  value 
of  time :  it  is  a  sad  thing  when  those  around 
him  begin  to  yawn.  He  must  be  a  man  of 
business.  It  is  not  sufficiently  considered  how 
great  the  sin  of  idleness  is.  We  talk  in  the 
pulpit  of  the  value  of  time,  but  we  act  too  lit- 
tle on  what  we  say. 

Let  a  minister,  who  declines  associating 
much  with  his  hearers,  satisfy  himself  that  he 
has  a  good  reason  for  doing  so.  If  reproached 
for  not  visiting  them  so  much  as  they  wish, 
let  him  have  a  just  reason  to  assign.  A  man 
who  is  at  work  for  his  family,  may  have  as 
much  love  for  them  as  the  wife,  though  she  is 
always  with  them. 

I  fell  into  a  mistake,  when  a  young  man,  in 
thinking  that  I  could  talk  with  men  of  the  world 
on  their  own  ground,  and  could  thus  win  them 
over  to  mine.  I  was  fond  of  painting,  and  so 
talked  with  them  on  that  subject.  This  pleased 
them  :  but  I  did  not  consider  that  I  gave  a  con- 
sequence to  their  pursuits  whicli  does  not  be- 
long to  them  ;  whereas  I  ought  to  have  endea- 
vored to  raise  them  above  these,  that  they 
might  engage  in  higher.  I  did  not  see  this  a  I 
the  time  :  but  1  now  see  it  to  have  been  a  great 


REMAINS    OF   MR.   CECIL. 


33 


error.  A  wealthy  man  builds  a  fine  house,  and 
opens  to  himself  fine  prospects  :  he  wants  you 
to  see  them,  for  he  is  sick  of  them  himself. 
They  thus  draw  yon  into  their  schemes.  A 
man  has  got  ten  thousand  pounds :  you  con- 
gratulnte  liim  on  it,  and  that  without'any  inti- 
mation of  his  danger  or  his  responsibility. 
Now  you  may  tell  him  in  the  pulpit  that  riches 
are  nothing  worth  ;  but  you  will  tell  him  this 
in  vain,  while  you  tell  him  out  of  it  that  they 
are. 

Lord  Chesterfield  says,  a  man's  character  is 
degraded  when  he  is  to  be  had.  A  minister 
ought  never  to  pe  had. 

On  a  Minister  s  encouraging  Animadversion  on 
himself. 

It  is  a  serious  inquiry  for  a  minister,  how 

FAR  HE  SHOULD  ENCOURAGE  ANIMADVERSION  ON 

HiMSELr  IN  HIS  HEARERS.  Hc  Will  cncouHter 
many  ignorant  and  many  censorious  remarks, 
but  he  may  gain  much  on  the  whole. 

He  should  lay  down  to  himself  a  few  princi- 
ples. 

It  is  better  that  a  ininister  smart  than  mistake. 
It  is  better  that  a  traveller  meet  a  surly  imper- 
tinent fellow  to  direct  him  his  way,  than  lose 
his  way.  A  minister  is  so  important  in  his  office, 
that,  whatever  others  think  of  it,  he  should 
regard  this,  and  this  only,  as  the  transaction  for 
eternity.  But  a  man  may  be  laboring  in  the 
fire  :  he  may  be  turning  the  v.-orld  upside  down, 
and  yet  be  wrong.  You  say  he  must  read  his 
Bible.  True!  but  he  must  use  all  means.  He 
must  build  his  usefulness  on  this  principle — if 
by  anv  means.  If  the  wheel  hitches,  let  him, 
by  ANY  means,  discover  where  it  hitches.  This 
principle  is  to  be  worked  continually  in  his 
mind.  He  must  labor  to  keep  it  up  to  a  fine, 
keen  edge.  Let  him  never  believe  that  his 
view  of  himself  is  sufficient.  A  merchant 
sailing  in  quest  of  gain,  is  so  intent  on  his  ob- 
ject, that  he  will  take  a  hint  from  any  man.  If 
we  had  all  the  meaning  to  which  we  pretend 
in  our  pursuits,  we  should  feel  and  act  like 
him. 

A  minister  must  lay  it  down  also  as  a  prin- 
ciple, that  he  icill  never  sufficirnth/  understand 
his  oion  pride  and  self-love ;  and  that  confidence 
in  his  own  sense,  ivhich  cleaves  closely  to  ecery 
7nan.  He  must  consider  this  as  the  general 
malady.  Man  is  blind  and  obstinate — poor  and 
proud.  This  silly  creature,  through  ignorance 
of  this  principle,  will  not  only  not  hear  a  vul- 
gar hearer,  who  animadverts  on  him ;  but  he 
will  scarcely  listen  to  a  superior  man  among 
his  hearers.  He  attends  to  such  a  one,  because 
it  would  be  indecent  not  to  attend.  But  lie 
finds  some  excuse  for  himself  in  his  own  bo- 
som. He  reverences  what  is  said  very  little, 
if  at  all.  He  strokes  and  flatters  himself,  and 
makes  up  the  aff"air  very  well  in  his  own  mind. 

A  minister  should  consider  how  much  more 
easily  a  iceak  man  can  read  a  wise  man,  than  a 
wise  man  can  read  himself:  and  that  for  this 
reason — no  man  can  see  and  hear  himself.  He 
is  too  much  formed  in  his  own  habits — his 
family  notions — his  closet  notions— to  detect 


himself.  He,  who  stands  by  and  sees  a  game 
played,  has  vast  advantages  over  the  players. 
Besides,  preachers  err  systematically — learn- 
edly— scientifically.  The  simple  hearer  has 
an  appeal  to  nature  in  his  heart.  He  can  often 
feel  that  his  minister  is  wrong,  when  he  is  not 
I  able  to  set  him  right.  Dr.  Manton,  no  doubt, 
thought  he  had  preached  well,  and  as  became 
him,  before  the  Lord  Mayor;  but  he  felt  him- 
self reproved  and  instructed,  when  a  poor  man 
pulled  him  by  the  sleeve,  and  told  him  he  had 
understood  nothing  of  his  sermon;  there  was 
an  appeal  in  this  poor  man's  breast  to  nature  : 
nature  cnuld  not  make  any  thing  of  the  Doc- 
tor's learning.  When  ApcUcs  took  his  stand 
behind  his  picture,  he  was  a  wise  man :  and 
he  was  a  wise  man  too,  when  he  altered  the 
shoe  on  the  hint  of  the  cobbler :  the  cobbler, 
in  his  place,  was  to  be  heard. 

A  minister  should  consider,  too,  that  few 
will  venture  to  speak  to  a  public  man.  It  is  a  rare 
thing  to  hear  a  man  say — "  Upon  my  word 
that  thing,  or  your  general  manner,  is  defective 
or  improper."  If  a  wise  man  says  this,  he 
shows  a  regard,  which  the  united  stock  of  five 
hundred  flatterers  will  not  equal.  I  would  set 
down  half  the  blunders  of  ministers  to  their 
not  listening  to  animadversion.  I  have  heard 
it  said — for  the  men,  who  would  animadvert 
on  us,  talk  among  themselves,  if  we  refuse  to 

let  them  talk  to  us 1  have  heard  it  said, 

"  Why  don't  you  talk  to  himV — "  Why  don't 
you  talk  to  him!  because  he  will  not  hear!" 

Let  him  consider,  moreover,  that  this  aver- 
sion from  reproof  is  not  wise.  This  is  a  symptom 
of  the  disease.  Why  should  he  want  this 
hushing  up  of  the  disorder]  This  is  a  mark  of 
a  little  mind.  A  great  man  can  afi'ord  to  lose : 
a  little  insignificant  fellow  is  afraid  of  being 
snuff'ed  out. 

A  minister  mistakes  who  should  refuse  to 
read  any  anonymous  letters.  He  may,  per- 
haps, see  nothing  in  them  the  first  time  ;  but, 
let  him  read  them  again  and  again.  The  writer 
raises  his  superstructure,  probably,  on  a  slight 
basis;  yet  there  is  generally  some  sort  of  occa- 
sion. "If  he  points  out  but  a  small  error,  yet 
THAT  is  worth  detecting. 

In  the  present  habits  of  men,  it  is  so  diffi- 
cult to  get  them  to  tell  the  naked  truth,  that  a 
minister  should  show  a  disposition  to  be  cor- 
rected :  he  should  show  himself  to  be  sensible 
of  the  want  of  it.  He  is  not  to  encourage  idle 
people  :  that  could  be  productive  of  no  pos- 
sible good. 

These  are  some  of  the  reasons  for  a  minis- 
ter's encouragement,  in  a  judicious  manner,  of 
animadversion  on  himself  in  his  hearers. 

Sometimes,  however,  a  man  will  come  who 
appears  to  be  an  impertinent  man,  independ- 
ently of  what  he  has  to  remark— a  man  who 
is  evidently  disposed  to  be  troublesome. 
Such  a  man  came  to  me  with—"  Sir,  you  said 
such  a  thing  that  seemed  to  lean  to  tlie  doctrine 
of  universal  redemption.  Pray.  Sir,  may  1 
speak  a  little  with  you  on  that  subject !"  The 
manner  of  the  man  at  once  marked  his  charac- 
ter. He  seemed  to  bring  with  him  this  kind 
of  sentiment—"  I'll  go  and  set  that  man  right. 


34 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL 


I'll  call  that  man  to  account."  It  was  a  sort 
of  democratic  insolence  of  mind  Instead  of 
answering  him  as  he  expected,  I  treated  him 
as  a  child.  I  turned  it  into  an  occasion  of 
preaching  a  sermon  to  him  :-"  Sir,  do  you 
come  to  instruct  me,  or  to  be  instructed  ^  Be- 
fore we  enter  on  a  question  which  has  exer- 
cised the  greatest  men,  we  want  a  prepared- 
ness of  mind:  we  want  a  deep  huniihty-a 
teachableness  — a  spirit  of  dependance  — ol 
which  you  seem  to  me  to  have  but  little. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  man  may  come,  quite 
as  ignorant  as  the  other,  vet  a  simple  charac- 
ter 1  have  distressed  him.  Though  he  can- 
not, perhaps,  be  made  to  understand  what  he 
inquires  about— vet  a  minister  should  say  to 
himself,  "Have  I  puzzled  him  ]  He  is  wound- 
ed, and  he  comes  for  help."  . 

A  minister  should  remember  that  he  is  not 
always  to  act  and  speak  authoritatively.  He 
sits  on  his  friend's  chair,  and  his  friend  says 
his  things  to  him  with  frankness.  They  may 
want  perhaps  a  little  decorum  ;  but  he  should 
receive  them  in  the  most  friendly  and  good- 
humored  way  in  the  world.  A  thing  strikes 
this  man  and  that  man  :  he  may  depend  on  it, 
that  it  has  some  foundation. 

But  there  are  persons,  whom  a  minister 
should  more  than  encourage  to  animadvert  on 
him  He  should  employ  them.  He  should 
explain  himself  to  them.  He  does  not  merely 
want  an  account  of  his  sermon,  but  he  em- 
ploys them  on  business.  To  such  sensible 
persons,  he  will  say— "What  serious  judgment 
do  you  form  of  my  preaching  1  Do  tell  me 
what  sort  of  a  man  I  am." 

A  minister  has  to  treat  with  another  sort 
of  hearers— uncandid  men,  and  yet  men  of 
capacity :  a  sort   of  men,  who   are  not  now 
pleased,  and  then  displeased.    They  spy  a  blot 
every  where.    He  is  likely  to  make  a  mistake 
with  regard  to  such  men  :— "  What  signifies 
the  opinion  of  that  man^     That  man  can  ne- 
ver be  pleased."    Tme  !  that  man  cannot  be 
pleased  ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that  he  tells 
you  no  truth.    In  treating  with  such  a  man  he 
should  say— His  edge  may  be  too  keen  for 
candor  and   sound  judgment ;  yet,  if  it  lays 
open  to  me  what  I  could  not  otherwise  see,  let 
me  improve  by  its  keenness.    What  hurt  can 
he  do  to  me  ?  He  may  damp  or  irritate  others, 
by  talking  thus  to  them  :  but  let  me  learn  what 
is  to  be  learnt  from  him."    Such  a  man  lifts  a 
minister  from  his  standing,  where  he  settles 
down  too  easily  and  firmly.    If  I  know  a  man 
to  be  of  this  class,  I  will  distinguish  :    "  This 
is  the  man  :  but  that  is  myself ! "    If  I  would 
write  a  book  to  stand  the  fire,  let  me  find  out 
the  severest  censor.    My  friend  is  but  half  the 
man :  there  is  a  consentaneousness  of  senti- 
ment between  us  :  we  have  fallen  in  together, 
till  we  scarcely  know  how  to  differ  from  each 
other.     Let  the  man  come  who  says — "  Here 
I  can  discover  you  to  yourself ;  and  there  ! " 
Th(!   best  hints  arc   obtained   from    snarling 
people.    Medicaments  make  the  patient  smart, 
i)ut  they  heal. 

Yet  a  minister  must  not  take  this  in  the 
gross.     He  is  not  to  invite  nide  men  round  his  I 


door.  If  he  suffer  his  hearers  to  treat  him 
irreverently,  if  he  allow  them  to  dispute  with 
him  on  every  occasion,  he  will  bring  rum  on  the 
Church.  The  priest's  lips  must  keep  knowledge. 
If  a  parent  allow  his  children  to  question  every 
thing,  so  that  nothing  is  to  be  settled  without 
a  hundred  proofs,  they  will  soon  despise  their 
teacher,  for  they  will'think  themselves  able  to 
teach  him.  The  minister  must  have  decided 
superiority  and  authority,  or  he  will  want  one 
of  the  principal  qualities  of  his  ministry.  This 
is  not  inconsistent  with  receiving  hints.  He 
may  mistake  in  some  things :  but  he  should 
mark  the  complexion  of  his  congregation  m 
deciding  how  far  they  are  to  be  heard  on  his 
mistakes.  If  the  people  are  heady,  forward, 
confident  in  their  own  sense,  they  are  never 
to  be  encouraged.     They  are  gone  too  far. 


On  the  Limits  which  a  Minister  should  put  to  the 
indulgence  of  his  curiosity  ivith  regard  to  Pub- 
lic Exhibitions. 

An  extreme  is  to  be  avoided.  Some  persons 
would  condemn  even  rational  curiosity.  But 
the  works  of  the  Lord  are  great :  sought  out  of 
all  them  that  have  pleasure  therein.  I  would  not 
object,  therefore,  to  visit  the  museum  ;  or  to 
go  to  see  the  rare  natural  productions  often 
exhibited.  I  would  enlarge,  too,  my  views  of 
man  and  the  world  by  frequenting  the  pano- 
ramas of  cities.  And,  though  I  would  not  run 
after  every  sight,  yet  I  would  use  my  liberty 
in  selecting.  But  some  are  in  an  opposite  ex- 
treme. They  are  found  every  where.  But  he, 
who  sustains  a  character  of  a  scribe  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  ought  not  to  be  found  every 
where.  The  man,  who  is  seeking  a  heavenly 
country,  will  show  the  spirit  of  one  whose 
conversation  is  there. 

There  is  something  in  religion,  when  rightly 
apprehended,  that  is  masculine  and  grand.  It 
removes  those  little  desires,  which  are  "  the 
constant  hectic  of  a  fool." 

Every  thing  of  the  drama,  and  whatever  is 
so  distinctly  the  course  of  this  xvorld,  must  be 
shunned.  If  a  minister  take  one  step  into  the 
world,  his  hearers  will  take  two.  Much  may 
be  learnt  from  the  sentiments  of  men  of  the 
world.  If  a  man  of  this  character  who  heard 
me  preach,  should  meet  me  where  he  would 
say,  "  Why,  I  did  not  expect  to  see  you 
here  !  "—then  he  ought  not  to  have  seen  me 
there. 

There  must  be  measure  and  proportion  in 
our  attention  to  arts  and  sciences.  These 
were  the  very  idols  of  the  heathen  world  :  and 
what  are  thky,  who  now  follow  them  with  an 
idolatrous  eagerness,  but  like  children,  who 
are  cliarmed  with  the  sparkling  of  a  rocket, 
and  yet  see  nothing  in  the  sun  1 

Yet  I  would  not  indulge  a  cynical  temper. 
If  I  go  through  a  gentleman's  gallery  of  pic- 
tures, I  would  say,  "  This  is  an  admirable 
Claude  ! "  but  I  would  take  occasion  to  drop 
a  hint  of  something  higher  and  better,  and  to 
make  it  felt  that  I  fell  in  with  these  things  ra 
ther  incidentally  than  purposely.  But  all  this 
must  be  done  with  tenderness  and  humility 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL 


35 


"  I  tread  on  the  pride  of  Plato,"  said  Diogenes,  [ 
as  he  walked  over  Plato's  carpet :  "  Yes — and  : 
with  more  pride,"'  said  Plato.  | 

''They  pass  best  over  the  world,"  said  Queen  | 
Elizabeth,  "  who  trip  over  it  quickly  :  lor  it  is  ' 
but  a  bog.     If  we  stop,  we  sink."  | 

I  would  not  make  it  my  criterion — "  Christ  \ 
would  not  come  hither  1 "'  /must  take  a  lower 
standard  in  these  things.  /  am  a  poor  crea- 
ture, and  must  be  contented  to  learn  in  many 
places  and  by  many  scenes,  which  Christ  need 
not  to  have  frequented. 

On  the  Means  of  promoting  a  Spirit  of  Devotion 
in  Congregations. 

Let  us  ask,  "  What  is  man  1 "  He  is  a 
creature  of  feeling,  as  well  as  of  intellect.  We 
must  interest  him  as  we  can.  It  is  unphiloso- 
phical  to  depend  on  the  mere  statement  of 
truth.  No  doubt  there  is  a  contrary  error  : 
for  what  is  the  end  of  exciting  attention,  if 
there  is  nothing  deserving  attention  ? 

It  is  of  the  first  importance  to  put  meaning 
into  every  part  of  the  service.  In  either  ex- 
treme, of  appealing  to  the  understanding  or 
the  feelings,  there  may  be  no  meaning  :  in  a 
dull  and  lifeless  preacher,  there  is  no  mean- 
ing ;  and  in  one  of  a  contrary  character,  there 
maybe  nothing  worthy  of  the  name. 

There  is,  besides,  too  little  attention,  in 
many  churches,  to  man,  as  man.  I  would  con- 
sult his  convenience  in  all  lawful  points.  If 
he  could  sit  easier  on  cushions,  he  should  have 
cushions.  I  would  not  tell  him  to  be  warm  in 
God's  service,  while  I  leave  him  to  shiver  with 
cold.  No  doors  should  creak :  no  windows 
should  rattle. 

Music  has  an  important  effect  on  devotion. 
Wherever  fantastical  music  enters,  it  betrays 
a  corrupt  principle.  A  congregation  cannot 
enter  into  it ;  or,  if  it  does,  it  cannot  be  a 
Christian  congregation.  Wherever  there  is  an 
attempt  to  set  off  the  music  in  the  service, 
and  the  attempt  is  apparent,  it  is  the  first  step 
toward  carnality.  Though  there  is  too  little 
life  in  the  style  of  music  adopted  among  the 
Moravians,  yet  the  simplicity  of  Christianity 
pervades  their  devotion. 

Order  is  important.  Some  persons,  by  com- 
ing in  when  they  please,  propagate  a  loose 
habit  of  mind.  For  man  is  a  sympathetic 
creature  ;  and  what  he  sees  others  neglect,  he 
is  in  danger  of  growing  negligent  in  himself. 
If  the  reader  goes  through  the  service  as 
though  the  great  business  for  which  they  are 
assembled  is  not  yet  begun,  the  people  will 
soon  feel  thus  themselves. 

The  minister  should  take  occasion  frequently 
to  impress  on  the  people  the  importance  ok  the 
WORK  in  Avhich  they  are  engaged.  It  is  not 
enough  to  take  it  for  granted  that  they  feel 
this.  We  must  take  nothing  for  granted.  Man 
needs  to  be  reminded  of  every  thing,  for  he 
soon  forgets  every  thing. 

Monotony  must  be,  above  all  things,  avoided. 
The  mind  is  vagrant :  monotony  cannot  recall 
it.  There  may  be  continued  vehemence,  while 
tlic  attention  is  not  excited ;  it  is  disturbance 


and  noise  :  there  is  nothing  to  lead  the  mind 
into  a  useful  train  of  thought  or  feeling. 

There  is  an  opposite  error  to  vehemence. 
Men  of  sense  and  literature  depress  devotion 
by  treating  things  abstractedly.  SimpUcity, 
with  good  sense,  is  of  unspeakable  value.  Re- 
ligion must  not  be  rendered  abstract  and  curious 
If  a  curious  remark  presents  itself,  reserve  i: 
for  another  place.  The  hearer  gets  away  from 
the  bustle  and  business  of  the  week  :  he  comes 
trembling  under  his  fears  :  he  would  mount 
upward  in  his  spirit :  but  a  curious  etymolo- 
gical disquisition  chills  and  repels  him. 

In  truth,  we  should  be  men  of  business  in 
our  congregations.  We  should  endeavor  both 
to  excite  and  instruct  our  hearers.  We  should 
render  the  service  an  interesting  affair  in  all 
its  parts.  We  should  rouse  men  :  we  should 
hind  up  the  broken-hearted :  we  should  comfort 
the  feeble-minded :  we  should  support  the  weak: 
we  should  become  all  things  to  all  men,  if  by  am/ 
means  ice  may  save  some. 

I  On  the  Marriage  of  Christian  Ministers. 

It  seems  to  me,  that  many  men  do  not  give 
sufficient  weight  to  our  Lord's  observations 
upon  those  who  wi«(/e  themselves  eunuchs  for  the 
kingdom  of  heaven'' s  sake,  nor  to  St.  Paul's  rea- 
soning on  the  subject  of  marriage.  1  would 
only  imply,  that  both  our  Lord  and  the  apostle 
seem  to  establish  it  as  a  principle,  that  a  single 
state,  when  it  can  be  chosen  and  is  chosen  for 
the  sake  of  the  gospel,  is  the  superior  state. 
This,  I  fear,  is  too  much  forgotten  ;  and  those 
men,  who  might  have  received  the  saying,  and 
have  done  more  service  to  the  church  of  God 
by  receiving  it,  have  given  it  little  or  no 
weight  in  their  deliberations. 

And  yet  it  ought  to  be  considered,  that  the 
very  character  which  would  best  fit  men  for 
living  in  a  single  state,  would  abstract  them 
too  much  from  the  feelings  and  wants  of  their 
people.  I  am  fully  sensible  that  I  should  have 
been  hardened  against  the  distresses  of  my 
hearers,  if  I  had  not  been  reduced  from  my 
natural  stoicism  by  domestic  sufferings 

The  cases,  I  allow,  are  extremely  few,  in 
which  a  man  may  do,  on  the  whole,  more  ser- 
vice to  the  church,  by  imitating  St.  Paul,  than 
by  marrying :  yet  there  are  such  cases  ;  and  it 
behooves  every  minister  seriously  to  consider 
himself  and  his' situation,  before  he  determines 
on  marriage.  He  should  not  regard  this  state 
as  indispensably  necessary  to  him,  but  should 
always  remember,  that,  ccrtms  paribus,  he 
who  remains  single  is  most  wortliy  of  honor. 

But,  when  it  is  proper  that  a  minister  should 
marry,  and  he  has  determined  to  do  it,  how 
few  select  such  women  as  suit  their  high  am! 
holy  character!  A  minister  is  like  a  ni;ni 
who  has  undertaken  to  traverse  the  world. 
He  has  not  only  fair  and  pleasant  ground  to 
travel  over,  but  lie  must  encounter  deserts  and 
marshes  and  mountains.  The  traveller  wants 
a  firm  and  steady  stay.  His  wife  siiould  be, 
above  all  things,  a  woman  of  faith  and  prayer— 
a  woman,  too,  of  a  sound  mind  and  of  a  tender 
heart— and  one  who  will  accotint  it  her  glory 


36 

to  lay  herself  out  in  co-operating  with  her 
husband,  by  meeting  his  wants  and  soothing 
his  cares.  She  should  be  liis  unfaihng  re- 
source, so  far  as  he  ought  to  seek  this  in  the 
creature.  Blessed  is  she,  who  is  thus  qualified 
and  thus  lives ! 

But,  after  all,  the  married  minister,  if  he 
would  hve  devotedly,  must  move  in  a  deter- 
mined sphere.  Whatever  his  wife  may  be, 
yet  she  is  a  woman — and  if  things  are  to  go 
on  well,  they  nmst  have  two  separate  worlds. 
There  may,  indeed,  be  cases,  when  a  man  with 
something  of  a  soft  and  feminine  cast  about 
his  mind,  may  be  united  to  a  woman  of  a  mind 
so  superior  and  cultivated,  that  he  may  choose 
to  make  it  his  plan  that  they  shall  move  in  the 
same  world.  In  such  rare  cases,  it  may  be 
done  with  less  inconvenience  than  in  any 
other.  But,  even  here,  the  highest  end  is  sa- 
crificed to  feeling.  Every  man,  whatever  be 
his  natural  disposition,  who  would  urge  his 
powers  to  the  highest  end,  must  be  a  man  of 
solitary  studies.  Some  uxorious  men  of  con- 
siderable minds  have  moved  so  much  in  the 
women's  world,  that  reflection,  disquisition, 
and  the  energies  of  thought,  have  been  ruined 
by  the  habit  of  indulging  the  lighter,  softer, 
and  more  playful  qualities.  Such  a  man  is, 
indeed,  the  idol  of  the  female  world ;  but  he 
would  rather  deserve  to  be  so,  if  he  stood  upon 
his  own  ground  while  he  attem.pted  to  meet 
their  wants,  instead  of  descending  to  mingle 
among  them. 

God  has  put  a  difference  between  the  sexes, 
but  education  and  manners  have  put  a  still 
greater.  They  are  designed  to  move  in  sepa- 
rate spheres,  but  occasionally  to  unite  toge- 
ther, in  order  to  soften  and  relieve  each  other. 
To  attempt  any  subversion  of  God's  design 
herein,  is  being  wiser  than  He  who  made  us  ; 
and  who  has  so  established  this  affair  that  each 
sex  has  its  separate  and  appropinate  excel- 
lence— only  to  be  attained  by  pursuing  it  in 
the  order  of  nature.  Thought  is,  or  ought  to 
be,  the  characterizing  feature  of  the  man,  and 
feeling  that  of  the  woman. 

Every  man  and  woman  in  the  world  has  an 
appropriate  mind  ;  and  that  in  proportion  to 
their  strength  of  thought  and  feeling.  p]ach 
has  a  way  of  their  own — a  habit — a  system — 
a  world — separated  and  solitary,  in  which  no 
person  on  earth  can  have  communion  with 
them.  Job  says  of  God,  He  knoweth  the  way 
that  I  take;  and,  when  the  Christian  finds  a 
want  of  competency  in  his  bosom-friend  to  un- 
derstand and  meet  his  way,  he  turns  with  an 
especial  nearness  and  familiarity  of  confidence 
to  God,  who  knoweth  it  in  all  its  connexions 
and  associations,  its  peculiarities  and  its  im- 
perfections. 

I  may  be  thought  to  speak  harshly  of  the 
female  character  ;  but  whatever  persuasion  I 
have  of  its  intended  distinction  from  that  of 
man,  1  esteem  a  woman,  who  aims  only  to  be 
what  God  designed  her  to  be,  as  honorable  as 
any  man  on  earth.  She  stands  not  in  the  same 
order  of  excellence,  but  she  is  equally  hon- 
orable. 

But  women  have  made  themselves,  and  weak 


REMAINS    OF   MR.  CECIL, 


men  have  contributed  to  make  them,  what  God 
never  designed  them  to  be.  Let  any  thinking 
man  survey  the  female  character  as  it  now 
stands — often  nervous,  debilitated,  and  ima- 
ginative, and  this  superinduced  chiefly  by 
education  and  manners — and  he  will  find  it 
impossible  that  any  great  vigor  of  mind  can 
be  preserved,  or  any  high  intellectual  pursuits 
cultivated,  so  far  as  this  character  stands  in 
his  way. 

"  Doing  as  others  do,"  is  the  prevalent  prin- 
ciple of  the  present  female  character,  to  what- 
ever absurd,  preposterous,  masculine,  or  even 
wicked  lengths  it  may  lead.  This  is,  so  far  as 
it  avails  witli  man  or  woman,  the  ruin,  death, 
and  grave  of  all  that  is  noble,  and  virtuous,  and 
praiseworthy. 

A  studious  man,  whose  time  is  chiefly  spent 
at  home,  and  especially  a  minister,  ought  not 
to  have  to  meet  the  imaginary  wants  of  his 
wife.  The  disorders  of  an  imaginative  mind 
are  beyond  calculation.  He  is  not  worthy  the 
name  of  a  husband,  who  will  not  with  delight 
nurse  his  wife,  with  all  possible  tenderness  and 
love,  through  a  real  visitation,  however  long; 
but  he  is  ruined,  if  he  falls  upon  a  woman  of 
a  sickly  fancy.  It  is  scarcely  to  be  calculated 
what  an  influence  the  spirit  of  his  wife  will 
have  on  his  own,  and  on  all  his  ministerial 
affairs.  If  she  comes  not  up  to  the  full  stand- 
ard, she  will  so  far  impede  him,  derange  him, 
unsanctify  him. 

If  there  is  such  a  thing  as  good  in  this 
world,  it  is  in  the  ministerial  office.  The 
affairs  of  this  employment  are  the  greatest  in 
the  world.  In  prosecuting  these  with  a  right 
spirit,  the  minister  keeps  in  motion  a  vast  ma- 
chine ;  and,  such  are  the  incalculable  conse- 
quences of  his  wife's  character  to  him,  that, 
if  she  assist  him  not  in  urging  forward  the 
machine,  she  will  hang  as  a  dead  weight  upon 
its  wheels. 

A  woman  may  have  a  high  taste  :  her  natu- 
ral temper  may  be  peevish  and  fretful :  she 
may  have  a  delicate  and  fastidious  mind  :  she 
may  long  for  every  thing  she  sees.  It  is  not 
enough  that  she  is,  in  reality,  a  pious  woman. 
Her  taste,  her  mind,  her  manners,  must  have 
a  decorum  and  congruity  to  her  husband's 
office  and  situation.  She  must  bear  to  be 
crossed  in  her  wishes  for  unsuitable  objects  : 
he  will  say,  with  firmness,  "  This  shall  not  be. 
It  is  not  enough  that  it  would  gratify  you  :  it 
is  wrong.  It  is  not  enough  that  it  is  not  fla- 
grantly sinful :  it  is  improper,  unsuitable  to 
our  character  and  station.*  It  is  not  enough 
that  money  will  buy  it,  and  I  have  got  money; 
it  would  be  a  culpable  use  of  our  talent.  It  is 
not  enough  that  your  friend  possesses  such  a 
thing :  we  stand  and  fall  to  our  own  Master." 

On  Visiting  Death-beds. 

I  HAVE  found  it,  in  many  cases,  a  difficult 
thing  to  deal  with  a  Death-bed.  We  are  called 
in  to  death-beds  of  various  kinds : — 

The  true  pilgrim  sends  for  us  to  set  before 


Nee,  tibi  quid  liccal,  sed  quid  fecisse  decebit, 
Occurrat.  Claudian.—J.  P. 


REMAINS    OF   MR.  CECIL. 


37 


him  the  food  on  which  he  has  fed  throughout 
his  journey.  He  has  a  keen  appetite.  He 
wants  strength  and  vigor  for  the  last  effort ; 
and,  then,  all  is  for  ever  well !  He  is  gone 
home,  and  is  at  rest ! 

Another  man  sends  for  us  because  it  is  de- 
cent ;  or  his  friends  importune  him ;  or  liis 
conscience  is  alarmed :  but  he  is  ignorant  of 
sin  and  of  salvation  :  he  is  either  indifferent 
about  both,  or  he  has  made  up  his  mind  in  his 
own  way  :  he  wants  the  minister  to  confirm 
him  in  his  own  views,  and  smooth  over  the 
wound.  I  have  seen  such  men  mad  with  rage, 
while  I  have  been  beating  down  their  refuges 
of  lies,  and  setting  forth  to  them  God's  refuge. 
There  is  a  wise  and  holy  medium  to  be  ob- 
served in  treating  such  cases ; — "  I  am  not 
come  to  daub  you  over  with  untempercd  mor/ar  : 
I  am  not  come  to  send  you  to  the  bar  of  God 
with  a  lie  in  your  right-hand.  But  neither 
am  I  come  to  mortify  you,  to  put  you  to  un- 
necessary pain,  to  imbitter  you,  or  to  exaspe- 
rate you."  There  is  a  kindness,  affection, 
tenderness,  meekness,  and  patience,  which  a 
man's  feelings  and  conscience  will  condemn 
him  while  he  opposes  !  I  have  found  it  a  very 
effectual  method  to  begin  with  myself :  it 
awakens  attention,  conciliates  the  mind,  and  in- 
sinuates conviction : — "  Whatever  others  think 
of  themselves,  I  stand  condemned  before  God : 
my  heart  is  so  desperately  wicked,  that,  if  God 
had  not  showed  me  in  his  word  a  remedy  ia 
Jesus  Christ,  I  should  be  in  despair :  I  can  only 
tell  you  what  I  am,  and  what  I  have  found. 
If  you  believe  yourselves  to  be  what  God  has 
told  me  I  am  and  all  men  are,  then  I  can  tell 
you  where  and  how  to  find  mercy  and  eternal 
life  :  if  you  will  not  believe  that  you  are  this 
sort  of  man,  I  have  nothing  to  offer  you.  I 
know  of  nothing  else  for  man  beside  that 
which  God  has  showed  me."  My  descriptions 
of  my  own  fallen  nature  have  excited  perfect 
astonishment :  sometimes  my  penitents  have 
seemed  scarcely  able  to  credit  me,  but  I  have 
found  that  God  has  fastened,  by  this  means, 
conviction  on  the  conscience.  In  some  cases, 
an  indirect  method  of  addressing  the  con- 
science may  apparently  be,  in  truth,  the  most 
direct;  but  we  are  to  use  this  method  wisely 
and  sparingly.  It  seems  to  me  to  be  one  of 
the  characteristics  of  the  day,  in  the  religious 
world,  to  err  on  this  subject.  We  have  found 
out  a  CIRCUITOUS  way  of  exhibiting  truth.  The 
plain,  direct,  simple  exhibition  of  it,  is  often 
•abandoned,  even  where  no  circumstances  jus- 
tify and  require  a  more  insinuating  manner. 
There  is  dexterit)^  indeed,  and  address  in 
this;  but  too  little  of  the  simple  declaration 
of  the  testimony  of  God,  which  St.  Paul  op- 
poses to  excellency  of  speech  or  of  wisdom,  and 
to  enticing  loords  of  man's  wisdom.  We  have 
<lone  very  little  when  we  have  merely  per- 
suaded men  to  think  as  we  do. 

But  we  have  to  deal  with  a  worse  death-bed 
character,  than  with  the  man  who  opposes  the 
truth.  Some  men  assent  to  every  thing  which 
we  propose.  They  will  even  anticipate  us. 
And  yet  we  see  tliat  they  mean  nothing.  I 
have  often  felt,  when  with  such  persons :  "  I 
lOG  25 


would  they  could  be  brought  to  contradict  and 
oppose  !  That  would  lead  to  discussion.  God 
might,  peradventure,  dash  the  stony  heart  in 
pieces.  But  this  heart  is  like  water.  The 
impression  dies  as  fast  as  it  is  made."  I  have 
sought  for  such  views  as  might  rouse  and  stir 
up  opposition.  I  have  tried  to  irritate  the  tor- 
pid mind.  But  all  in  vain.  I  once  visited  a 
young  clergyman  of  this  character,  who  was 
seized  with  a  dangerous  illness  at  a  coffee- 
house in  town,  whither  some  business  had 
brought  him:  the  first  time  I  saw  him,  we 
conversed  very  closely  together ;  and,  in  the 
prospect  of  death,  he  seemed  solicitous  to  pre- 
pare for  it.  But  I  could  make  no  sort  of  im- 
pression upon  him:  all  I  could  possibly  say 
met  his  entire  approbation,  though  I  saw  his 
heart  felt  no  interest  in  it.  When  I  visited  him 
a  second  time,  the  fear  of  death  was  gone: 
and,  with  it,  all  solicitude  about  religion.  He 
was  still  civil  and  grateful,  but  he  tried  to 
parry  off  the  business  on  which  he  knew  I 
came.  "  I  will  show  you.  Sir,  some  little 
things  with  which  1  have  worn  away  the  hours 
of  my  confinement  and  solitude."  He  brought 
out  a  quantity  of  pretty  and  tasty  drawings.  I 
was  at  a  loss  how  to  express,  with  suitable 
force  and  delicacy,  the  high  sense  I  felt  of  his 
indecorum  and  insipidity,  and  to  leave  a  deep 
impression  on  his  conscience. — I  rose,  how- 
ever, instantly— said  my  time  was  expired — 
wished  him  well,  and  withdrew. 

Sometimes  we  have  a  painful  part  to  act 
with  sincere  men,  who  would  have  been  car- 
ried too  much  into  the  world.  I  was  called  in 
to  visit  such  a  man.  "  I  find  no  comfort,"  he 
said.  "  God  veils  his  face  from  me.  Every 
thing  round  me  is  dark  and  uncertain."  I  did 
not  dare  to  act  the  flatterer.  I  said — "  Let  us 
look  faithfully  into  the  state  of  things.  I  should 
have  been  surprised  if  you  had  not  felt  thus. 
I  believe  you  to  be  sincere.  Your  state  of 
feelings  evinces  your  sincerity.  Had  I  found 
you  exulting  in  God,  I  should  have  concluded 
that  you  were  either  deceived  or  a  deceiver ; 
for,  while  God  acts  in  his  usual  order,  how 
could  you  expect  to  feel  otherwise  on  the  ap- 
proach of  death,  than  you  do  feel  ?  You ha\e 
driven  hard  after  the  world.  Your  spirit  has 
been  absorbed  in  its  cares.  Your  sentiment — 
your  conversation  have  been  in  the  spirit  of 
tlie  world.  And  have  you  any  reason  to  ex- 
pect the  response  of  conscience  and  the  clear 
evidence  which  await  the  man  who  has  walk- 
ed and  lived  in  the  close  friendship  with  God! 
You  know  that  what  I  say  is  true."  His  wife 
interrupted  me,  by  assuring  me  that  he  had 
been  an  excellent  man.  "Silence!"  said  the 
dying  penitent,  "  it  is  all  true !" 

Soon  after  I  came  to  St.  John's  I  was  called 
on  to  visit  a  dying  lady,  whom  I  saw  many 
times  before  her  death.  I  found  that  she  had 
taken  God  for  her  portion  and  rest.  She  ap- 
proached him  with  the  penitence  of  a  sinner 
grateful  for  his  provision  of  mer-jy  in  Christ. 
She  told  me  she  had  found  religion  in  her  Com- 
mon Prayer  Book.  She  blessed  God  that  she 
had  "always  been  kept  steady  to  her  church; 
and  that  she  had  never  followed  the  people 


REMAINS    O  F    M  H.    (J  E  C  I 


called  Methodists,  who  were  seducing  so  many 
on  all  sides."  I  thought  it  would  be  unadvis- 
able  to  attempt  the  removal  of  prejudices, 
which,  in  her  dying  case,  were  harmless,  and 
which  would  soon  be  removed  by  the  light 
which  would  beam  in  on  her  glorified  soul. 
We  had  more  interesting  subjects  of  conver- 
sation, from  which  this  would  have  led  us 
away.  Some  persons  may  tax  her  with  a  want 
of  charity:  but,  alas!  I  fear  they  are  persons, 
who,  knowing  more  than  she  did  of  the  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel,  have  so  little  of  its  divine 
charity  in  their  hearts,  tliat,  as  they  cannot 
allow  for  her  prejudices,  neither  would  they 
have  been  the  last  to  stigmatize  her  as  a  dead 
formalist  and  a  pharisee.  God  knoweththem 
that  are  his ;  and  they  are  often  seen  by  him, 
where  we  see  them  not.  Were  a  benighted 
inhabitant  of  Otaheite  to  feel  the  wretched- 
ness of  his  present  life,  and  lift  up  his  soul  to 
the  God  he  worshipped  as  a  Supreme  Being 
for  happiness,  no  doubt  God  would  hear  such 
a  prayer. 

Miscellaneous  Remarks  on  the  Christian  Ministiy. 

Every  book  really  worth  a  minister's  study- 
ing, he  ought,  if  possible,  to  have  in  his  own 
library.  I  have  used  large  libraries,  but  I  soon 
left  them.  Time  was  frittered  away:  my  mind  j 
was  unconcentrated.  Besides,  the  habit  which  j 
it  begets  of  turning  over  a  multitude  of  books 
is  a  pernicious  habit.  And  the  usual  contents 
of  such  libraries  are  injurious  to  a  spiritual 
man,  whose  business  it  is  to  transact  with 
men's  minds.  They  have  a  dry,  cold,  deaden- 
ing effect.  It  may  suit  dead  men  to  walk 
among  the  dead ;  but  send  not  a  living  man  to 
be  chilled  among  the  ruins  of  Tadmor  in  the 
wilderness  I 

Christianity  is  so  great  and  surprising  in  its 
nature,  that,  in  preaching  it  to  others,  I  have 
no  encouragement  but  the  belief  of  a  con- 
tinued divine  operation.  It  is  no  difficult  tiling 
to  change  a  man's  opinions.  It  is  no  difficult 
thing  to  attach  a  man  to  my  person  and  notions. 
It  is  no  difficult  thing  to  convert  a  proud  man 
to  spiritual  pride,  or  a  passionate  man  to  pas- 
sionate zeal  for  some  religious  party.  But,  to 
bring  a  man  to  love  God — to  love  the  law  of 
God,  while  it  condemns  him — to  loath  himself 
before  God — to  tread  the  earth  under  his  feet 
— to  hunger  and  thirst  after  God  in  Christ,  and 
after  the  mind  that  vv^as  in  Christ— with  man 
this  is  impossible  !  But  God  has  said  it  shall 
be  done :  and  bids  me  go  forth  and  preach,  that 
by  me,  as  his  instrument,  he  may  effect  these 
great  ends;  and  therefore  I  go. — Yet  I  am 
obliged  continually  to  call  my  mind  back  to  my 
principles.  I  feel  angry,  perhaps,  with  a  man, 
because  he  will  not  let  me  convert  him :  in 
spite  of  all  I  can  say,  he  will  still  love  the 
world. 

St.  Paul  admonishes  Timothy  to  endure 
hardness  as  a  ^ood  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ.  It 
sometimes  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  minister  to 
endure  the  hard  labor  of  a  nurse,  in  a  greater 


measure  than  that  of  a  soldier.  He  has  to 
encounter  the  difficulties  of  a  peculiar  situa- 
tion :  he  is  the  parent  of  a  family  of  children,  of 
various  tempers,  manners,  habits,  and  preju- 
dices :  if  he  does  not  continually  mortify  him- 
self, he  will  bear  hardly  upon  some  of  his  chil- 
dren.— He  has,  however,  to  endure  the  hard- 
ness of  calling  his  child,  his  friend,  to  an  ac- 
count; of  being  thought  a  severe,  jealous, 
legal  man.  If  a  man  will  let  matters  take  their 
chance,  he  may  live  smoothly  and  quietly 
enough  ;  but  if  he  will  stir  among  the  servants, 
and  sift  things  to  the  bottom,  he  must  bear  the 
consequences.  He  must  account  himself  a 
Man  of  Strife.  His  language  must  be — "It  is 
not  enough  that  you  feed  me,  or  fill  my  pocket 
— there  is  something  between  me  and  thee." 
The  most  tender  and  delicate  of  his  flock 
have  their  failings.  His  warmest  and  most 
zealous  supporters  break  down  somewhere. 
A  sun-shiny  day  breeds  most  reptiles.  It  is  not 
enough,  therefore,  that  the  sun  shines  out  in 
his  church.  It  is  not  enough  that  numbers 
shout  applause. 

A  minister  may  be  placed  in  a  discouraging 
situation.  He  may  not  suit  the  popular  taste. 
He  may  not  be  able  to  fall  into  the  fashionable 
style.  He  may  not  play  ivell  on  an  instrument. 
Though  an  effective  man,  and  a  man  of  energy, 
he  may  be  under  a  cloud.  The  door  may  be 
shut  against  him.  Yet  it  is  a  dangerous  thing 
for  such  a  man  to  force  open  the  door.  He 
should  rather  say — "I  have  a  lesson  to  learn 
here.  If  I  teach  the  people  nothing,  perhaps 
they  may  teach  me."  .The  work  of  winter  is 
to  be  done,  as  well  as  the  work  of  summer. 

The  hardne  is  which  I  have  to  endure  is  this 
— Here  are  a  number  of  families,  which  show 
me  every  kind  of  regard.  But  I  see  that  they 
are  not  right.  They  somehow  so  combine  the 
things  which  tiiey  hear  with  the  things  which 
they  do,  that  I  am  afraid  they  will  at  last  lie  down 
in  sorrow  !  Here  is  my  diihculty.  I  must  meet 
them  with  gentleness ;  but  I  must  detect  and 
uncover  the  evil.  I  shall  want  real  kindness 
and  common  honesty,  if  I  do  not.  Ephraim 
hath  E^ray  hairs;  yet  he  knoweth  it  not.  Ephraim 
is  a  cake  not  turned.  But,  if  I  tell  him  these 
things,  he  and  I  shall  become  two  persons. 
He  must,  however,  be  so  touched  in  private; 
for  he  will  not  be  touched  in  the  pulpit.  He 
will  say,  "  I  am  not  the  man." 

A  MINISTER  must  keep  under  his  body,  and 
bring  it  into  subjection.  A  Newmarket  groom 
will  sweat  himself  thin,  that  he  may  be  fit  for 
his  office  :  Now  they  do  it  to  obtain  a  corruptible 
crown ;  but  we,  an  incorruptible  ! 

is  come  from  college.  He  has  a  re- 
fined, accurate,  sensible  mind.  Some  of  our 
friends  wished  to  get  liim  a  station  at  Calcutta. 
They  think  him  just  adapted  for  that  sphere. 
1  differ  widely  in  my  view  of  the  matter.  A 
new  man,  with  his  college  accuracy  about  him, 
is  not  tlie  man  for  the  dissipated  and  fashion- 
able court  at  Calcutta.  Such  a  congregation 
will  bid  nothing  for  his  acuteness  and  reason- 
ing.— He,  who  is  to  talk  to  them  with  any 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


S9 


effect,  must  have  seen  life  and  the  world.  He 
must  be  able  to  treat  with  them  on  their  own 
ground.  And  he  must  be  able  to  do  it  with 
the  authority  of  a  messenger  from  God,  not 
with  the  arts  and  shifts  of  human  eloquence 
and  reasonings.  Dr.  Patten  said  admirably 
well,  in  a  sermon  which  I  heard  him  preach 
at  Oxford:  "Beware  how  you  suffer  the  infidel 
to  draw  you  upon  metaphysical  ground.  If  he 
get  you  there,  he  will  have  something  to  say. 
The  evidences  and  the  declarations  of  God's 
Avord  are  the  weapons  Avith  which  he  must  be 
combatted,  and  before  which  he  must  fall." 

LondonIs  very  peculiar  as  a  ministerial  walk. 
Almost  all  a  minister  can  do,  is  by  the  pulpit 
and  the  pen.  His  hearers  are  so  occupied  in 
the  world,  that  if  he  visit  them,  every  minute 
perhaps  brings  in  some  interruption. 

It  is  a  serious  question — Whether  a  minister 
ought  to  preach  at  all  bei/07id  his  experience. — He 
is  to  stand  fortli  as  a  witness — but  a  witness 
of  what  he  knows,  not  of  what  he  has  been 
TOLD.  He  nuist  preach  as  he  feels.  If  he  feels 
not  as  he  might  and  ought,  he  must  pray  for 
such  feelings;  but,  till  he  has  them,  ought  he 
to  pretend  to  them!  Going  faster  than  the  ex- 
perience led,  has  been  the  bane  of  many.  Men 
have  preached  in  certain  terms  and  phrases 
according  to  the  tone  given  by  others,  while 
the  thing  has  never  been  made  out  even  to 
their  conviction,  much  less  in  their  experience. 

It  is  a  most  important  point  of  duty  in  a 
minister  to  redeem  time.  A  young  minister 
has  sometimes  called  an  old  one  out  of  his 
study,  only  to  ask  him  how  he  did :  there  is  a 
tone  to  be  observed  toward  such  an  idler :  an 
intimation  may  be  given,  which  he  will  under- 
stand, "This  is  not  the  house!"  In  order  to 
redeem  time,  he  must  refuse  to  engage  in  se- 
cular affairs :  No  man  that  warreth,  entangleth 
himself  with  the  affairs  of  this  life,  that  he  may 
■please  Him  ivho  hath  chosen  him  to  be  a  soldier 
lie  nuist  watch,  too,  against  a  dozing  away  of 
time  :  the  clock-weight  goes  down  slowly,  yet 
it  draws  all  the  works  with  it. 

Owen  remarks,  that  it  is  not  sufficiently  con- 
sidered how  much  a  minister's  personal  reli- 
gion is  exposed  to  danger,  from  the  very  cir- 
cumstance of  religion  being  his  profession 
and  employment.  "  He  must  go  through  the 
acts  of  rehgion:  he  must  put  on  the  appear- 
ances of  religion:  he  must  utter  the  language 
and  display  the  feelings  of  religion.  It  re- 
quires double  diligence" and  vigilance  to  main- 
tain, under  such  circumstances,  the  spirit  of 
religion.  I  have  prayed:  I  have  talked:  I 
have  preached:  but  now  I  should  perish, after 
all,  if  I  did  not  feed  on  the  bread  which  1  have 
broken  to  others. 

A  MINISTER  must  cultivate  X  TENDER  SPIRIT. 

If  he  does  this  so  as  to  carry  a  savor  and  unc- 
tion into  his  work,  he  will  have  far  more  weight 
than  other  men.  This  is  the  result  of  a  devo- 
tional habit.    To  affect  feeling,  is  nauseous  and 


soon  detected;  but  to  feci,  is  the  readiest  way 
to  the  hearts  of  others. 

The  leading  defect  in  Christian  ministers  is 
want  of  a  devotion.vl  habit.  The  church  of 
Rome  made  much  of  this  habit.  The  contests 
accompanying  and  following  the  Reformation, 
with  something  of  an  indiscriminate  enmity 
against  some  of  the  good  of  that  church  as 
well  as  the  evil,  combined  to  repress  this  spirit 
in  the  Protestant  writings;  whereas  the  mind 
of  Christ  seems,  in  fact,  to  be  the  grand  end  of 
Christianity  in  its  operation  upon  man. 

There  is  a  manifest  want  of  spiritual  influ- 
ence on  the  ministry  of  the  present  day.  I 
feel  it  in  my  own  case,  and  I  sec  it  in  that  of 
otliers.  I  am  afraid  that  there  is  too  much 
of  a  low,  managing,  contriving,  manoeuvring 
temper  of  mind  among  us.  We  are  laying 
ourselves  out,  more  than  is  expedient,  to  meet 
one  man's  taste,  and  another  man's  prejudices. 
The  ministry  is  a  grand  and  holy  affiiir,  and  it 
should  find  in  us  a  simple  habit  of  spirit,  and 
a  holy  but  humble  indifference  to  all  conse- 
quences. 

A  MAN  of  the  world  will  bear  to  hear  me 
read  in  the  desk  that  awful  passage  :  Wide  is 
the  gate,  and  broad  is  the  way,  that  Icadeth  to  de- 
struction ;  and  many  there  be  which  go  in  thereat: 
Because  strait  is  the  gate,  and  narrow  is  the  way 
which  leadeth  unto  life ;  and  fetv  there  be  that 
find  it.  Nay,  he  will  approve  it  : — "  The  min- 
ister is  in  the  desk  :  he  is  reading  the  lesson 
of  the  day."  But  this  very  man — were  I  to  go 
home  with  him,  and  tell  him  in  his  parlor 
that  most  of  those  whom  he  knows  and  loves 
are  going  on  in  that  road  to  eternal  destruction 
— this  very  man  would  brand  the  sentiment  as 
harsh  and  uncharitable.  Thougli  uttered  by 
Christ  himself,  it  is  a  declaration  as  fanatical 
and  uncandid,  in  the  judgment  of  the  world,  as 
could  be  put  together  in  language. 

Many  hearers  cannot  enter  into  the  reasons 
of  the  Cross.  They  adopt  what  I  think  is 
Butler's  grand  defect  on  this  subject.  He 
speaks  of  the  Cross  as  an  appointmentof  God, 
and  therefore  to  be  submitted  to:  but  God 
has  said  much  in  his  word  of  the  reasons  of 
this  appointment  :  that  he  might  be  just,  and  the 
justifier  of  him  that  believeth. 

Several  things  are  required,  to  enable  a  min- 
ister to  attain  a  proper  variety  in  his  manner. 
He  must  be  in  continual  practice  :  if  I  were  to 
preach  but  once  a  month,  I  should  lose  the 
ability  of  preaching.  He  must  know  that  his 
heare'rs  arc  attached  to  him — that  they  will 
grant  him  indulgences  and  liberties.  He  must, 
in  some  measure,  feel  himself  above  his  con- 
gregation. The  presence  of  a  certain  brother 
chills  me ;  because  I  feel  that  I  can  talk  on  no 
one  subject  in  the  pulpit,  with  which  he  is  not 
far  better  acquainted  than  I  am. 

The  first  duty  of  a  minister  is,  to  call  on 
his  hearers  to  turn  to  th«  Ix>rd.     "  We  have 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


much  to  speak  to  you  upon.  We  have  many 
duties  to  urge  on  "you.  We  have  much  in- 
struction to  give  you — but  all  will  be  thrown 
away,  till  you  have  turned  to  the  Lord.'"  Let 
me  illustrate  this  by  a  familiar  comparison. 
You  see  your  child  sinking  in  tlie  water :  his 
education  lies  near  your  heart :  you  are  anx- 
ious to  train  him  up  so,  that  he  may  occupy 
well  the  post  assigned  to  him  in  life.  But, 
when  you  see  him  drowning,  the  first  thoughts 
are—not  how  you  may  educate  him,  but  how 
you  may  save  him.  Restore  him  to  life,  and 
then  call  that  life  into  action. 

A  DisiNTKRESTED  regard  to  truth  should  be, 
what  it  very  seldom  is,  the  most  striking  char- 
acter in  a  Christian  minister.  His  purpose 
should  be  to  make  proselytes  to  truth,  and  not 
to  any  thing  which  may  be  particular  in  his 
views  of  it.  "  Read  my  books,"  says  one. — 
"  No  !"  says  another,  "  read  mine.''  And  thus 
religion  is  taken  up  by  piece-meal;  and  the 
mind  is  diverted  from  its  true  nature  by  false 
associations.  If  the  teacher,  whom  this  man 
has  chosen  for  his  oracle,  disgrace  religion  by 
irreligious  conduct,  he  stumbles.  He  stum- 
bles, because  he  has  not  been  fixed  upon  the 
sole  and  immoveable  basis  of  the  religion  of 
the  Bible.  The  mind,  well  instructed  in  the 
Scriptures,  can  bear  to  see  even  its  spiritual 
father  make  shipwreck  of  the  faith  and  scan- 
dalize the  gospel ;  but  will  remain  itself  un- 
moved. The  man  is  in  possession  of  a  trea- 
sure, which,  if  others  are  foolish  enough  to 
abandon,  yet  they  cannot  detract  any  thing 
from  the  value  attached  to  it  in  his  esteem. 

That  a  minister  may  learn  how  to  magmfy 
his  office,  let  him  study  the  character,  the 
spirit,  and  the  history  of  St.  Paul.  His  life 
and  death  were  one  magnifying  of  his  office  : 
mark  his  object— to  win  souls  ! — to  execute 
the  will  of  God  !  As  the  man  rises  in  his  own 
esteem,  his  office  sinks ;  but,  as  the  office  rises 
in  his  view,  the  man  falls.  He  must  be  in 
constant  hostility  with  himself,  if  he  would 
magnify  his  office.  He  must  hold  himself  in 
readiness  to  make  sacrifices,  when  called  to  do 
so :  he  will  not  barter  his  office,  like  Balaam  ; 
but  will  refuse  to  sell  his  service,  like  Micaiah. 
Like  Ezra  and  Nehemiah,  he  will  refuse  to 
come  down  from  the  great  work  which  he  has 
to  do.  He  may  be  calumniated  ;  but  he  will 
avoid  hasty  vindications  of  his  character :  it 
does  not  appear  that  Elisha  sent  after  Naaman 
to  vindicate  himself  from  the  falsehoods  of 
Gehazi :  there  appears  to  me  much  true  digni- 
ty in  this  conduct :  I  fear  I  should  have  wanted 
patience  to  act  thus. 

Some  young  ministers  have  been  greatly  in- 
jured, by  taking  up  their  creed  from  a  sort  of 
second  or  third  rate  writers.  Toplady,  per- 
haps, has  said  that  he  has  found  his  preaching 
most  successful,  when  it  has  turned  on  the 
grand  doctrines  of  Calvinism.  A  young  man 
admires  Toplady,  and  adopts  the  same  notion 
concerning  his  own  ministry.  But  let  him 
turn  to  a  master  on  the  subject.     He  will  find 


such  a  man  as  Traill  handling  the  sovereignty 
of  God,  and  such  high  points  of  doctrine,  with  a 
holy  and  heavenly  sweetness ;  which,  while 
it  renders  it  almost  impossible  not  to  receive 
his  sentiments,  leaves  nothing  on  the  mind  but 
a  religious  savor. 

The  grand  aim  of  a  minister  must  be  the 
EXHIBITION  OF  GOSPEL  TRUTH.  Statesmen  may 
make  the  greatest  blunders  in  the  world,  but 
that  is  not  his  aifair.  Like  a  King's  messen- 
ger, he  must  not  stop  to  take  care  of  a  person 
fallen  down :  if  he  can  render  any  kindness 
consistently  with  his  duty,  he  will  do  it;  if 
not,  he  will  prefer  his  office. 

Our  method  of  preaching  is  not  that  by 
which  Christianity  was  propagated  :  yet  the 
genius  of  Christianity  is  not  changed.  There 
was  nothing  in  the  primitive  method  set  or 
formal.  The  primitive  bishop  stood  up,  and 
read  the  gospel,  or  some  other  portion  of 
Scripture,  and  pressed  on  the  hearers,  with 
great  earnestness  and  affection,  a  few  plain 
and  forcible  truths  evidently  resulting  from 
that  portion  of  the  Divine  Word :  we  take  a 
text,  and  make  an  oration.  Edification  was 
then  the  object  of  both  speaker  and  hearers; 
and,  while  this  continues  to  be  the  object,  no 
better  method  can  be  found.  A  parable,  or 
history,  or  passage  of  Scripture,  thus  illustra- 
ted and  enforced,  is  the  best  method  of  intro- 
ducing truth  to  any  people  who  are  ignorant  of 
it,  and  of  setting  it  home  with  power  on  those 
who  know  it ;  and  not  formal,  doctrinal,  argu- 
mentative discourses.  Truth  and  simplicitv 
are  the  soul  of  an  efficacious  ministry. 

The  Puritans  were  still  farther  removed  from 
the  primitive  method  of  preaching  ;  they  would 
preach  fifteen  or  sixteen  sermons  on  a  text. 
A  primitive  bishop  would  have  been  shocked 
with  one  of  our  sermons ;  and,  such  is  our 
taste,  we  should  be  shocked  with  his.  They 
brought  forward  Scripture  :  we  bring  forward 
our  statements.  They  directed  all  their  ob- 
servations to  thrOAV  light  on  Scripture  :  we 
quote  Scripture  to  throw  light  on  our  observa- 
tions. More  faith  and  more  grace  would  make 
us  better  preachers,  for  out  of  the  abundance  of 
the  heart  the  mouth  speaket/i.  Chrysostom's 
was  the  right  method.  Leighton's  Lectures 
on  Peter  approach  veiy  near  to  this  method 

In  acting  on  matter,  the  art  of  man  is  migh- 
ty. The  steam-engine  is  a  mighty  machine. 
But,  in  religion,  the  art  of  man  is  mere  feeble- 
ness. The  armor  of  Saul  is  armor  in  the 
camp  of  the  Israelites,  or  in  the  camp  of  the 
Philistines — but  we  want  the  sling  and  the 
stone.  I  honor  Metaphysicians,  Logicians, 
Critics,  and  Historians — in  their  places.  Look 
at  facts.  Men,  who  lay  out  their  strength 
in  statements,  preach  churches  empty.  Few- 
men  have  a  wisdom  so  large,  as  to  see  that  the 
way  which  they  cannot  attain  may  yet  be  the 
best  way.  I  dare  not  tell  most  academical, 
logical,  frigid  men,  how  little  I  account  of  their 
opinion,  concerning  the  true  method  of  preach- 
ing to  the  popular  car.     1  hear  them  talk,  as 


REMAINS    OF   MR.    CECIL 


41 


utterly  incompetent  judges.  Such  men  would 
have  said  St.  Paul  was  fit  only  for  the  taberna- 
cle. What  he  would  have  said  they  were  fit 
for,  I  cannot  tell.  They  are  often  great  men 
— first-rate  men — unequalled  men— in  their 
class  and  sphere .-  but  it  is  not  their  sphere  to 
manage  the  world. 

If  a  minister  could  work  miracles,  he  would 
do   little  more  than  interest  the  curiosity  of 

men "I  want  to  eat,  and  I  want  to  drink, 

and  I  do  it ;  I  get  on  with  difficulty  enough,  as 
things  are ;  and  you  talk  about  treating  with 
heaven!  I  know  nothing  of  the  matter,  and  I 
want  no  such  thing" — This  is  the  language  of 
man's  heart.  A  future  thing!  An  indefinite- 
ly FUTURE  thing !  No !  if  a  man  could  even  au- 
thoritatively declare  that  the  day  of  judgment 
would  be  this  day  seven  years,  he  would  have 
little  influence  on  mankind.  Very  few  would 
be  driven  from  the  play-house — very  few  from 
the  gamingtable — very  few  from  the  brothel. — 
The  din  on  'Change  would  be  very  little  dimin- 
ished. I  frequently  look  back  on  the  early  pe- 
riods of  my  life,  and  imagine  myself  treating 
with  such  a  character  as  I  know  I  then  was. 
I  say  to  myself.  "  What  now  can  I  possibly 
say,  that  will  affect  and  interest  that  young 
fellow  of  eighteen  ?" 

Some  Christian  ministers  fail  in  their  effect 
on  their  hearers,  by  not  entering  as  philoso- 
phers into  the  state  of  human  nature.  They 
do  not  consider  how  low  the  patient  is  reduced 
— that  he  is  to  be  treated  more  as  a  child — 
that  he  is  to  have  milk  administered  to  him,  in- 
stead of  strong  meat.  They  set  themselves  to 
plant  principles  and  prove  points,  when  they 
should  labor  to  interest  the  heart.  But,  after 
all,  men  will  carry  their  natural  character  into 
their  ministry.  If  a  man  has  a  dry,  logical, 
scholastic  turn  of  mind,  we  shall  rarely  find 
him  an  interesting  preacher.  One  in  a  thou- 
sand may  meet  him,  but  not  more. 

The  Christian  will  sometimes  be  brought  to 
walk  in  a  solitary  path.  God  seems  to  cut 
away  his  props,  that  he  may  reduce  him  to 
himself.  His  religion  is  to  be  felt  as  a  per- 
sonal, particular,  appropriate  possession.  He 
is  to  feel,  that,  as  there  is  but  one  Jehovah  to 
bless,  so  there  seems  to  him  as  though  there 
were  but  one  penitent  in  the  imiverse  to  be 
blessed  by  Him.  Mary  Magdalene  at  the  se- 
pulchre was  brought  to  this  state.  She  might 
have  said,  "  I  know  not  where  Peter  is  :  he  is 
gone  away — perhaps  into  the  world — perhaps 
to  weep  over  his  fall.  I  know  not  where  John 
is.  What  are  the  feelings  and  states  of  my 
brethren,  I  know  not.  I  am  left  here  alone. 
No  one  accompanies  and  strengthens  me.  But 
if  none  other  will  seek  my  Lord,  yet  Avill  I 
seek  him !"  There  is  a  commanding  energy 
in  religious  sympathy.  A  minister,  for  exam- 
ple, while  his  preaching  seems  effective,  and 
life  and  feeling  show  themselves  around  him, 
moves  on  with  ease  and  pleasure.  But  there 
is  much  of  the  man  here.  If  God  change  the 
scene— if  discouragements  meet  him — if  he 


seem  to  be  laid  by,  in  any  measure,  as  an  in- 
strimient — if  the' love  of  his  hearers  to  his 
person  and  ministry  decay — this  is  a  severe 
trial:  yet  most  of  us  need  this  trial,  that  we 
may  be  reduced  simply  to  God,  and  may  feel 
that  the  whole  affair  is  between  him  and  our- 
selves. A  dead  fish  will  swim  with  the  stream, 
whatever  be  its  direction.  But  a  living  one  will 
not  only  resist  the  stream  ;  but,  if  it  chooses, 
it  can  swim  against  it.  Tlie  soul  that  lives 
from  God,  will  seek  God,  and  follow  God — 
more  easily  and  pleasantly,  indeed,  if  the 
stream  flow  toward  the  point  whither  God 
leads ;  but  still,  it  will  follow  God  as  its  sole 
rest  and  centre,  though  the  stream  of  men  and 
opinions  would  hurry  it  away  from  him. 

Gravity  is,  doubtless,  obligatory  on  minis- 
ters. The  apostle  connects  it  with  simplicity. 
Yet  it  must  be  natural — not  affected.  Some 
men  give  every  thing  in  an  oracular  style  :  this 
looks  like  affectation,  and  will  disgust  others  : 
they  will  attribute  it  to  religion  :  but  this  is  not 
a  sanctified  gravity.  Other  men  are  always 
disposed  to  levity :  not  that  a  man  of  origin- 
al fancy  is  to  be  condemned  for  thinking  in 
his  own  way  :  but  the  minister  must  consider 
that  he  is  a  man  of  a  consecrated  character  : 
if  it  should  not  be  difficult  to  himself  to  make 
transitions  from  levity  to  gravity,  it  will  be  diffi- 
cult to  carry  others  with  him  therein.  Who  has 
not  felt,  if  God  brings  him  into  a  trying  situa- 
tion, in  which  he  sees  that  it  is  an  awful  thing  to 
suffer  or  to  die,  that  gravity  is  then  natural  T 
every  thing  else  is  offensive  !  That,  too,  is  evil 
which  lets  down  the  tone  of  a  company  :  when 
a  minister  loses  his  gravity,  the  company  will 
take  liberties  with  him.  Yet,  with  a  right 
principle,  we  must  not  play  the  fool.  Gravity 
must  be  natural  and  simple.  There  must  be 
urbanity  and  tenderness  in  it.  A  man  must 
not  formalize  on  every  thing.  He,  who  form- 
alizes on  every  thing,  is  a  fool :  and  a  grave 
fool  is  perhaps  more  injurious  than  alight  fool. 

We  are  called  to  build  a  spiritual  house. 
One  workman  is  not  to  busy  himself  in  telling 
j  another  his  duty.  We  are  placed  in  different 
!  circumstances,  with  various  talents :  and  each 
I  is  called  to  do  what  he  can.  Two  men,  equal- 
ly accepted  of  God,  may  be  exceedingly  dis- 
tinct in  the  account  which  they  will  give  of 
their  emploj- . 

A  REGUL.A.R  clergyman  can  do  no  more  in  the 
discharge  of  his  duty,  than  our  church  requires 
of  him.  He  may  fall  far  short  of  her  require- 
ments ;  but  he  cannot  exceed,  by  the  most  de- 
voted life,  the  duties  which  he  is  prescribed. 
What  man  on  earth  is  so  pernicious  a  drone, 
as  an  idle  clergyman! — a  man,  engaged  in  the 
most  serious  profession  in  the  world :  who 
rises  to  eat,  and  drink,  and  lounge,  and  trifle  : 
and  goes  to  bed;  and  then  rises  again,  to  do 
the  same !  Our  office  is  the  most  laborious  in 
the  world.  The  mind  must  be  always  on  the 
stretch,  to  acquire  wisdom  and  grace,  and  to 
communicate  them  to  all  who  come  near.  It 
is  well,  indeed,  when  a  clergyman  of  genius 


R  E  M  A  I  N  S    O  F    M  R.    CECIL. 


and  learning  devotes  himself  to  the  publication 
of  classics  and  works  of  literature,  if  he  can- 
not be  prevailed  onto  turn  his  genius  and  learn- 
ing to  a  more  important  end.  Enter  into  this 
kind  of  society,  what  do  you  hear  ! — "  Have 
you  seen  the  new  edition  of  Sophocles  V — 
'"  No !  is  a  new  edition  of  Sophocles  under- 
taken ]" — and  this  makes  up  the  conversation, 
and  these  are  the  ends  of  men  who,  by  pro- 
fession, should  win  souls  !  I  received  a  most 
useful  hint  from  Dr.  Bacon,  then  Father  of 
the  University,  when  I  was  at  College.  I  used 
frequently  to  visit  him  at  his  Living  near  Ox- 
ford .  he  would  say  to  me,  "  What  are  you 
doing!  What  are  your  studies  ?'" — "I  am  read- 
ing so  and  so." — "  "You  are  quite  wrong.  Wlien 
I  was  young,  I  could  turn  any  piece  of  Hebrew 
into  Greek  verse  with  ease.  'But,  when  I  came 
into  this  parish,  and  had  to  teach  ignorant  peo- 
ple, I  was  wholly  at  a  loss;  I  had  no  furniture. 
They  thought  ine  a  great  man,  but  that  was 
their  ignorance ;  fur  I  knew  as  little  as  they 
did  of  what  it  was  most  important  to  them  to 
know.  Study  chiefly  what  you  can  turn  to 
good  account  in  your  future  life."  And  yet 
this  wise  man  had  not  just  views  of  serious 
religion :  he  was  one  of  those  who  are  for  re- 
forming the  parish— making  the  maids  indus- 
trious, and  the  men  sober  and  honest — but  when 
I  ventured  to  ask,  "  Sir,  must  not  all  this  be 
effected  by  the  infusion  of  a  divine  principle 
into  the  mind  ?  a  union  of  the  soul  with  the 
great  head  of  influence  ]" — "  No  more  of  that ; 
no  more  of  that,  I  pray  I" 

A  WISE  minister  stands  between  practical 
atheism  and  religious  enthusiasm. 

A  SERMON,  that  has  more  head  infused  into  it 
than  heart,  will  not  come  home  with  eflicacy 
to  the  hearers.  "You  must  do  so  and  so: 
such  and  such  consequences  will  follow  if  you 
do  not :  such  and  such  advantages  will  result 
from  doing  it :" — this  is  cold,  dead,  and  spirit- 
less, when  it  stands  alone  ;  or  even  when  it  is 
most  prominent.  Let  the  preacher's  head  be 
stored  with  wisdom ;  but,  above  all,  let  his 
heart  so  feel  his  subject,  that  he  may  infuse 
life  and  interest  into  it,  by  speaking  like  one 
who  actually  possesses  and  feels  what  he  says. 

Faith  is  the  master-spring  of  a  minister. 
"  Hell  is  before  me,  and  thousands  of  souls 
shut  up  there  in  everlasting  agonies — Jesus 
Christ  stands  forth  'o  save  men  from  rushing 
into  this  bottomless  abyss — He  sends  me  to 
proclaim  his  ability  and  his  love  :  I  want  no 
fourth  idea !— every  fourth  idea  is  contempti- 
ble ! — every  fourth  idea  is  a  grand  imperti- 
nence !'■ 

The  meanness  of  the  earthen  vessel,  which 
conveys  to  others  the  Gospel  treasure,  takes 
nothing  from  the  value  of  the  treasure.  A 
dying  hand  may  sign  a  deed  of  gift  of  incalcu- 
lable value.  A  shepherd's  boy  mav  point  out 
the  way  to  a  philosoi)her.  A  beggar  may  be 
the  l)carcr  of  an  invaluable  present. 


A  writer  of  sermons  has  often  no  idea  how 
many  words  he  uses,  to  which  the  common 
people  aflix  either  no  meaning,  or  a  false  one. 
He  speaks,  perhaps,  of  "  relation  to  God :" 
but  the  people,  who  hear  him,  aflix  no  other 
idea  to  the  word,  than  that  of  father,  or  brother, 
or  relative.  The  preacher  must  converse  with 
the  people,  that  he  may  acquire  their  words 
and  phrases. 

It  sometimes  pleases  God  to  disqualify  min- 
isters for  their  work,  before  he  takes  them  tc» 
their  reward.  Where  he  gives  them  wisdom 
to  perceive  this,  and  grace  to  acquiesce  in  the 
dispensation — such  a  close  of  an  honorablt; 
life,  where  the  desire  to  be  publicly  useful  sur- 
vives the  power,  is  a  loud  amen  to  all  former 
labors. 


On  Infidclily  and  Popery. 

Infidel  writings  are  ultimately  productive  of 
little  or  no  danger  to  the  church  of  God.  Nay, 
we  are  less  at  a  loss  in  judging  of  the  wisdom 
of  Providence  in  permitting  them,  than  we  are 
in  judging  of  many  other  of  its  designs.  They 
may  shake  the  simple,  humble,  spiritual  mind  ; 
but  they  are,  in  the  end,  the  means  of  enlight- 
ening and  settling  it. 

There  are  but  two  sorts  of  people  in  the 
world.  Some  walk  by  the  light  of  the  Lord,  and 
all  others  lie  in  the  wicked  one  ??i  darkness  and  in 
the  shadow  of  death.  Where  there  is  not  an  en- 
lightened, simple,  humble,  spiritual  mind,  no- 
tions and  opinions  are  of  little  consequence. 
The  impudent  and  refuted  misrepresentations 
of  infidels  may  turn  a  dark  mind  to  some  other 
notions  and  way  of  thinking;  but  it  is  in  the 
dark  still.  Till  a  man  sees  by  the  light  of  the 
Lord,  every  change  of  opinions  is  only  putting 
a  new  dress  on  a  dead  carcass,  and  calling  it 
alive. 

The  grace  of  God  must  give  simplicity. 
Wherever  that  is,  it  is  a  security  against  dan- 
gerous error;  wherever  it  is  not,  erroneous 
opinions  may  perhaps  less  predispose  the  mind 
against  the  truth  of  God  in  its  lively  power  on 
the  soul,  than  true  notions  destitute  of  all  life 
and  influence  do. 

Yet  the  writings  of  infidels  must  be  read 
with  caution  and  fear.  There  are  cold,  intel- 
lectual, speculative,  malignant  foes  to  Chris- 
tianity. I  dare  not  tamper  with  such,  when  I 
am  in  my  right  mind.  I  have  received  serious 
injury,  for  a  time,  even  when  my  duty  has 
called  me  to  read  what  they  have  to  say.  The 
daring  impiety  of  Belsham's  answer  to  Wil- 
berforce  ruffled  the  calm  of  my  spirits.  I  read 
it  over  while  at  Bath,  in  the  autumn  of  1798 
I  waked  in  pain,  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. T  tried  to  cheer  myself  by  an  exercise 
of  faith  on  Jesus  Christ.  I  lifted  up  my  heart 
to  him,  as  sympathizing  with  me  and  engaged 
to  support  me.  Many  times  have  I  thus  ob- 
tained quiet  and  repose  :  but  now  I  could  lay 
no  hold  on  him :  I  had  given  the  enemy  an 
advantage  over  me :  my  habit  had  imbibed 
poison :  my  nerves  trembled !  my  strength  was 
gone! — "Jesus  Christ  sympathize  with  you, 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


43 


and  relieve  you  !  It  is  all  enthusiasm !  It  is 
idolatry  !  Jesus  Christ  has  preached  his  ser- 
mons, and  done  his  duty,  and  is  gone  to  heaven ! 
And  there  he  is,  as  other  good  men  are !  Ad- 
dress your  prayers  to  the  Supreme  Being!" — 
I  obtain  relief,  in  such  cases,  by  dismissing 
from  my  thoughts  all  that  enemies  or  friends 
can  say.  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  Bel- 
sham  or  with  Wilberforce.  I  come  to  Christ 
himself.  I  hear  what  he  says.  I  timi  overthe 
gospels.  I  read  his  conversations.  I  dwell 
especially  on  his  farewell  discourse  with  his 
disciples  in  St.  John's  gospel.  If  there  be 
meaning  in  words,  and  if  Christ  were  not  a 
deceiver  or  deceived,  the  reality  of  the  Chris- 
tian's life,  in  him  and  from  him  by  faith,  is 
written  there  as  with  a  sun-beam. 

This  temptation  besets  me  to  this  day,  and 
I  know  not  that  I  have  any  other  which  is  so 
particular  in  its  attacks  upon  me.  I  am  some- 
times restless  in  bed:  and,  when  I  find  myself 
so,  I  generally  think  that  the  parenthesis  can- 
not be  so  w^ell  employed  as  in  prayer.  While 
my  mind  is  thus  ascending  to  Christ  and  com- 
muning with  him,  it  often  comes  across  me — 
"What  a  fool  art  thou,  to  imagine  these  men- 
tal effusions  can  be  known  to  any  other  Being! 
what  a  senseless  enthusiast,  to  imagine  that 
the  man  who  was  nailed  to  a  cross  can  have 
any  knowledge  of  these  secrets  of  thy  soul!" 
On  one  of  these  occasions  it  struck  me  with 
great  and  commanding  evidence — "Why  might 
not  St.  John,  in  the  Isle  of  Patmos — imprison- 
ed perhaps  in  a  cave — why  might  not  lie  have 
said  so?  Wiiy  might  not  he  have  doubted 
whether  Christ  the  crucified  could  have  know- 
ledge of  his  feeling,  wlien  he  icas  in.  (he  Spirit 
on  the  Lord's  day?  He  had  no  doubt  com- 
munion with  Christ  in  the  Spirit,  before  he 
had  those  palpable  evidences  of  his  presence 
which  immediately  followed." 

In  the  permission  of  certain  bold  infidel 
characters  and  writings,  we  may  discern  plain 
evidences  of  that  awful  system  of  judicial 
government,  with  which  God  has  been  pleased 
to  rule  the  w^orld.  Where  there  is  a  moral  in- 
disposition, where  men  are  inclined  to  be  de- 
ceived, where  they  are  waiting  as  it  were  for 
a  leader — there  he  sends  such  men  or  such 
writings,  as  harden  them  in  their  impiety: 
while  a  teachable  and  humble  mind  will  dis- 
cern the  true  character  of  such  men  or  wri- 
tings, and  escape  the  danger. 

I  can  conceive  a  character  much  more  per- 
nicious in  its  influence,  than  the  daring  and 
impudent  infidel.  A  man — in  the  estimation 
of  all  the  world  modest,  amiable,  benevolent 
— who  should,  with  deep  concern,  lament  the 
obligation  mider  which  he  feels  himself  to  de- 
part from  the  religion  of  Europe,  the  religion 
of  his  country^  the  religion  of  his  family;  and 
should  profess  his  unfeigned  desire  to  find 
this  religion  true,  but  that  he  cannot  possibly 
bring  his  mind  to  believe  it,  and  that  for  such 
and  such  reasons :  when  he  should  thus  intro- 
duce all  the  strongest  points  that  can  be  urged 
on  the  subject. 

But  God  governs  the  world.     It  is  not  in  his 


design  to  permit  such  men  to  arise.  The  in- 
fidel has  always  had  something  about  him, 
which  has  ascertained  his  obliquity  to  the  eye, 
that  has  not  been  dimmed  by  the  moral  indis- 
position of  the  heart. 

The  low  and  scurrilous  writers  against 
Revelation  carry  their  own  condemnation 
with  them.  They  are  lil-.e  an  ill-looking  fel- 
low, who  comes  into  a  Court  of  Justice  to 
give  evidence ;  but  carries  the  aspect,  on  the 
first  glance,  of  a  town  bully,  ready  to  sw'car 
whatever  shall  be  suggested  to  him. 

Burke  has  painted  the  spirit  of  democracy 
to  the  life.  I  have  fallen  in  with  some  demo- 
crats, who  knew  nothing  of  me.  They  have 
been  subjects  of  great  curiosity,  when  I  could 
forget  the  horrid  display  of  sin  that  was  before 
me.  I  saw  a  malignant  eye — a  ferocity — an 
intensity  of  mind  on  their  point.  Viewed  in 
its  temper  and  tendencies.  Jacobinism  is  Devil- 
ism — Belialism.  It  takes  the  yoke  of  God 
and  man — puts  it  on  the  ground — and  stamps 
on  it.  Every  man  is  called  out  into  exertion 
against  it.  It  is  an  inveterate,  malignant,  blas- 
pheming, atheistical,  fierce  spirit.  It  seems  a 
toss  up  with  these  men,  whether  Satan  himself 
shall  govern  the  world.  Before  such  men,  I 
say  not  a  w^ord.  Our  Master  has  commanded 
us  not  to  cast  pearls  hefore  swine.  I  am  vastly 
delighted  with  character — true  and  original 
character :  but  this  is  an  awful  and  afl^'ecting 
display  of  it. 

The  cliurch  has  endured  a  pagan  and  a  pa- 
pal persecution.  There  remains  for  her  an 
INFIDEL  persecution — general,  bitter,  purifying, 
cementing. 

It  is,  perhaps,  impossible,  in  the  very  nature 
of  things,  that  such  another  scheme  as  Popeiy 
could  be  invented.  It  is,  in  truth,  the  mystery 
of  iniquity,  that  it  should  be  able  to  work  it- 
self into  the  simple,  grand,  sublime,  holy  insti- 
tution of  Christianity,  and  so  to  interweave 
its  abominations  with  the  truth,  as  to  occupy 
the  strongest  passions  of  the  soul,  and  to  con- 
trol the  strongest  understandings!  AVhile  Pas- 
cal can  speak  of  Popery  as  he  does,  its  in- 
fluence over  the  mass  of  the  people  can  excite 
no  surprise.  Those  two  master  principles — 
That  w^e  must  believe  as  the  church  ordains — 
and.  That  there  is  no  salvation  out  of  this 
church — oppose,  in  the  ignorance  and  fear 
which  they  beget,  an  almost  insuperable  bar- 
rier against  the  truth. 

I  H.iVE  not  sucli  expectations  of  a  millen- 
nium as  many  entertain :  yet  I  believe  that  the 
figures  and  expressions  of  prophecj^  have  never 
received  their  accomplishment.  They  are  too 
grand  and  ample,  to  have  been  fulfilled  by  any 
state  which  the  church  has  hitherto  seen. 
Christianity  has  yet  had  no  face  suitable  to  its 
dignity.  It  has  savored  hitherto  too  much  of 
man — of  his  institutions — of  his  prejudices — 
of  his  follies— of  his  sin.  It  must  be  drawn 
out — depicted  — exhibited— demonstrated  to 


'14 


REMAINS    OF    MR.  CECIL. 


the  world.  Its  chief  enemies  have  been  the 
men  by  whom,  under  the  professions  of  Hail, 
Master!  it  has  been  distorted,  abused,  and 
vilified. 

Popery  was  the  master-piece  of  Satan.  I 
believe  him  utterly  incapable  of  such  another 
contrivance.  It  was  a  systematic  and  infalli- 
ble plan  for  forming  manacles  and  mufflers 
for  the  human  mind.  It  was  a  well  laid  de- 
.<;ign  to  render  Christianity  contemptible,  by 
the  abuse  of  its  principles  and  its  institutions. 
It  was  formed  to  overwlielm— to  enchant — to 
sit  as  the  great  ivhorc,  inahing  the  earth  drunk 
zvith  lier  fornications. 

The  infidel  conspiracy  approaches  nearest 
to  Popery.  But  infidelity  is  a  suicide.  It  dies 
bv  its"  own  malignity.  It  is  known  and  read 
of  all  men.  No  man  v.-as  ever  injured  essen- 
tially by  it,  who  was  fortified  with  a  small  por- 
tion of  the  genuine  spirit  of  Christianity — its 
contrition  and  its  docility.  Nor  is  it  one  in 
its  efforts :  its  end  is  one ;  but  its  means  are 
disjointed,  various,  and  often  clashing.  Popery 
debases  and  alloys  Christianity;  but  infidelity 
is  a  furnace,  wherein  it  is  purified  and  refined. 
The  injuries  done  to  it  by  Popery  will  be  re- 
paired by  the  very  attacks  of  infidelity. 

In  the  mean  time,  Christianity  wears  an  en- 
chanting form  to  all,  who  can  penetrate  through 
the  mists  thrown  around  it  by  its  false  friends 
and  its  avowed  foes.  The  exiled  French  Priest 
raises  the  pity  and  indignation  of  all  Christians, 
while  he  describes  the  infernal  plots  of  the 
infidel  conspirators  against  Christianity,  and 
shows  them  in  successful  operation  against 
his  church.  *  We  seem,  for  a  while,  to  forget 
her  errors:  and  we  view  her,  for  the  moment, 
only  so  far  as  she  possesses  Christianity  in 
common  with  ourselves.  But  when  he  charges 
the  origin  of  this  infidel  conspiracy  on  the 
principles  asserted  by  the  Waldenses  or  the 
church  of  Geneva,  the  enchantment  dissolves. 
We  see  that  he  is  under  the  influence  of  a 
sophism :  by  which,  having  imposed  upon  him- 
self, he  would  impose  upon  others.  With  him, 
Christianity  and  his  churcli  mean  one  and  the 
same  thing.  A  separation  from  his  church,  is 
a  separation  from  C.hristianity;  and  proceeds 
on  principles  whichlead  necessarily,  if  pursued 
n  their  issues,  to  every  abomination  of  infi- 
delity. But  let  him  know  that  the  church  of 
Geneva  protested  against  the  false  friend  of 
Christianity ;  and  that,  if  tlie  avowed  enemy 
of  Christianity  had  then  elevated  himself,  she 
would  have  protested  with  cqjiial  zeal  against 
HIM.  Let  him  know,  that,  if  his  church  had 
listened  to  the  voice  of  the  Reformer,  the 
enemy  of  Christianity  would  have  wanted 
prround  for  fooling  to  his  attacks.  The  Papist 
falsely  charges  the  Reformer  as  the  father  of 
infidelity:  the  infidel  maliciously  confounds 
Popeiy  and  Christianity  :  but  the  true  Chris- 
tian is  as  far  from  the  licentiousness  of  the 
infidel,  as  he  is  from  the  corruption  of  the  Pa- 
pist. 

I  am  not  inclined  to  view  things  in  a  gloomy 
aspect.     Christianity  must  undergo  a  renova- 


Alludbg  to  Barruel's  Memoirs  of  Jacobinism.  J.  P. 


tion.  If  God  has  sent  his  Son,  and  has  de 
clared  that  he  will  exalt  him  on  his  throne— 
the  earth  and  all  that  it  inherits  are  contempt- 
ible in  the  view  of  such  a  plan!  If  this  be 
God's  design — proceed  it  does,  and  proceed  it 
will.  Christianity  is  such  a  holy  and  spiritual 
affair,  that  perhaps  all  human  institutions  ar 
to  be  destroyed  to  make  way  for  it.  Men  may 
fashion  things  as  they  will;  but,  if  there  is  no 
effusion  of  the  Spirit  of  God  on  their  institu- 
tions, they  will  remain  barren  and  lifeless. 
Many  Christians  appear  to  have  forgotten  this 

On  a  Christiaii's  Duty  in  these  eventful  times. 

Ours  is  a  period  of  no  common  kind.  The 
patli  of  duty  to  a  Christian  is  now  unusually 
difficult.  It  seems  to  me,  however,  to  be  com- 
prehended in  two  words — Be  quiet  and  useful. 
The  precept  is  short ;  but  the  application  of 
it  requires  much  grace  and  wisdom.  Take 
not  a  single  step  out  of  a  quiet  obscurity,  to 
which  you  are  not  compelled  by  a  sense  of 
utility. 

Two  parties  have  divided  the  world. 

The  JACOBINS  are  desperadoes : — the  earth's 
torment  and  plague.  Bishop  Horsley  said  well 
of  them  lately  from  the  pulpit — "  These  are  they 
who  have  poisoned  Watts's  Hymns  for  chil- 
dren. These  are  they  who  are  making  efforts 
to  contaminate  every  means  of  access  to  the 
public  mind.  And  what  is  their  aim? — What 
are  their  pretensions'! — That  they  will  have 
neither  Lord  nor  King  over  them.  But,  verily, 
one  is  their  King; — whose  name,  in  the  He- 
brcAV  tongue,  is  Abaddon;  but,  in  the  Greek 
tongue,  he  is  called  Apollyon;  and  in  plain 
English — '  The  Devil.''  My  soul,  come  not  thou 
near  the  tents  of  these  wicked  men !" 

"  But  the  ANTi-jAcoBiNs  ■?"  Their  project,  as 
a  body,  leaves  God  out  of  the  question.  Their 
proposal  is  unholy.  I  cannot  be  insensible  to 
the  security,  order,  and  liberty,  with  which 
these  kingdoms  are  favored  above  all  other 
nations ;  but  I  cannot  go  forth  with  these  men, 
as  one  of  their  party.  I  cannot  throw  up  my 
liat,  and  shout  "  Huzza !"  Wo  to  the  world, 
if  even  they  prevail! 

The  world  is  a  lying,  empty  pageant ;  and 
these  men  are  ensnared  with  the  show.  My 
part  in  it,  as  a  Christian,  is  to  act  with  sim- 
plicity as  the  servant  of  God.  What  does 
God' bid  me  do?  What,  in  this  minute  of  time, 
which  will  be  gone  and  carry  me  with  it  into 
eternity — what  is  my  path  of  duty?  While 
enemies  blaspheme,  and  friends  are  beguiled, 
let  me  stand  on  my  watch-tower  with  the  Pro- 
phet, listening  what  the  Lord  God  shall  say  to 
me.  In  any  scheme  of  man,  I  dare  not  be 
drunken.  We,  luho  are  of  the  day,  must  be  sober. 
Churchman  or  dissenter,  if  I  am  a  true  Chris- 
tian, I  shall  talk  thus  to  my  connexions.  The 
sentiment  of  the  multitude  is  ensnaring:  but 
the  multitude  is  generally  wrong.  I  nnist  be- 
ware of  the  contagion.  Not  that  I  am  to 
push  myself  into  consequence.  The  matter 
is  between  me  and  my  God — Not  one  step  out 
of  a  holy  quiet  and  obscurity,  but  in  order  to 
utility. 


REMAINS    OF   MR.  CECIL. 


Yet  we  must  be  active  and  bold,  whenevef 
duty  calls  us  to  be  so.  My  own  conduct,  with 
respect  to  the  religious  world,  is  too  much 
formed  on  my  feelings.  I  see  it  in  what  I 
deem  a  lamentable  state;  but  I  seem  to  say, 
"  Well !  go  on  talking,  and  mistaking,  and 
making  a  noise :  only  make  not  a  noise  here :" 
and  then  I  retire  into  my  closet,  and  shrink 
within  myself.  But  had  I  more  faith,  and  sim- 
plicity, and  love,  and  self-denial,  I  might  do 
all  I  do  in  my  present  sphere,  but  I  should 
throw  myself  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  entreat 
and  argue  and  remonstrate. 

But  then  such  a  man  must  give  himself  up 
as  a  sacrifice.  He  would  be  misrepresented 
and  calumniated  from  many  quarters.  But  he 
would  make  up  his  account  for  such  treatment. 
How  would  St.  Paul  have  acted  in  such  a  state 
of  the  church?  Would  he  not  have  displayed 
that  warm  spirit,  which  made  him  say,  O 
foolish  Galatians  I  ivho  hath  bewitched  you  J  and 
that  holy  self-denial,  which  dictated,  I  will 
very  gladly  spend  and  be  spent  for  you,  though 
the  more  exceedingly  I  looe  you,  the  less  I  be 
loved  ? 

It  is  not  to  be  calculated  how  much  a  single 
man  may  effect,  wlio  throws  his  whole  powers 
into  a  thing.  Who,  for  instance,  can  esti- 
mate the  influence  of  Voltaire  ?  He  shed  an 
influence  of  a  peculiar  sort  over  Europe.  His 
powers  were  those  of  a  gay  buffoon — far  dif- 
ferent from  those  of  Hume,  and  others  of  his 
class — but  he  tln-ew  liimself  wholly  into  them. 
It  is  true  these  men  meet  the  wickedness  or 
the  imbecility  of  the  human  mind;  but  there 
are  many  right  hearted  people,  who  hang  a 
long  time  on  the  side  of  pure,  silent,  simple 
religion.  Let  a  man,  who  sees  things  as  I  do, 
throw  himself  out  with  all  his  powers,  to 
rescue  and  guide  such  persons. 

On  Fortifying  Youth  against  Infidel  Principles. 

I  NEVER  gathered  from  infidel  writers,  when 
an  avowed  infidel  myself,  any  solid  difliculties, 
which  were  not  brought  to  my  mind  by  a  very 
young  child  of  my  own.  "  Why  was  sin  per- 
mitted V" — "  What  an  insignificant  world  is  this, 
to  be  redeemed  by  the  incarnation  and  death 
of  the  Son  of  God!" — "Who  can  believe  that 
so  few  will  be  saved?"  —  Objections  of  this 
kind,  in  the  mind  of  reasoning  young  persons, 
prove  to  me  that  they  are  the  growth  of  fallen 
nature. 

The  nurse  of  infidelity  is  sensuality.  Youth 
are  sensual.  The  Bible  stands  in  their  way. 
It  prohibits  the  indulgence  of  the  lust  of  the 
flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life. 
But  the  young  mind  loves  these  things ;  and, 
therefore,  it  hates  the  Bible  which  prohibits 
them.  It  is  prepared  to  say,  "  If  any  man  will 
bring  me  arguments  against  the  Bible,  I  will 
thank  him  :  if  not,  I  will  invent  them." 

As  to  infidel  arguments,  there  is  no  weight 
in  them.  They  are  jejune  and  refuted.  Infi- 
dels are  not  themselves  convinced  by  them. 

In  combating  this  evil  in  youth,  we  must  re- 
collect the  proverb,  that  "  a  man  may  bring  his 
horse  to  the  water,  but  cannot  make  him  drink." 
lOr  25 


The  minds  of  the  young  are  pre-occupied. 
They  will  not  listen.  Yet  a  crisis  may  come. 
They  will  stop  and  bethink  themselves. 

One  promising  method  with  them,  is,  to  ap- 
peal TO  FACTS.  What  sort  of  men  are  infi- 
dels !  They  are  loose,  fierce,  overbearing  men. 
There  is  nothing  in  them  like  sober  and  seri- 
ous inquiry.  They  are  the  wildest  fanatics  on 
earth.  Nor  have  they  agreed  among  them- 
selves on  any  scheme  of  truth  and  felicity. 
Contrast  with  the  character  of  infidels  that  of 
real  Christians. 

It  is  advantageous  to  dwell  with  youth  on 

the    NEED    AND     NECESSITIES     OF     MAN.       "  EvCry 

pang  and  grief  tells  a  man  that  he  needs  a 
helper :  but  infidelity  provides  none.  And 
what  can  its  schemes  do  for  you  in  death  1" 

Impress  them  with  a  sense  of  their  igno- 
rance. I  silence  myself,  many  times  a  day, 
by  a  sense  of  my  own  ignorance. 

Appeal  to  their  consciences.  "  Why  is  it 
that  you  listen  to  infidelity  ?  Is  not  infidelity  a 
low,  carnal,  wicked  game^  Is  it  not  the  very 
picture  of  the  Prodigal — Father,  give  me  the 
portio7i  of  goods  that  falleth  to  me  ?'"' — The  ques- 
tion why  infidelity  is  received,  exposes  it,  and 
shows  it  to  the  light.  Why — why  will  a  man 
be  an  infidel?  Your  children  may  urge  diffi- 
culties: but  tell  them  that  inexplicable  diflicul- 
ties surround  you :  you  are  compelled  to  be- 
lieve, in  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred, 
whether  you  will  or  no  ;  and  shall  ^-ou  not  be 
a  believer  in  the  hundredth  instance  from 
choice  ? 

Draw  oct  a  map  of  the  road  of  infidelity. 
It  will  lead  them  to  such  stages,  at  length,  as 
they  never  could  suspect.  Is  thy  servant  a 
dog,  that  he  should  do  this  thing? 

The  spirit  and  tone  of  your  house  will  have 
great  influence  on  your  children.  If  it  is  what 
it  ought  to  be,  it  will  often  fasten  conviction  on 
their  minds,  however  wicked  they  may  become. 
I  have  felt  the  truth  of  this  in  my  own  case  :  I 
said,  "  My  father  is  right,  and  I  am  wrong !  Oh, 
let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my 
last  end  be  like  his .'"  The  by-conversations 
in  a  family  are,  in  this  view,  of  unspeakable 
importance. 

On  the  whole,  arguments  addressed  to  the 
heart  press  more  forcibly  than  those  addressed 
to  the  head.  When  I  was  a  child,  and  a  very 
wicked  one  too,  one  of  Dr.  Watts's  Hymns 
sent  me  to  weep  in  a  corner.  The  lives  in 
Janeway's  Token  had  the  same  effect.  I  felt 
the  influence  of  faith  in  suffering  Christians. 
The  character  of  young  Samuel  came  home  to 
me,  when  nothing  else  had  any  hold  on  my  mind. 

On  the  Management  of  Children. 

Great  wisdom  is  requisite  in  correcting  the 
evils  of  children.  A  child  is  bashful,  perhaps  : 
but,  in  stimulating  this  child,  we  are  too  apt  to 
forget  future  consequences.  "  Hold  up  your 
head.  Don't  be  vulgar."  At  length  they  hold 
up  their  heads,  and  acquire  such  airs,  that,  too 
late,  we  discover  our  error.  We  forgot  that 
we  were  giving  gold,  to  purchase  dross.  We 
forgot  that  Ave  were  sacrificing  modesty  and 


-16 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


humility,  to  make  them  young  actors  and  old 

tyrants.* 

Christians  are  imbibing  so  much  of  the  cast 
and  temper  of  the  age,  that  they  seem  to  be 
anxiously  tutoring  their  children,  and  prepar- 
ing them"  by  all  manner  of  means,  not  for  a 
better  world,  but  for  the  present.  Yet  in  noth- 
ing should  the  simplicity  of  faith  be  more  un- 
reservedly exercised,  than  with  regard  to  chil- 
dren. Their  appointments  and  stations,  yea, 
even  their  present  and  eternal  happiness  or 
misery,  so  far  as  they  are  influenced  by  their 
states  and  conditions  in  life,  may  be  decided 
by  the  most  minute  and  trivial  events,  all  of 
w'hicli  are  in  God's  hand,  and  not  in  ours.  An 
unbeheving  spirit  pervades,  in  this  respect,  too 
intimately  the  Christian  world. 

When  I  meet  children  to  instruct  them,  I  do 
not  suffer  one  grown  person  to  be  present. 
The  Moravians  pursue  a  different  method. 
Some  of  their  elder  brethren  even  sit  among 
the  children,  to  sanction  and  encourage  the 
work.  This  is  well,  provided  children  are  to 
be  addressed  in  the  usual  manner.  But  that 
will  effect  little  good.  Nothing  is  easier  than 
to  talk  to  children  ;  but,  to  talk  to  them  as  they 
ought  to  be  talked  to,  is  the  very  last  effort  of 
ability.  A  man  must  have  a  vigorous  imagin- 
ation" He  must  have  extensive  knowledge,  to 
call  in  illustrations  I'rom  the  four  corners  of 
the  earth ;  for  he  will  make  little  progress,  but 
by  illustration.  It  requires  great  genius,  to 
throw  the  mind  into  the  habit  of  children's 
minds.  I  aim  at  this,  but  I  find  it  the  utmost 
effort  of  ability.  No  sermon  ever  put  my 
mind  half  so  much  on  the  stretch.     The  effort 


*  The  reader  cannot  but  admire  the  sentiments 
which  Bishop  Hurd  has,  on  this  subject,  put  into  the 
mouth  of  Air.  Locke,  one  of  his  supposed  interlocu- 
tors in  the  Dialogue  on  Foreign  Travels. 

"  Bashfulaess  is  not  so  much  the  effect  of  an  ill  edu- 
cation, as  the  proper  gift  and  provision  of  wise  nature. 
Evsry  stage  of  life  has  its  own  set  of  manners,  that  is 
suited  to  it,  and  best  becomes  it.  Each  is  beautiful  in 
its  season  ;  and  you  might  as  well  quarrel  with  the 
child's  rattle,  and  advance  him  directly  to  the  boy's  top 
and  span-farthing,  as  expect  from  diffident  youth  the 
manly  confidence  of  riper  age. 

"  Lamentable  in  the  mean  time,  I  am  sensible,  is  the 
condition  of  my  good  lady  ;  who,  especially  if  she  be 
a  mighty  well  bred  one,  is  perfectly  shocked  at  the 
boy's  awkwardness,  and  calls  out  on  the  tailor,  the 
dancing-master,  the  player,  the  travelled  tutor,  any 
body  and  every  body,  to  relieve  her  from  the  pain  of  so 
disgraceful  an  object. 

"  She  should,  however,  be  told,  if  a  proper  season 
and  words  sofi  enough  could  be  found  to  convey  the 
information,  that  the  odious  thing  which  disturbs  lier 
80  much,  is  one  of  nature's  signatures  impressed  on 
that  age  ;  that  bashfulness  is  but  the  passage  from  one 
season  of  life  to  another  ;  and  that  as  the  body  is  then 
the  least  grafeful,  when  the  limbs  are  making  their 
last  efforts  and  hastening  to  their  just  proportion,  so 
the  manners  are  least  easy  and  disengaged,  when  the 
mind,  conscious  and  impatient  of  its  perfections,  is 
stretching  all  its  faculties  to  their  full  growth." 

See  Bishop  Kurd's  Moral  and  Pohtical  Dialocrues, 
Ed.  6th. 

Lend.  1788,  vol.  3.  pp.  99,  100,  101.         J.  P. 


'  is  such,  that,  were  one  person  present,  who 
j  was  capable  of  weighing  the  propriety  of  what 
J I  said,  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  pro- 
ceed:  the  mind  must,  in  such  a  case,  be  perfect- 
ly at  its  ease  :  it  must  not  have  to  exert  itself 
under  cramps  and  fetters.  I  am  surprised  at 
nothing  which  Dr.  Watts  did,  but  his  Hymns 
for  Children.  Other  men  could  have  written 
;  as  well  as  he,  in  his  other  works  :  but  how  he 
I  wrote  these  hymns,  I  know  not.  Stories  fix 
children's  attention.  The  moment  I  begin  to 
talk  in  any  thing  like  an  abstract  manner,  the 
!  attention  subsides.  The  simplest  manner  in 
I  the  world   will  not   make  way  to  children's 

I  minds  for  abstract  truths.     With  stories  I  find 

I I  could  rivet  their  attention  for  two  or  three 
I  hours. 

Children  are  very  early  cipable  of  impres- 
I  sion.     I  imprinted  on  my  daughter  the  idea  of 
\  faith,  at  a  very  early  age.     She  was  playing 
one  day  with  a  few  beads,  which  seemed  to 
delight  her  wonderfully.     Her  whole  soul  was 
absorbed   in  her  beads.     I  said — "  My  dear, 
i  you  have  some  pretty  beads  there." — "  Yes, 
i  Papa!" — "And  you  seem  to  be  vastly  pleased 
with   them." — "Yes,   Papa!" — "Well   now, 
throw  'em  behind  the  fire."     The  tears  started 
into  her  eyes.     She  looked  earnestly  at  me, 
I  as  though  she  ought  to  have  a  reason  for  such 
;  a  cruel  sacrifice.     "  Well,  my  dear,  do  as  you 
I  please :  but  you  know  I  never  told  you  to  do 
j  any  thing,  which  I  did  not  think  would  be  good 
for  you."     She  looked  at  me  a  few  moments 
j  longer,  and  then — summoning  up  all  her  forti- 
I  tude — her  breast  heaving  with  the  effort — she 
I  dashed  them  into  the  fire. — "Well,"  said  I; 
"  there  let  them  lie,  you  shall  hear  more  about 
I  them   another  time ;  but  say  no  more  about 
them  now."     Some  days  after,  I  bought  her  a 
!  box  full  of  larger  beads,  and  toys  of  the  same 
kind.     When  I  returned  home,  I  opened  the 
treasure  and  set  it  before  her :  she  burst  into 
tears  with  ecstasy.     "  Those,  my  child,"  said  I, 
"are  yours:  because  you  believed  me,  when 
I  told  you  it  would  be  better  for  you  to  throw 
those  two  or  three  paltry  beads  behind  the  fire. 
Now  that  has  brought  you  this  treasure.     But 
now,  my  dear,  remember,  as  long  as  you  live, 
what  Faith  is.     I  did  ail  this  to  teach  you  the 
meaning  of  Faith.     You   threw  your  beads 
away  when  I  bade  you,  because  you  had  faith 
in  me,  that  I  never  advised  you  but  for  your 
good.     Put  the  same  confidence  in  God.     Be- 
lieve every  thing  that  he  says  in  his  word. 
Whether  you  understand  it  or  not,  have  faith 
in  him  that  he  means  your  good." 


On  Family  Worship. 

Family  religion  is  of  unspeakable  import- 
ance. Its  effect  will  greatly  depend  on  the 
sincerity  of  the  head  of  the  family,  and  on  his 
mode  oi'  conducting  the  worship  of  his  house- 
hold. If  his  children  and  servants  do  not  see 
his  prayers  exemplified  in  his  tempers  and 
manners,  they  will  be  disgusted  with  religion. 
Tediousness  will  weary  them.  Fine  language 
will  shoot  about  them.     Formality  of  connex- 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


47 


ion  or  composition  in  praj'er  they  will  not  com- 
prehend. Gloominess  or  austerity  of  devotion 
will  make  them  dread  religion  as  a  hard  ser- 
vice. Let  them  be  met  with  smiles.  Let  them 
be  met  as  for  the  most  delightful  service  in 
which  they  can  be  engaged.  Let  them  find  it 
short,  savory,  simple,  plain,  tender,  heavenly. 
Worship,  thus  conducted,  may  be  used  as  an  en- 
gine of  vast  power  in  a  family.  It  diffuses  a 
sympathy  through  the  members.  It  calls  off 
the  mind' from  the  deadening  effect  of  worldly 
affairs.  It  arrests  every  member,  with  a 
morning  and  evening  sermon,  in  the  midst  of 
all  the  hurries  and  cares  of  life.  It  says, 
"  There  is  a  God  !" — "  There  is  a  spiritual 
world  !" — "  There  is  a  life  to  come  I"  It  fixes 
the  idea  of  responsibility  in  the  mind.  It  fur- 
nishes a  tender  and  judicious  father  or  master 
with  an  opportunity  of  gently  glancing  at 
faults,  where  a  direct  admonition  might  be 
inexpedient.  It  enables  him  to  relieve  the 
weight  with  which  subordination  or  service 
often  sits  on  the  minds  of  inferiors. 

In  my  family  worship,  I  am  not  the  reader, 
but  employ  one  of  my  children.  I  make  no 
formal  comment  on  the  Scripture  :  but,  when 
any  striking  event  or  sentiment  arises,  I  say, 
"  Mark  that !" — '•  See  how  God  judges  of  that 
thing!"  Sometimes  I  ask  what  they  think  of 
the  matter,  and  how  such  a  thing  strikes  them. 
I  generally  receive  very  strange,  and  some- 
times ridiculous  answers :  but  I  am  pleased 
with  them :  attention  is  all  alive,  while  I  am 
explaining  wherein  they  err,  and  what  is  the 
truth.  In  this  manner  I  endeavor  to  impress 
the  spirit  and  scope  of  the  passage  on  the 
family. 

I  particularly  aim  at  the  eradication  of  a 
false  principle,  w^onderfuUy  interwoven  with 
the  minds  of  children  and  servants  ;  they  take 
their  standard  from  the  neighborhood  and  their 
acquaintance,  and  by  this  they  judge  of  every 
thing.  I  endeavor  to  raise  them  to  a  persua- 
sion that  God's  will  in  Scripture  is  the  stand- 
ard ;  and  that  this  standard  is  perpetually  in 
opposition  to  that  corrupt  one  around  and 
before  them. 

The  younger  children  of  the  family  will 
soon  have  discernment  enough  to  perceive 
that  the  Bible  has  a  holiness  about  it,  that 
runs  directly  contrary  to  the  stream  of  opin- 
ion. And  then,  because  this  character  is  so 
evident,  and  so  inseparable  from  the  Scripture, 
the  heart  will  distaste  and  reject  it.  Yet  the 
standard  must  be  preserved.  If  a  man  should 
lower  it,  they  would  soon  detect  him ;  and  he 
must,  after  all,  raise  them  up  to  the  right 
standard  again.  Much  may  be  effected  by 
manner,  as  to  impressing  truth ;  but  still, 
truth  will  remain  irksome,  till  God  touch  the 
heart. 

I  read  the  Scriptures  to  my  family  in  some 
regular  order :  and  am  pleased  to  have  thus  a 
lesson  found  for  me,  I  look  on  the  chapter  of 
the  day  as  a  lesson  sent  for  that  day  ;  and  so 
I  regard  it  as  coming  from  God  for  the  use  of 
that  day,  and  not  of  my  own  seeking. 

I  find  it  easy  to  keep  up  the  attention  of  a 
congregation,  in  comparison  of  that  of  my 


family.  I  have  found  the  attention  best  gained 
by  bringing  the  truths  of  Scripture  into  com- 
parison with  the  facts  which  are  before  our 
eyes.  It  puts  more  stimuli  into  family  expo- 
sitions. I  never  found  a  fact  lost,  or  the  cur- 
rent news  of  the  day  fail  of  arresting  the  at- 
tention. "  How  does  the  Bible  account  for 
that  fact  ] — That  man  murdered  his  father — 
This  or  that  thing  happened  in  our  house  to- 
day— What  does  the  Scripture  say  of  such 
things  V 

It  is  difficult  to  fix  and  quiet  your  family. 
The  servants  are  eager  to  be  gone,  to  do  some- 
thing in  hand.  There  has  been  some  disagree- 
ment, perhaps,  between  them  and  their  mis- 
tress. We  must  seize  opportunities.  We 
must  not  drive  hard  at  such  times  as  these. 
Regularity,  however,  must  be  enforced.  If  a 
certain  hour  is  not  fixed  and  adhered  to,  the 
family  will  inevitably  be  found  in  confusion. 

Religion  should  be  prudently  brought  before 
a  family.  The  old  Dissenters  wearied  their 
families.  Jacob  reasoned  well  v.'ith  Esau, 
about  the  tenderness  of  his  children,  and  his 
flocks  and  herds.  Something  gentle,  quiet, 
moderate,  should  be  our  aim.  There  should 
be  no  scolding :  it  should  be  mild  and  pleasant. 

I  avoid  absolute  uniformity:  the  mind  re- 
volts at  it :  though  I  would  shun  eccentricity, 
for  that  is  still  worse.  At  one  time  I  would 
say  something  on  what  is  read :  but,  at  ano- 
ther time,  nothing.  I  inake  it  as  natural  as 
possible  :  "  I  am  a  religious  man  :  you  are  my 
children  and  my  servants  :  it  is  natural  that 
we  should  do  so  and  so." 

Nothing  of  superstition  should  attach  to 
family  duty.  It  is  not  absolutely  and  in  all 
cases  indispensable.  If  unavoidably  inter- 
rupted, we  omit  it :  it  is  well.  If  I  were  pe- 
remptorily ordered,  as  the  Jews  were,  to  bring 
a  lamb,  I  must  be  absolute.  But  this  service 
is  my  liberty,  not  my  task.  I  do  not,  how- 
ever, mean  in  any  degree  to  relax  the  proper 
obligation. 

Children  and  servants  should  see  us  acting 
on  the  Psalmist's  declaration,  /  loill  speak  of 
thy  testimony  before  Kings.  If  a  great  man 
happen  to  be  present,  let  them  see  that  I  deem 
him  nothing  before  the  word  of  God ! 


On  the  Influence  of  the  Parental  Character. 

The  influence  of  the  parent.^I  character  on 
children  is  not  to  be  calculated.  Everything 
around  has  an  influence  on  us.  Indeed,  the 
influence  of  things  is  so  great,  that,  by  fami- 
liarity with  them,  they  insensibly  urge  us  on 
principles  and  feelings  wiiich  we  before  ab- 
horred. I  knew  a  man  who  took  in  a  demo- 
cratical  paper,  only  to  laugh  at  it.  But  at 
length,  he  had  read  the  same  things  again  and 
ajain,  so  often,  that  he  began  to  think  there 
must  he  some  truth  in  them,  and  that  men  and 
meas!n-es  were  really  such  as  they  were  so 
often  said  to  be.  A  drop  of  water  seems  to 
have  no  influence  on  the  stone ;  but  it  will,  in 
the  end,  wear  its  way  through.  If  there  be, 
therefore,  such  a  mighty  influence  in  every 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


thing  around  us,  the  parental  influence  must 
be  great  indeed. 

Consistency  is  the  great  character,  in  good 
parents,  which  impresses  children.  They  may 
witness  much  temper;  but  if  they  see  their 
father  "  keep  tlie  even  tenor  of  his  way,"  his 
imperfections  will  be  understood  and  allowed 
for,  as  reason  opens.  The  child  will  see  and 
reflect  on  his  parent's  intention :  and  this  will 
have  great  influence  on  his  mind.  This  in- 
fluence may,  indeed,  be  afterward  counter- 
acted :  but  that  only  proves  that  contrary  cur- 
rents may  arise,  and  carry  the  child  another 
way.  Old  Adam  may  be  too  strong  for  young 
Meiancthon. 

The  implantation  of  principles  is  of  un- 
speakable importance,  especially  when  culled 
from  time  to  time  out  of  the  Bible.  The  child 
feels  his  parent's  authority  supported  by  the 
Bible,  and  the  authority  of  the  Bible  supported 
by  his  parent's  weight  and  influence.  Here 
are  data — fixed  data.  A  man  can  very  seldom 
get  rid  of  these  principles.  They  stand  in  his 
way.  He  wishes  to  forget  them,  perhaps ;  but 
it  is  impossible. 

Where  parental  influence  does  not  convert, 
it  hampers.  It  hangs  on  the  wheels  of  evil. 
I  had  a  pious  mother,  who  dropped  things  in 
my  way.  I  could  never  rid  myself  of  them. 
I  was  a  professed  infidel :  but  then  I  liked  to 
be  an  infidel  in  company,  rather  than  when 
alone.  I  was  wretched  when  by  myself. 
These  principles,  and  maxims,  and  data  spoil- 
ed my  jollity.  With  my  companions  I  could 
sometimes  stifle  them  :  "like  embers,  we  kept 
one  another  warm.  Besides,  I  was  here  a 
sort  of  hero.  I  had  beguiled  several  of  my 
associates  into  my  own  opinions,  and  had  to 
maintain  a  character  before  them.  But  I  could 
not  divest  myself  of  my  better  principles.  I 
went  with  one  of  my  companions  to  see  "  The 
Minor."  He  could  laugh  heartily  at  mother 
Cole — I  could  not.  He  saw  in  her  tlie  picture 
of  all  who  talked  about  religion— I  knew  bet- 
ter. The  ridicule  on  regeneration  was  high 
sport  to  him — to  me,  it  was  none :  it  could 
not  move  my  features.  He  knew  no  diff'er- 
ence  between  regeneration  and  transubstan- 
tiation — I  did.  I  knew  there  was  such  a 
thing.  I  was  afraid  and  ashamed  to  laugh  at 
it.  Parental  influence  thus  cleaves  to  a  man  : 
it  harasses  him — it  throws  itself  continually 
in  his  way. 

I  find  in  myself  another  evidence  of  the 
greatness  of  parental  influence.  I  detect  my- 
self, to  this  day,  m  laying  down  maxims  in  my 
family,  which  I  took  up  at  three  or  four  years 
of  age,  before  I  could  possibly  know  the  reason 
of  the  thing. 

It  is  of  incalculable  importance  to  obtain  a 
hold  on  the  conscience.  Children  have  a  con- 
science ;  and  it  is  not  seared,  though  it  is  evil. 
Bringing  the  eternal  world  into  t\ieir  view- 
planning  and  acting  with  that  world  before  us 
—this  gains,  at  length,  such  a  hold  on  them, 
that,  with  all  the  infidel  poison  which  they 
may  afterward  imbibe,  there  are  few  children 
who,  at  night— in  their  chamber — in  the  dark 
— in  a  storm  of  thunder— will  riot  feel.     They 


cannot  cheat  like  other  men.  They  recollect 
that  ETERNITY,  whlch  stands  in  their  way.  It 
rises  up  before  them,  like  the  ghost  of  Banquo 
to  Macbeth.  It  goads  them :  it  thunders  in 
their  ears.  After  all,  they  are  obliged  to  com- 
pound the  matter  with  conscience,  if  they 
cannot  be  prevailed  on  to  return  to  God  with- 
out delay : — "  I  must  be  religious,  one  time  or 
other.  That  is  clear.  I  cannot  get  rid  of  this 
thing.  Well!  I  will  begin  at  such  a  time.  I 
will  finish  such  a  scheme,  and  then  !" 

The  opinions — the  spirit — the  conversation 
— the  manners  of  the  parent,  influence  the 
child.  Whatever  sort  of  man  he  is,  such,  in 
a  great  degree,  will  be  the  child  ;  unless  con- 
stitution or  accident  give  him  another  turn. 
If  the  parent  is  a  fantastic  man — if  he  is  a 
genealogist,  knows  nothing  but  who  married 
such  an  one,  and  who  married  such  an  one — 
if  he  is  a  sensualist,  a  low  wretch — his  chil- 
dren will  usually  catch  these  tastes.  If  he  is 
a  literary  man — his  very  girls  will  talk  learn- 
edly. If  he  is  a  griping,  hard,  miserly  man — 
such  will  be  his  children.  This  I  speak  of  as 
GENERALLY  thc  case.  It  may  happen,  that  the 
parent's  disposition  may  have  no  ground  to 
work  on  in  that  of  the  child.  It  may  happen, 
that  the  child  may  be  driven  into  disgust :  the  • 
miser,  for  instance,  often  implants  disgust,  and 
his  son  becomes  a  spendthrift. 

After  all,  in  some  cases,  perhaps,  every 
thing  seems  to  have  been  done  and  exhibited 
by  the  pious  parent  in  vain.  Yet  he  casts  his 
bread  upon  the  waters.  And,  perhaps,  after  he 
has  been  in  his  grave  twenty  years,  his  son 
remembers  what  his  father  told  him. 

Besides,  parental  influence  must  be  great, 
because  God  has  said  that  it  shall  be  so.  The 
parent  is  not  to  stand  reasoning  and  calcu- 
lating. God  has  said  that  his  character  shall 
have  influence. 

And  this  appointment  of  Proviaence  be- 
comes often  the  punishment  of  a  wicked  man. 
Such  a  man  is  a  complete  selfist.  I  am 
weary  of  hearing  such  men  talk  about  their 
"  family"— and  their  "family" — they  "must 
provide  for  their  family."  Their  family  has 
no  place  in  their  real  regard.  They  pusli 
for  themselves.  But  God  says—"  No  !  You 
think  your  children  shall  be  so  and  so.  But 
they  shall  be  rods  for  your  own  backs.  They 
shall  be  your  curse.  They  shall  rise  up  against 
you."  The  most  common  of  all  human  com- 
plaints is — Parents  groaning  under  the  vices 
of  their  children  !  This  is  all  the  efl'ect  of 
parental  influence. 

In  the  exercise  of  this  influence  there  are 
two  leading  dangers  to  be  avoided. 

Excess  of  SEVERITY  is  one  danger.  My  mo- 
ther, on  the  contrary,  would  talk  to  me,  and 
weep  as  she  talked.  I  flung  out  of  the  house 
with  an  oath — but  wept  too  when  I  got  into 
the  street.  Sympathy  is  the  powerful  engine 
of  a  mother.  I  was  desperate — I  would  go  on 
board  of  a  privateer.  But  there  are  soft  mo- 
ments to  such  desperadoes.  God  does  not,  at 
once,  abandon  them  to  themselves.  There 
are  times  when  the  man  says — "I  should  be 
glad  to  return,  but  I  should  not  like  to  meet 


REMAINS    OF   MR.    CECIL. 


49 


that  face!"   if  he  has  been  treated  with  se- 
verity. 

Yet  excess  of  laxity  is  another  danger. 
The  case  of  Eli  affords  a  serious  warning  on 
this  subject.  Instead  of  his  mild  expostula- 
tion on  the  flagrant  wickedness  of  his  sons — 
Nay,  ?ny  sons,  it  is  no  good  report  that  I  hear — 
he  ought  to  have  exercised  his  authority  as  a 
parent  and  magistrate  in  punishing  and  restrain- 
ing their  crimes. 

Remarks  on  Authors. 

Whkn  I  look  at  the  mind  of  Lord  Bacon — 
it  seems  vast,  original,  penetrating,  analogical, 
beyond  all  competition.  When  I  look  at  his 
character — it  is  wavering,  shuffling,  mean.  In 
the  closing  scene,  and  in  that  only,  he  appears 
in  true  dignity,  as  a  man  of  profound  contrition. 

Baxter  surpasses,  perhaps,  all  others,  in  the 
grand,  impressive,  and  persuasive  style.  But 
he  is  not  to  be  named  with  Owen,  as  to  fur- 
nishing the  student's  mind.  He  is,  however, 
multifarious,  complex,  practical. 

Clarke  has,  above  all  other  men,  the  faculty 
of  lowering  the  life  and  spiritual  sense  of 
Scripture  to  such  perfection,  as  to  leave  it  like 
dry  bones,  divested  of  every  particle  of  mar- 
row or  oil.  South  is  nearer  the  truth.  He 
tells  more  of  it:  but  he  tells  it  with  the  tongue 
of  a  viper,  for  he  was  most  bitterly  set  against 
the  puritans.  But  there  is  a  spirit  and  life 
about  him.  He  must  and  will  be  heard.  And 
now  and  then,  he  darts  on  us  with  an  unex- 
pected and  incomparable  stroke. 

The  modern  German  writers,  and  the  whole 
school  formed  after  them,  systematically  and 
intentionally  confound  vice  and  virtue,  and 
argue  for  the  passions  against  the  morals  and 
institutions  of  society.  There  never  was  a 
more  dangerous  book  written,  than  one  that 
Mrs.  Wolstoncraft  left  imperfect,  but  which 
Mr.  Godwin  published  after  her  death.  Her 
"  Wrongs  of  Women  "  is  an  artful  apology  for 
adultery:  she  labors  to  interest  the  feelings  in 
favor  of  an  adulteress,  by  making  her  crime 
the  consequence  of  the  barbarous  conduct  of 
a  despicable  husband,  while  she  is  painted  all 
softness  and  sensibility.  Nothing  like  this  was 
ever  attempted  before  the  modern  school. 

"  Some  men,"'  says  Dr.  Patten  to  me,  "  are 
always  crying  fire!  lire!"  To  be  sure — where 
there  is  danger,  there  ought  to  be  affec- 
tionate earnestness.  Who  would  remonstrate, 
coldly  and  with  indifference,  with  a  man  about 
to  precipitate  himself  from  Dover  Cliff,  and 
not  rather  snatch  him  forcibly  from  destruc- 
tion? Truth,  in  its  living  influence  on  the 
heart,  will  show  itself  in  consecratedness  and 
holy  zeal.  When  teachers  of  religion  are  des- 
titute of  these  qualities,  the  world  readily  in- 
fers that  religion  itself  is  a  farce.  Let  us  do 
the  world  justice.  It  has  very  seldom  found 
a  considerate,  accommodating,  and  gentle,  but 
witlial    earnest,    heavenly,    and    enlightened 


teacher.  When  it  has  found  such,  truth  has 
received  a  very  general  attention.  Such  a 
man  was  Hervey,  and  his  works  have  met 
their  reward. 

Homer  approaches  nearest  of  all  the  hea- 
then poets  to  the  grandeur  of  Hebrew  poetry. 
With  the  theological  light  of  Scripture,  he 
would  have  wonderfully  resembled  it. 

Hooker  is  incomparable  in  strength  and 
sanctity.  His  first  books  are  wonderful.  I 
do  not  so  perfectly  meet  him,  as  he  advances 
toward  the  close. 

Loskiel"s  "  Account  of  the  Moravian  Mis- 
sions among  the  North  American  Indians"  has 
taught  me  two  things.  I  have  found  in  it  a 
striking  illustration  of  the  uniformity  with  which 
the  grace  of  God  operates  on  men.  Crantz,  in 
his  ''Account  of  the  Missions  in  Greenland," 
had  shown  the  grace  of  God  working  on  a  man- 
fish  :  on  a  stupid,  sottish,  senseless  creature 
— scarcely  a  remove  from  the  fish  on  which 
he  lived.  Loskiel  shows  the  same  grace  work- 
ing on  a  man-devil:  a  fierce,  bloody,  re- 
vengeful Avarrior — dancing  his  infernal  Avar- 
dance  with  the  mind  of  a  fury.  Divine  grace 
brings  these  men  to  the  same  point.  It 
quickens,  stimulates,  and  elevates  the  Green- 
lander:  it  raises  him  to  a  sort  of  new  life:  it 
seems  almost  to  bestow  on  him  new  senses  : 
it  opens  his  eye,  and  bends  his  ear,  and  rouses 
the  heart:  and  what  it  adds — it  sanctifies. 
The  same  grace  tames  the  high  spirit  of  the 
Indian :  it  reduces  him  to  the  meekness,  and 
docility,  and  simplicity  of  a  child.  The  evi- 
dence "arising  to  Christianity  from  these  facts 
is,  perhaps,  seldom  sufficient,  by  itself,  to  con- 
vince the  gainsay er :  but,  to  a  man  who  already 
believes,"it  greatly  strengthens  the  reasons  of 
his  belief.  I  have  seen  also  in  these  books, 
that  the  fish-boat,  and  the  oil,  and  the  toma- 
hawk, and  the  cap  of  feathers  excepted,  a 
Christian  minister  has  to  deal  ivith  just  the  same 
sort  of  creatures  as  the  Greenlander  and  the  In- 
dian, among  civilized  nations. 

Owen  stands  at  the  head  of  his  class  of 
divines.  His  scholars  will  be  more  profound 
and  enlarged,  and  better  furnished,  than  those 
of  most  other  writers.  His  work  on  the  Spirit 
has  been  my  treasure-house  and  one  of  my 
very  first  rate  books.  Such  writers  as  Ric- 
CALTOUN  rather  disqualify  than  prepare  a  minis- 
ter for  the  immediate  business  of  the  pulpit. 
Original  and  profound  thinkers  enlarge  his 
views,  and  bring  into  exercise  the  powers  and 
energies  of  his  own  mind,  and  shoidd  there- 
fore be  his  daily  companions.  Their  matter 
must,  however,  be  ground  down  before  it  will 
be  fit  for  the  pulpit.  Such  writers  as  Owen, 
who,  though  less  original,  have  united  detail 
with  wisdom,  are  copious  in  proper  topics,  and 
in  matter  belter  prepared  for  immediate  use, 
and  in  furniture  ready  finished,  as  it  were,  for 
the  mind. 

Palev  is  an  unsound  casuist,  and  is  likely  to 


50 


do  great  injury  to  morals.  His  extenuation  of 
the  crimes  committed  by  an  intoxicated  man, 
for  instance,  is  fallacious  and  dangerous. 
Multiply  the  crime  of  intoxication  into  the  con- 
sequences that  follow  from  it,  and  you  have  the 
sum  total  of  the  guilt  of  a  drunken  man. 

Rutherford's  Letters  is  one  of  my  classics. 
Were  truth  the  beam,  I  have  no  doubt,  that  if 
Homer  and  Virgil  and  Horace,  and  all  that 
the  world  has  agreed  to  idolize,  were  weighed 
against  that  book,  they  would  be  lighter  than 
vanity.  He  is  a  real  original.  There  are  in 
his  letters  some  inexpressibly  forcible  and 
arresting  remonstrances  with  unconverted 
men. 

I  SHOULD  not  recommend  a  young  minister 
to  pay  much  deference  to  the  iScoxcH  Divines. 
The  Erskiucs,  who  were  the  best  of  them,  are 
dry,  and  labored,  and  prolix,  and  wearisome. 
He  may  find  incomparable  matter  in  them, 
but  he  should  beware  of  forming  his  taste  and 
manuer  after  their  model.  I  want  a  more  kind- 
hearted  and  liberal  sort  of  divinity.  He  had 
much  better  take  up  Bishop  Hall.  There  is  a 
set  of  excellent,  but  Avrong-headed  men,  who 
would  reform  the  London  preachers  on  a  more 
elaborate  plan.  They  are  not  philosophers 
who  talk  thus.  If  Owen  himself  were  to  rise 
from  the  grave,  unless  it  were  for  the  influence 
of  the  great  name  which  he  would  bring  with 
him,  he  might  close  his  days  with  a  small  con- 
gregation, in  some  little  meeting-house. 

Shakspeare  had  a  low  and  licentious  taste. 
When  he  chose  to  imagine  a  virtuous  and 
exalted  character,  he  would  completely  throw 
his  mind  into  it,  and  give  the  perfect  picture 
of  such  a  character-.  But  he  is  at  home  in 
Falstaff.  No  high,  grand,  virtuous,  religious 
aim  beams  forth  in  him.  A  man,  whose  heart 
and  taste  arc  modelled  on  the  Bible,  nauseates 
him  in  tlie  mass,  while  he  is  enraptured  and 
astonished  by  the  flashes  of  his  pre-eminent 
genius. 

"  Have  you  read  my  Key  to  the  Romans?" 
said  Dr.  Tavlor,  of  Norwich,  to  Mr.  New- 
ton.—" I  have  turned  it  over." — "  You  have 
turned  it  over!  And  is  this  the  treatment  a 
book  must  meet  with,  which  has  cost  me  many 
years  of  hard  study  ?  Must  I  be  told,  at  last, 
that  you  have  '  turned  it  over,'  and  then  thrown 
it  aside]  You  ought  to  have  read  it  carefully, 
and  weighed  deliberately  what  comes  forward 
on  so  serious  a  subject." — "Hold!  You  have 
cut  me  out  full  employment,  if  my  life  were 
to  be  as  long  as  Methuselah's.  I  have  some- 
what else  to  do  in  the  short  day  allotted  me,  than 
to  read  whatever  any  one  may  think  it  his  duty 
to  write.  When  I  read,  I  wish  to  read  to  good 
purpose;  and  there  are  some  books,  which 
contradict  on  the  very  face  of  them  what  ap- 
pear to  me  to  be  first  principles.  You  surely 
will  not  say  I  am  bound  to  read  such  books. 
If  a  man  tells  me  he  has  a  very  elaborate  argu- 
ment to  prove  that  two  and  two  make  five,  I 
have  something  else  to  do  than  to  attend  to 


REMAINS    OP   MR.  CECIL. 


this  argument.  If  I  find  the  first  mouthful  of 
meat  which  I  take  from  a  fine  looking  joint  on 
my  table  is  tainted,  I  need  not  eat  through  it 
to  be  convinced  I  ought  to  send  it  away." 

I  NEVER  read  any  sermons  so  much  like 
Whitefield's  manner  of  preaching  as  Lati- 
mer's.— You  see  a  simple  mind  uttering  all  its 
feelings;  and  putting  forth  every  thing  as  it 
comes,  without  any  reference  to  books  or  men, 
with  a  naivete  seldom  equalled. 

I  admired  Witsius's  "  Economy  of  the  Co- 
venants," but  not  so  much  as  many  persons. 
— There  is  too  much  system.  I  used  to  study 
commentators  and  systems;  but  I  am  come 
almost  wholly,  at  length,  to  the  Bible.  Com- 
mentators are  excellent  in  general,  where  there 
are  but  few  difliculties:  but  they  leave  the 
harder  knot  still  untied.  I  find  in  the  Bible, 
the  more  I  read,  a  grand  peculiarity,  that 
seems  to  say  to  all  who  attempt  to  system- 
atize it,  "I  am  not  of  your  kind.  I  am  not 
amenable  to  your  methods  of  thinking.  I  am 
untractable  in  your  hand.  I  stand  alone. 
The  great  and  wise  shall  never  exhaust  my 
treasures.  —  By  figures  and  parables  I  will 
come  down  to  the  feelings  and  understand- 
ings of  the  ignorant.  Leave  me  as  I  am,  but 
study  me  incessantly."  Calvin's  Institutes 
are,  to  be  sure,  great  and  admirable,  and  so 
are  his  Commentaries;  but  after  all,  if  we 
must  have  commentators  —  as  we  certainly 
must — Pool  is  incomparable,  and  I  had  almost 
said  abundant  of  himself. 

Young  is,  of  all  other  men,  one  of  the  most 
striking  examples  of  the  disunion  of  piety 
from  truth.  If  we  read  his  most  true,  impas- 
sioned, and  impressive  estimate  of  the  world 
and  of  religion,  we  shall  think  it  impossible 
that  he  was  uninfluenced  by  his  subject.  It 
is,  however,  a  melancholy  fact,  that  he  was 
hunting  after  preferment  at  eighty  years  old ; 
and  felt  and  spoke  like  a  disappointed  man. 
The  truth  was  pictured  on  his  mind  in  most 
vivid  colors.  He  felt  it,  while  he  was  writing. 
He  felt  himself  on  a  retired  spot :  and  he  saw 
death,  the  mighty  hunter,  pursuing  the  un- 
thinking world.  He  saw  redemption — its  ne- 
cessity and  its  grandeur ;  and  while  he  looked 
on  it,  he  spoke  as  a  man  would  speak  whose 
mind  and  heart  are  deeply  engaged.  Not- 
withstanding all  this,  the  view  did  not  reach 
his  heart.  Had  I  preached  in  his  pulpit  with 
the  fervor  and  interest  that  his  "  Night 
Thoughts"  discover,  he  would  have  been 
terrified.  He  told  a  friend  of  mine,  who 
went  to  him  under  religious  fears,  that  he 

must  GO  MORE  into  THE   WORLD  ! 


ON  THE  SCRIPTURES. 

Miscellaneous  Remarks  on  the  Scriptures, 

I  AM  an  entire  disciple  of  Butler.  He  calls 
his  book  "  Analogy ;"  but  the  great  subject, 
from  beginning  to  end,  is  human  ignorance. 
Berkeley  has  done  much  to  reduce  man  to  a 
right  view  of  his  attainments  in  real  know- 


REMAINS    OF   MR.  CECIL. 


51 


ledge ;  but  he  goes  too  far :  he  requires  a 
demonstration  of  self-evident  truths :  he  re- 
quires me  to  demonstrate  that  that  table  is 
before  me.  Beattie  has  well  replied  to  this 
error,  in  his  "  Immutability  of  Truth ;"  though 
it  pleased  Mr.  Hume  to  call  that  book — "  Phi- 
losophy for  the  Ladies." 

Metaphysicians  seem  born  to  puzzle  and 
confound  mankind.  I  am  surprised  to  hear 
men  talk  of  their  having  demonstrated  such 
and  such  points.  Even  Andrew  Baxter,  one 
of  the  best  of  these  metaphysicians,  though 
he  reasons  and  speculates  well,  has  not  de- 
monstrated to  my  mind  one  single  point  by 
his  reasonings.  They  know  nothing  at  all  on 
the  subject  of  moral  and  religious  truth,  be- 
yond what  God  has  revealed.  I  am  so  deeply 
convinced  of  this,  that  I  can  sit  by  and  smile 
at  the  fancies  of  these  men ;  and  especially 
when  they  fancy  they  have  found  out  demon- 
strations. Why,  there  are  demonstrators, 
who  will  carry  the  world  before  them ;  till 
another  man  rises,  who  demonstrates  the  very 
opposite,  and  then,  of  course,  the  world  follows 
him ! 

We  are  mere  mites  creeping  on  the  earth, 
and  oftentimes  conceited  mites  too.  If  any 
superior  being  will  condescend  to  visit  us  and 
teach  us,  something  may  be  known.  "  Has 
God  spoken  to  man!"  This  is  the  most  im- 
portant question  that  can  be  asked.  All  min- 
isters should  examine  this  matter  to  the  foun- 
dation. Many  are  culpably  negligent  herein. 
But,  when  this  has  been  done,  let  there  be  no 
more  questionings  and  surmises.  My  son  is 
not,  perhaps,  convinced  that  I  am  entitled  to 
be  his  teacher.  Let  us  try.  If  he  finds  that 
he  knows  more  than  I  do — well :  if  he  finds 
that  he  knows  nothing,  and  submits — I  am  not 
to  renew  this  conviction  in  his  mind  every 
time  he  chooses  to  require  me  to  do  so. 

If  any  honest  and  benevolent  man  felt  scru- 
ples in  his  breast  concerning  Revelation,  he 
would  hide  them  there ;  and  would  not  move 
wretched  men  from  the  only  support  which 
they  can  have  in  this  world.  I  am  thoroughly 
convinced  of  the  want  of  real  integrity  and 
benevolence  in  all  infidels.  And  I  am  as  tho- 
roughly convinced  of  the  want  of  real  belief 
of  the  Scriptures  in  most  of  those  who  profess 
to  believe  them. 

Metaphysicians  can  unsettle  things,  but 
they  can  erect  nothing.  They  can  pull  down 
a  church,  but  they  cannot  build  a  hovel.  The 
Hutchinsonians  have  said  the  best  things  about 
the  metaphysicians.  I  am  no  Hutchinsonian  ; 
yet  I  see  that  they  have  data,  and  that  there 
is  something  worth  proving  in  what  they 
assert. 

Principle  is  to  be  distinguished  from  pre- 
judice. The  man  who  should  endeavor  to 
weaken  my  belief  of  the  truth  of  the  Bible, 
and  of  the  fair  deduction  from  it  of  the  lead- 
ing doctrines  of  religion,  under  the  notion  of 
their  being  prejudices,  should  be  regarded  by 
me  as  an  assassin.  He  stabs  me  in  my  dear- 
est hopes :  he  robs  me  of  my  solid  happiness  ; 
and  he  has  no  eauivalent  to  offer.     This  spe- 1 


cies  of  evidence  of  the  truth  and  value  of 
Scripture  is  within  the  reach  of  all  men.  It 
is  my  strongest.  It  assures  me  as  fully  as  a 
voice  could  from  heaven,  that  my  principles 
are  not  prejudices.  I  see  in  the  Bible  my 
heart  and  the  world  painted  to  the  life ;  and  I 
see  just  that  provision  made,  which  is  compe- 
tent to  the  highest  ends  and  effects  on  this 
heart  and  this  world. 

The  Bible  resembles  an  extensive  and 
highly  cultivated  garden,  where  there  is  a 
vast  variety  and  profusion  of  fruits  and  flow- 
ers :  some  of  which  are  more  essential  or 
more  splendid  than  others ;  but  there  is  not  a 
blade  suffered  to  grow  in  it,  which  has  not  its 
use  and  beauty  in  the  system.  Salvation  for 
sinners,  is  the  grand  truth  presented  every 
where,  and  in  all  points  of  light ;  but  the  pure 
in  heart  sees  a  thousand  traits  of  the  divine 
character,  of  himself,  and  of  the  world — some 
striking  and  bold ;  others  cast,  as  it  were,  into 
the  shade,  and  designed  to  be  searched  for 
and  examined — some  direct,  others  by  way  of 
intimation  or  inference. 

He,  Avho  reads  the  Scriptures  only  in  the 
translation,  is  meanly  prepared  as  a  public 
teacher.     The  habit  of  reading  the  Scriptures 

I  in  the  original  throws  a  new  light  and  sense 
over  numberless  passages.  The  original  has, 
indeed,  been  obtruded  so  frequently,  and  some- 
times so  absurdly,  on  the  hearers,  that  their 

i  confidence  in  the  translation  has  been  shaken. 

j  The  judicious  line  of  conduct  herein,  is — To 
think  with  the  wise,  and  talk  with  the  vulgar 
— to  attain,  as  far  as  possible,  and  by  all  means, 
the  true  sense  and  force  of  every  passage  ; 
and,  wherever  that  differs  from  the  received 
translation,  work  it  in  imperceptibly,  that  the 
hearers  may  be  instructed,  while  they  receive 

1  no  prejudice  against  that  form  in  which  they 

!  enjoy  the  Scriptures. 

No  man  will  preach  the  Gospel  so  freely 
!  as  the  Scriptures  preach  it,  unless  he  will 
I  submit  to  talk  like  an  Antinomian,  in  the  esti- 
!  mation  of  a  great  body  of  Christians  ;  nor  will 
j  any  man  preach  it  so  practically  as  the 
I  Scriptures,  unless  he  will  submit  to  be  called, 
I  by  as  large  a  body,  an  Arminian.  IMany  think 
{ that  they  find  a  middle  path  :  which  is,  in  fact, 
j  neither  one  thing  nor  another ;  since  it  is  not 
the  incomprehensible,  but  grand  plan  of  the 
Bible.  It  is  somewhat  of  human  contrivance. 
I  It  savors  of  human  poverty  and  littleness. 

1  'Were  the  Scriptures  required  to  supply  a 
'  direct  answer  to  every  question  which  even  a 
I  sincere  inquirer  might  ask,  it  would  be  im- 
1  practicable.  They  form,  even  now,  a  large 
[  volume.  The  method  of  instruction  adopted 
I  in  them  is,  therefore,  this  : — The  rule  is  given  : 
!  the  doctrine  is  stated :  examples  are  brought 
forward — cases  in  point,  which  illustrate  the 
j  rule  and  the  doctrine :  and  this  is  found  suffi- 
cient for  every  upright  and  humble  mind. 

I      Tun  simple  and  unprejudiced  study  of  the 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


him  to  digest  that  book.  Another  great  truth, 
indeed,  we  may  gather  from  it ;  and  that  is, 
that  the  intemperate  men,  on  either  side,  are 
very  little  aware  of  the  consequences  which 
may  be  legitimately  drawn  from  their  princi- 
ples.—Even   Dr.  Owen  has  erred.     I  would 


Bible  is  the  death  of  religious  extravagance. 
— Many  read  it  under  a  particular  bias  of  the 
mind.  They  read  books,  written  by  others, 
under  the  same  views.  Their  preaching  and 
conversation  run  in  the  same  channel.  If 
they   could    awaken    themselves    from    this 

state,  and  come  to  read  the  whole  Scripture  not  compare  him,  in  this  respect,  with  Baxter  ■ 
lor  every  thing  which  they  could  find  there,  |  for  he  has  handled  his  points  Avith  far  greater 
they  would  start  as  from  a  dream— amazed  at  j  wisdom  and  simplicity  :  yet  he  errs  ex  abun 
the  humble,  meek,  forbearing,  holy,  heavenly  |  danti.  He  attempts  to  make  out  things  with 
character  of  the  simple  religion  of  the  Scrip- 1  more  accuracy,  and  clearness,  and  system 
tures,  to  which,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  j  than  the  Bible  will  warrant.  The  Bible  scorns 
their  eyes  had  been  blinded.  |  to   be  treated  scientifically.     After  all  your 

_       .  ^  ^  .  .      ^  i  accurate  statements,  it  willleave  you  aground 

The  right  way  of  interpreting  Scripture,  is,  |  The  Bible  does  not  come  round,  and  Isk  our 
to  take  It  as  we  find  it,  without  any  attempt  opinion  of  its  contents.  It  proposes  to  us  a 
to  force  It  into  any  particular  system.  What- 1  constitution  of  grace,  which  we  are  to  re 
ever  may  be  fairly  inferred  from  Scripture,  j  ceive,  though  we  do  not  wholly  comprehend 
we  need  not  fear  to  insist  on.  Many  passages  it.  Numberless  questions  may  be  started  on 
speak  the  language  of  what  is  called  Calvin-  the  various  parts  of  this  constitution  Much 
ism,  and  that  in  almost  the  strongest  terms :  |  of  it  I  cannot  understand,  even  of  what  re- 
I  would  not  have  a  man  clip  and  curtail  these  j  spects  myself;  but  I  am  called  to  act  on  it 
passages,  to  bring  them  down  to  some  system :  And  this  is  agreeable  to  analogy.  My  child 
let  him  go  with  them  in  their  free  and  full  will  ask  me  questions  on  the  fitness  or  unfit- 
sense  ;  for  otherwise  if  he  do  not  absolutely  !  ness  of  what  I  enjoin :    but  I  s  lence  C  ■ 

fniV  i  ^  ^K^^l  "'^"y  '"'''^'  ^^h'ch  I  your  business  is,  to  believe  me  and  obey  me 

speak  the  language  of  Armimanism,  and  let ;  But  the  schoolmen  will  not  be  satisfied  with 
him  go  all  the  way  with  these  also.  God  has  '  this  view  of  things :  yet  they  can  make  no 
been  pleased  thus  to  state  and  to  leave  the  j  thing  out  satisfactorily.  ThJy  have  their  1 
hing ;  and  a  1  our  attempts  to  distort  it,  one  re,  and  their  de  nomine;  but  nothing  is  gained 
way  or  the  other,  are  puny  and  contemptible.  I  by  these  attempts  at  clearness  and  nicHis 


tinctions. 


Bible - 


A  MAN  may  find  much  amusement  in  the  j  think  they  adjust  every  thing  with  precision 
ble-vanety   ol    prudential    instruction-   cannot  agree  Long  one  another,  and  dSS 
abundance  of  sublnnity  and  poetry :  but,  if  he  j  else  than  puzzle  plainer  minds 


stops  there,  he  stops  short  of  its  great  end  ; 
for,  the  testimony/  of  Jesus  is  the  spirit  of  pro- 
phecy. The  grand  secret  in  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures,  is,  to  discover  Jesus  Christ  there- 
in, the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life. 

In  reading  the  Scriptures,  we  are  apt  to 
think  God  farther  removed  from  us,  than  from 
the  persons  to  whom  he  spake  therein :  the 
knowledge  of  God  will  rectify  this 
if  God  COULD  BE  farther  from  ns  t 


error;  as 
farther  from  us  than  from 
them.  In  reading  the  Old  Testament  espe- 
cially, we  are  apt  to  think  that  the  things 
spoken  there,  in  the  prophet  Hosea,  for  in- 
stance, have  little  relation  to  us :  the  know- 
ledge taught  by  Christian  experience  will  rec- 
tify this  error :  as  if  religion  were  not  always 
the  SA.ME  SORT  of  trausactiou  between  God  and 
the  soul. 


Whatever  definitions  men  have  given  of  re- 
ligion, I  can  find  none  so  accurately  descriptive 
of  It  as  this— that  it  is  such  a  belief  of  the  Bi- 
ble as  maintains  a  living  influence  on  the  heart. 
—Men  may  speculate,  criticise,  admire,  dispute 
about,  doubt,  or  believe  the  Bible:  but  the  re- 
ligious MAN  IS  such  because  he  so  believes  it, 
as  to  carry  habitually  a  practical  sense  of  its 
truths  on  his  mind. 


The  fears  of  the  general  class  of  Christians 
are  concerned  about  the  superstructure  of  re- 
ligion ;  but  those  of  speculative  minds  chiefly 
relate  to  the  foundation.  The  less  thinking 
man  doubts  whether  he  is  on  the  foundation 
he  whose  mind  is  of  a  more  intellectual  turn 
j  doubts  concerning  the  foundation  itself.    I  have 

:  'f ^t  Y'^'^  '^^"^'  °'"   '^^^^^   speculative  cases. 

Fhere  are  two  diff-erent  ways  of  trP.tintr  i  a  if  ""^  tins  nature  are  generally  sudden. 
■  *-—--  -  ■•  ui'itritiR  wa>s  Ol  tieating  .  A  suspicion  will,  by  surpr  se,  damn  the  lieart  • 
Gospel-the  scientipic  and  !  and,  for  a  time,  will  paint  the  bS  Is  a  faSe' 
I  have  lound  it  useful,  on  such  occasions,  to 
glance  over  the  whole  thread  of  Scriptur 
1  he  whole  presented  in  such  a  view,  brin 
back  the  mind  to  its  proper  tone:  the  indeli- 
ble characters  of  simplicity  and  truth  impress 
with  irresistible  eff-ect  that  heart,  which  can 
discern  them  as  having  once  felt  them 


the  truths  of  the 

hole  presented  in  such  a  view,  brings 


_  I  first  entered  into  the  ministry, 

by  a  female  who  attended  my  church,  that  I 
should  study  Baxter-s  "Catholic  Theology." 
1  did  so :  but  the  best  idea  that  I  acquired 
from  this  labor  was,  that  the  most  sagacious 
anl  subtle  men  can  make  out  little  beyond 
the  plain  obvious,  and  broad  statement  of 
truth  in  the  Scriptures.  1  should  think  it  a 
very  proper  and  suitable  punishment  for  a 
conceited  and  pragmatical  dogmatist,  to  oblige 


On  (he  Old  and  New  Dispensations. 
The  Old  and  New  Testaments  contain  but 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


53 


one  scheme  of  religion.  Neither  part  of  tliis 
scheme  can  be  understood  without  the  other; 
and,  therefore,  great  errors  have  arisen  from 
separating  them.  They  are  like  the  rolls  on 
which  they  were  anciently  Avritten,  before 
books  of  the  present  form  wei-e  invented.  It 
is  but  one  subject  and  one  system,  from  be- 
ginning to  end;  but  the  view  which  we  obtain 
of  it  grows  clearer  and  clearer,  as  we  unwind 
the  roll  that  contains  it. 

There  is  one  grand  and  striking  feature  of 
distinction  between  the  spirit  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament dispensation  and  that  of  the  New. 

The  Old  Dispensation  was  a  dispensation  of 
limits,  waymarks,  forms,  and  fashions  :  every 
thing  was  weighed  and  measured :  if  a  man 
did  but  gather  sticks  on  the  Sabbath,  he  was  to 
be  stoned  without  mercy ;  if  a  Jew  brought  an 
offering,  it  was  of  no  avail  if  not  presented  at 
the  door  of  the  tabernacle  :  the  manner,  the 
time,  the  circumstances  were  all  minutely  in- 
stituted ;  and  no  devotiot:  or  piety  of  spirit 
could  exempt  a  man  from  the  j'oke  of  all  these 
observances,  for  God  had  appointed  these  as 
the  way  in  which  he  chose  tliat  a  devout  Jew 
should  express  his  state  of  mind. 

But  the  J>iew  Dispensation  changed  the 
whole  sj'stem.  Religion  was  now  to  become 
more  peculiarly  a  spiritual  transaction  between 
God  and  the  soul ;  and  independent,  in  a  higher 
measure  than  ever  before,  of  all  positive  insti- 
tutions. Its  few,  simple  institutions  had  no 
further  object  tiian  the  preservation  of  the 
unity,  order,  soundness,  and  purity  of  the 
church — in  regard  to  doctrine,  government, 
and  discipline. 

Nor  had  these  appointments  that  character 
of  unaccommodating  inflexibility,  which  mark- 
ed the  institutions  of  the  Old  Dispensation. 
All  nations,  njen  of  all  habits  and  manners,  are 
to  drink  life  from  the  beneficent  stream  as  it 
flows.  It  is  to  throw  down  no  obstructions 
that  are  not  absolutelj^  incompatible  with  its 
progress.  But  it  is  appointed  to  pervade  every 
place  which  it  visits.  Some,  it  enters  without 
-Dbstruction,  and  passes  directly  through.  In 
some,  it  meets  with  mounds  and  obstacles ; 
yet  rises  till  it  finds  an  entrance.  Others  are 
so  fenced  and  fortified,  that  it  winds  round 
them  and  flows  forward :  continuing  to  do  so, 
till  it,  at  length,  finds  some  method  of  insinu- 
ating itself. 

And  thus  the  di.«pensation  of  grace  in  the 
church  accommodates  itself  to  the  various 
tempers  and  habits  which  it  finds  in  different 
ages,  nations,  and  bodies  of  men  ;  it  leaves  in 
existence  numberless  opinions  and  prejudices, 
if  they  are  not  inconsistent  with  its  main  de- 
sign, and  mingles  and  insinuates  itself  among 
them.  It  has  not  limited  Christianity  to  any 
one  form  of  church  polity,  ordained  and  per- 
fected in  all  its  parts  by  divine  authority  :  but 
Christians  are  left  to  act  herein  according  to 
circumstances,  and  to  the  exercise  of  sound 
discretion  under  those  circumstances. 

Oil  Typical  and  Allegorical  Explanations  of  Scripture. 
It  might  be  expected,  that,  when  God  had 
108  0 


determined  to  send  his  Son  into  the  world, 
there  would  be  a  train  and  concatenation  of 
circumstances  preparatory  to  his  coming — 
that  the  history,  which  declared  that  he  was  to 
come,  should  exhibit  many  persons  and  things, 
which  would  form  a  grand  preparation  for  the 
event,  though  not  so  many  as  an  absurd  fancy 
might  imagine. 

There  is  a  certain  class  of  persons  who  wish 
to  rid  themselves  of  the  types.  Sikes  insists 
that  even  the  brazen  serpent  is  called  in  by  our 
Lord  by  way  of  illustration  only,  and  not  as  a 
designed  type.  Robinson,  of  Cambridge,  when 
he  began  to  verge  toward  Socinianism,  began 
to  ridicule  the  types;  and  to  find  matter  of 
sport  in  the  pomegranates  and  the  bells  of  the 
high  priest's  garment.  At  all  events,  the  sub- 
ject should  not  be  treated  with  levity  and  irre- 
verence ;  it  deserves  serious  reflection. 

With  respect  to  the  expediency  of  employ- 
ing the  types  much  in  the  pulpit,  that  is  anoth- 
er question.  I  seldom  employ  them.  I  am 
zealous  for  truth  and  its  sanctions.  The  Old 
Dispensation  was  a  typical  dispensation ;  but 
the  New  is  a  dispensation  unrolled.  When 
speaking  of  the  typical  dispensation,  we  must 
admire  a  master,  like  St.  Paul.  But  to  us, 
modesty  becomes  a  duty  in  treating  such  sub- 
jects in  our  ministry.  Remember,  "  This  is 
none  other  but  the  house  of  God  !  and  this  is  the 
gale  of  heaven  !  How  dreadful  if  I  lead  thou- 
sands with  nonsense ! — if  I  lose  the  opportu- 
nity of  impressing  solid  truths ! — if  I  waste 
their  precious  time!" 

A  minister  should  say  to  himself :  "  I  would 
labor  to  cut  off"  occasions  of  objecting  to  the 
truth.  I  would  labor  to  grapple  with  men's 
consciences.  I  would  show  them  that  there  is 
no  strange  twist  in  our  view  of  religion.  I 
must  avoid,  as  much  as  possible,  having  my 
judgment  called  in  question  :  many  watch  for 
this,  and  will  avail  themselves  of  any  advan- 
tage. Some  who  hear  me,  are  thus  continu- 
ally seeking  excuses  for  not  listening  to  the 
warnings  and  invitations  of  the  word :  they 
are  endeavoring  to  get  out  of  our  reach ;  but 
I  would  hold  them  fast  by  such  passages  as, 
"  What  shall  a  man  give  m  exchange  for  his  soul!" 

Many  men  labor  to  make  the  Bible  their 
Bible.  This  is  one  way  of  getting  its  yoke  off 
their  necks.  The  meaning,  however,  of  the 
Bible  is  the  Bible.  If  I  preach,  then,  on  im- 
puted righteousness,  for  instance,  why  should 
1  preach  from,  the  skies  pour  down  righteousness ; 
and  then  anathematize  men  for  not  believing 
the  doctrine,  when  it  is  not  declared  in  the 
passage,  and  there  are  hundreds  of  places  so 
expressly  to  the  point ! 

Most  of  the  folly  on  this  subject  of  allegori- 
cal interpretation,  has  arisen  from  the  want  of 
holy  awe  on  the  mind.  An  evil  fashion  may 
lead  some  men  into  it ;  and,  so  far,  the  case  is 
somewhat  extenuated.  We  should  ever  re- 
member, however,  that  it  is  a  very  diflferent 
thing  to  allegorize  the  New  Dispensation  from 
allegorizing  the  Old  :  the  New  is  a  dispensa- 
tion of  substance  and  realities. 

When  a  careless  young  man,  I  remember  to 
have  felt  alarms  in  my  conscience  from  some 


54 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL, 


preachers ;  while  others,  from  this  method  of 
treating  their  subjects,  let  me  off  easily.  I 
heard  the  man  as  a  weak  allegorizer;  I  dis- 
pised  him  as  a  foolish  preacher:  till  I  met  with 
some  plain,  simple,  solid  man,  who  seized  and 
urged  the  obvious  meaning.  I  shall,  there- 
fore, carry  to  my  grave  a  deep  conviction  of 
the  danger  of  entering  far  into  typical  and 
allegorical  interpretations. 

Accommodation  of  Scripture,  if  sober,  will 
give  variety.  The  apostles  do  tiiis  so  far  as  to 
show  that  it  may  have  its  use  and  advantage. 
It  should,  however,  never  be  taken  as  a  ground- 
work, but  employed  only  in  the  way  of  allu- 
sion. I  may  use  the  passage,  there  is  a  friend 
that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother,  by  way  of  al- 
lusion to  Christ ;  but  I  cannot  employ  it  as  the 
ground-work  of  a  discourse  on  him. 


On  the  Diversity  of  Character  in  Christians  on 
correcting  the  Defects  in  our  Character. 
In  discovering  and  counteracting  the  de- 
fects OF  OUR  own  character,  it  is  of  chief  im- 
portance that  we  really  intend  to  ascertain  the 
truth. 

The  intention  is  extremely  defective  in  us 
all.  The  man  who  thinks  he  has  such  honest 
intention,  yet  has  it  very  imperfectly.  He 
says — "Touch  me:  but  touch  me  like  a  gen- 
tleman. Do  not  intrude  on  the  delicacies  of 
society."  The  real  meaning  of  which  is,  that 
he  has  no  intention  of  hearing  the  truth  from 
you.  A  man,  who  has  a  wound  to  be  healed, 
comes  to  a  surgeon  with  such  an  intention  to 
get  it  healed,  that  if  he  suspected  his  skill  or 
his  fidelity  he  would  seek  another. 

Intention,  or  a  man's  really  desiring  to  know 
the  truth  concerning  himself,  would  produce 
ATTENTION.  Hc  would  soon  fiiid,  that  there  is 
little  close  business  in  a  man  who  does  not 
withdraw  from  the  world. 

He  will  begin  with  self-suspicion.  "  Per- 
haps I  am  such  or  such  a  man.  I  see  defects 
in  all  my  friends,  and  I  must  be  a  madman  not 
to  suppose  that  I  also  have  mine.  I  see  de- 
fects in  my  friends  which  they  not  only  do 
not  themselves  see :  but  they  will  not  suffer 
others  to  show  these  defects  to  them.  I  must, 
therefore,  take  it  for  granted  that  I  am  a  more 
foolish  and  pragmatical  fellow  than  I  can  con- 
ceive." 

If  he  begin  thus,  then  he  will  be  willing  to 
proceed  a  step  farther :  "  Let  me  try  if  I  can- 
not reach  these  defects."  I  have  found  out 
myself  by  seeing  my  picture  in  another  man. 
I  would  choose  men  of  my  own  constitution  : 
other  men  would  give  me  no  proper  picture 
of  myself.  In  such  men,  I  can  see  actions  to 
be  ridiculous  or  absurd,  when  I  could  not  have 
seen  them  to  be  so  in  myself.  We  may  learn 
some  features  of  our  portrait  from  enemies : 
an  enemy  gives  a  hard  feature,  probably,  but 
it  is  often  a  truer  likeness  than  can  be  ob- 
tained from  a  friend.  What  with  your  friend's 
tenderness  for  you,  and  your  own  tenderness 
for  yourself,  you  cannot  get  at  the  true  fea- 
ture. We  should,  moreover,  encourage  our 
t-'ends.     You  cannot,  in  one  case  in  ten,  go 


to  a  man  on  a  business  of  this  nature,  without 
offending  him.  He  will  allege  such  and  suclv 
excuses  for  the  defect,  and  fritter  it  away  to 
:  nothing.  This  shows  the  hypocrisy — the 
falsehood — the  self-love — and  the  flattery  of 
the  heart.  This  endeavor  to  conceal  or  pal- 
liate defects,  instead  of  a  desire  to  discover 
them,  grows  up  with  us  from  infancy.  There 
is  something  so  deceitfid  in  sin !  A  man  is 
brought  to  believe  his  own  lie !  He  is  so  accus- 
tomed to  hide  himself  from  himself,  that  lie 
i  is  surprised  when  another  detects  and  un- 
1  masks  him.  Hazael  verily  believed  himself 
I  incapable  of  becoming  what  the  prophet  fore- 
told. 

Many  motives  urge  us  to  attempt  a  rectifi- 
cation of  our  defects.  Consider  the  import- 
ance of  character  :  he,  who  says  he  cares  not 
what  men  think  of  him,  is  on  a  very  low 
form  in  the  school  of  experience  and  wisdom  : 
character  and  money  effect  almost  every  thing. 
It  should  be  considered,  too,  how  much  we 
have  smarted  for  want  of  attending  to  our 
defects :  nineteen  out  of  twenty  of  our  smart- 
ing times  arise  from  this  cause. 

In  counteracting  our  defects,  however,  we 
should  be  cautious  not  to  blunder  by  imitation 
of  others.  There  are  such  men  in  the  world 
as  saint-errants.  One  of  these  men  takes  up 
the  History  of  Ignatius  Loyola ;  and  nothing 
seems  worthy  of  his  endeavor,  but  to  be  just 
such  a  man,  in  all  the  extravagancies  of  his 
character  and  conduct.  We  should  search 
till  we  find  where  our  character  fails,  and 
tlien  amend  it — not  attempt  to  become  ano- 
ther man. 

A  WISE  man,  who  is  seriously  concerned  to 
learn  the  truth  respecting  himself,  will  not 
spurn  it  even  from  a  fool.  The  great  men, 
who  kept  fools  in  their  retinue,  learned  more 
truth  from  them  than  from  their  companions. 
A  real  self-observer  will  ask  whether  there  is 
any  truth  in  what  the  fool  says  of  him.  Nay, 
a  truth,  that  may  be  uttered  in  envy  or  anger, 
will  not  lose  its  weight  with  him.  The  man, 
who  is  determined  to  find  happiness,  must 
bear  to  have  it  even  beaten  into  him.  No 
j  man  ever  found  it  by  chance,  or  "  yawned  it 
I  into  being  with  a  wish."  When  I  was  young, 
I  my  mother  had  a  servant  whose  conduct  I 
thought  truly  wise.  A  man  was  hired  to 
brew ;  and  this  servant  was  to  watch  his 
method,  in  order  to  learn  his  art.  In  the 
course  of  the  process,  something  was  done 
which  she  did  not  understand.  She  asked 
him,  and  he  abused  her,  with  the  vilest  epi- 
thets, for  her  ignorance  and  stupidity.  My 
mother  asked  her,  when  she  related  it,  how 
she  bore  such  abuse.  "I  would  be  called," 
said  she,  "  worse  names  a  thousand  times,  for 
the  sake  of  the  information  which  I  got  out  of 
him." 

If  a  man  would  seriously  set  himself  to  this 
work,  he  must  retire  from  the  crowd.  He 
must  not  live  in  a  bustle.  If  he  is  always 
driving  through  the  business  of  the  day,  he 
will  be  so  in  harness  as  not  to  observe  the 
road  he  is  going. 
I     He  must  place  perfect  standards  before  his 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL, 


65 


eyes.  Everj'  man  has  his  favorite  notions; 
and,  therefore,  no  man  is  a  proper  standard. 
The  perfect  standard  is  only  to  be  found  in 
Scripture.  Elijah  meets  Ahab,  and  holds  up 
the  perfect  standard  before  his  eyes,  till  he 
shrinks  into  himself.*  I  have  found  great 
benefit  in  being  sickened  and  disgusted  with 
the  false  standards  of  men.  I  turn,  with 
stronger  convictions,  to  the  perfect  standard 
of  God's  Avord. 

He  should  also  cormviine  with  his  own  heart 
upon  his  bed — "  How  did  I  fall,  at  such  or  such 
a  time,  into  my  peculiar  humors  !  Had  any 
other  man  done  so,  I  should  have  lost  my 
patience  with  him.'' 

Above  all,  he  must  make  his  defects  matter 
of  constant  prayer — Search  me,  O  God,  and 
know  my  heart:  try  me,  and  know  my  thoughts: 
and  see  if  there  be  any  ivicked  ivay  in  me,  and 
lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting. 

Men  are  to  be  estimated,  as  Johnson  says, 
by  the  mass  of  character.  A  block  of  tin 
may  have  a  grain  of  silver,  but  still  it  is  tin; 
and  a  block  of  silver  may  have  an  alloy  of  tin, 
but  still  it  is  silver.  The  mass  of  Elijah's 
chai'acter  was  excellence ;  yet  he  was  not 
without  the  alloJ^  The  mass  of  Jehu's  cha- 
racter was  base  ;  yet  he  had  a  portion  of  zeal 
which  was  directed  by  God  to  great  ends,  j 
Bad  men  are  made  the  same  use  of  as  scaf- 
folds :  they  are  employed  as  means  to  erect 
a  building,  and  then  are  taken  down  and  de- 
stroyed. 

We  must  make  great  allowance  for  consti- 
tution. I  could  name  a  man,  who,  though  a 
good  man,  is  more  unguarded  in  his  tongue 
than  many  immoral  persons  :  shall  I  condemn 
him  1  he  breaks  down  here,  and  almost  here 
only.  On  the  other  hand,  many  are  so  mild  i 
and  gentle,  as  to  make  one  wonder  how  such  ' 
a  character  could  be  formed,  without  true 
grace  entering  into  its  composition. 

God  has  given  to  every  man  a  peculiar  con- 
stitution. No  man  is  to  say,  "  I  am  such  or 
such  a  man,  and  I  can  be  no  other — such  or 
such  is  my  way,  and  I  am  what  God  made 
me."  This  is  true,  in  a  sound  sense  :  but,  in 
an  unsound  sense,  it  has  led  men  foolishly  and 
wickedly  to  charge  their  eccentricities,  and 
even  their  crimes,  on  God.  It  is  every  man's 
duty  to  understand  his  own  constitution ;  and 
to  apply  to  it  the  rein  or  the  spur,  as  it  may 
need.  All  men  cannot  do,  nor  ou^ht  they  to 
do,  all  things  in  the  same  way,  nor  even  the 
same  things.  But  there  are  common  points 
of  duty,  on  which  all  men  of  all  habits  are  to 
meet.  The  free  horse  is  to  be  checked,  per- 
haps, up-hill,  and  the  sluggish  one  to  be  urged  ; 
but  the  same  spirit,  which  would  have  ex- 
hausted itself  before,  shows  itself  probably  in 
resistance  down-hill,  when  he  feels  the  breech- 
ing press  upon  him  behind;  but  he  must  be 
whipped  out  of  his  resistance. 

+  1  Kings  xviii,  17,  &c. 


There  is  a  large  class  of  Christians,  who 
want  discrimination   in  religion.     They  are 
sound  and  excellent  men,  but  they  are  not 
men  of  deep  experience.     They  are  not  men 
of  Owen's,  Gilpin's,  Rutherford's,  Adams's,  or 
I  Brainerd's  school.     They  have  a  general,  but 
not  a  minute,  acquaintance  with  the  combat 
between  sin  and  grace  in  the  heart.     I  have 
I  learned  not  to  bring  deeply  experimental  sub- 
I  jects  before  such  persons.     They  cannot  un- 
derstand them,  but  are  likely  to  be  distressed 
by  them.     This  difference  between  persons  of 
genuine    piety   arises   from   constitution— or 
from  the  manner  in  which  the  grace  of  God 
j  first  met  them — or  from  the  nature  and  degree 
of  temptation   through   which   God   has   led 
I  them.    A  mind  finely  constituted,  or  of  strong 
;  passions — a  mind  roused  in  its  sins,  rather 
:  than  one  drawn  insensibly — a  mind  trained  in 
I  a  severe  school  for  high  services — is  generally 
the  subject  of  this  deeply  interior  acquaintance 
!  with  religion. 

j  There  is  a  great  diversity  of  character 
!  among  real  Christians.  Education,  constitu- 
i  tion,  and  circumstances  will  fully  explain  this 
I  diversity. 

'  He  has  seen  but  little  of  life,  who  does  not 
discern  every  where  the  effects  of  education 
on  men's  opinions  and  habits  of  thinking. 
Two  children  bring  out  of  the  nursery  that 
which  displays  itself  throughout  their  lives. 
And  who  is  the  man  that  can  rise  above  his 
dispensation,  and  can  say,  "  You  have  been 
teaching  me  nonsense  V 

As  to  CONSTITUTION — look  at  Martin  Luther  : 
we  may  see  the  man  every  day :  his  eyes, 
and  nose,  and  mouth,  attest  his  character. 
Look  at  Melancthon  :  he  is  like  a  snail,  with 
his  couple  of  horns :  he  puts  out  his  horns, 
and  feels — and  feels — and  feels.  No  educa- 
tion could  have  rendered  these  two  men  alike. 
Their  difference  began  in  the  womb.  Luther 
dashes  in  saying  his  things  :  Melancthon  must 
go  round  about — he  must  consider  what  the 
Greek  says,  and  what  the  Syriac  says.  Some 
men  are  born  minute  men— lexicographers — 
of  a  German  character:  they  will  hunt  through 
libraries  to  rectify  a  syllable.  Other  men  are 
born  keen  as  a  razor :  they  have  a  sharp,  se- 
vere, strong  acumen :  they  cut  every  tiling  to 
pieces :  their  minds  are  like  a  case  of  instru- 
ments ;  touch  which  you  will,  it  wounds :  they 
crucify  a  modest  man.  Such  men  should  aim 
at  a  right  knowledge  of  character.  If  they 
attained  this,  they  would  find  out  the  sin  that 
easily  besets  them.  The  greater  the  capacity 
of  such  men,  the  greater  their  cruelty.  They 
ought  to  blunt  their  instruments.  They  ought 
to  keep  them  in  a  case.  Other  men  are  am- 
bitious— fond  of  power :  pride  and  power  give 
a  velocity  to  their  motions.  Others  are  born 
with  a  quiet,  retiring  mind.  Some  are  natu- 
rally fierce,  and  others  naturally  mild  and  pla- 
cable. Men  often  take  to  themselves  great 
credit  for  what  they  owe  entirely  to  nature. 
If  we  would  judge  rightly,  we  should  see  that 
narrowness  or  expansion  of  mind,  niggardh- 
ness  or  generosity,  delicacy  or  boldness  have 


56 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


less  of  merit  or  demerit  than  we  commonly 
assign  to  them. 

Circumstances,  also,  are  not  sufficiently 
taken  into  the  account,  when  we  estimate 
character.  For  example — we  generally  cen- 
sure the  Reformers  and  Puritans  as  dogmat- 
ical, morose,  systematic  men.  But,  it  is 
easier  to  walk,  on  a  road,  than  to  form  that 
road.  Other  men  laboi-ed,  and  we  have  entered 
into  their  labors.  In  a  fine  day,  I  can  walk 
abroad;  but,  in  a  rough  and  stormy  day,  I 
should  find  it  another  thing  to  turn  coachman 
and  dare  all  weathers.  These  men  had  to  bear 
the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day :  they  had  to 
fight  against  hard  times  :  they  had  to  stand  up 
against  learning  and  power.  Their  times  were 
not  like  ours  :  a  man  may  now  think  what  he 
will,  and  nobody  cares  what  he  thinks.  A 
man  of  that  school  was,  of  course,  stitf,  rigid, 
unyielding.  Tuckney  was  such  a  man ;  Winch 
cot  was  for  smoothing  things,  and  walking 
abroad.  We  see  circumstances  operating  in 
many  other  ways.  A  minister  unmarried,  and 
the  same  man  married,  are  very  different  men. 
A  minister  in  a  small  parish,  and  the  same  man 
in  a  large  sphere  where  his  sides  are  spurred 
and  goaded,  are  very  diflfe rent  men.  A  minis- 
ter on  tenter-hooks— harassed— schooled,  and 
the  same  man  nursed — cherished — put  into  a 
hot-house,  are  very  different  men.  Some  of 
us  are  hot-house  plants.  We  grow  tall :  not 
better— not  stronger.  Talents  are  among  the 
circumstances  which  form  the  diversity  of 
character.  A  man  of  talents  feels  his  own 
powers,  and  throws  himself  into  that  line 
which  he  can  pursue  with  most  success.  Sau- 
rin  felt  that  he  could  flourish — lighten— thun- 
der— enchant,  like  a  magician.  Every  one 
should  seriously  consider  how  far  his  talents 
and  turn  of  mind  and  circumstances  drive  him 
out  of  the  right  road.  It  is  an  easy  thing  for 
a  man  of  vigor  to  bring  a  quiet  one  before  his 
bar :  and  it  is  easy  for  this  quiet  man  to  con- 
demn the  other :  yet  both  m;iy  be  really  pious 
men— serving  God  with  then-  best  powers. 
Every  man  has  his  peculiar  gift  of  God ;  one  af- 
ter this  manner,  and  the  other  after  that. 

On  the  Fallen  Nature  of  Man. 
I  SEEM  to  acquire  little  new  knowledge  on 
any  subject,  compared  to  tliat  which  I  acquire 
concerning  man.  This  subject  is  inexhausti- 
ble. I  have  lately  read  Colquhoun's  Treatise 
on  the  "  Police  of  the  Metropolis,"  and  Bar- 
ruell's  "  Memoirs  of  Jacobinism."  When 
we  preachers  draw  pictures  of  human  nature 
in  the  pulpit,  we  are  told  that  we  calumniate 
It.  Calumniate  it!— Let  such  censurers  read 
these  writers,  and  confess  that  we  are  novices 
in  painting  the  vices  of  the  heart.  All  of  us 
live  to  make  discoveries  of  the  evils  of  the 
heart— not  of  its  virtues.  AH  our  new  know- 
ledge of  human  nature  is  occupied  with  its  evil. 

Bartholomew  fair  is  one  of  the  most  per- 
fect exhibitions  of  unrestrained  human  nature 
m  the  whole  world.     The  monkey,  the  tiger 


the  wolf,  the  hog,  and  the  goat,  are  not  only 
to  be  found  in  their  own,  but  in  human  form  ; 
with  all  their  savageness,  brutality,  and  filthi- 
ness.  It  displays  human  nature  in  its  most 
degraded,  ridiculous,  and  absurd  conditions. 
The  tiger  may  be  seen  in  a  quiescent  state,  if 
we  pass  through  Dyot  street :  he  couches 
there  :  he  blinks.  But,  at  Bartholomew  fair, 
he  is  rampant — vigorous— fierce.  Passing 
through  a  fair  in  a  country  town,  I  witnessed 
a  most  instructive  scene.  Two  withered, 
weatherbeaten  wretches  were  standing  at  the 
door  of  a  show-cart,  and  receiving  two-pences 
from  sweet,  innocent,  ruddy  country  girls,  who 
paid  their  money,  and  dropped  their  courtesies  ; 
while  these  wretches  smiled  at  their  simplici- 
ty, and  clapped  them  on  the  back  as  they  en- 
tered the  door.  What  a  picture  this  of  Satan  ! 
He  sets  off  his  shows,  and  draws  in  heedless 
creatures,  and  takes  from  them  every  thing 
they  have  good  about  them  !  There  was  a  fel- 
low dressed  out  as  a  zany,  with  a  hump  back 
and  a  hump  belly,  a  lengthened  nose,  and  a 
lengthened  chin.  To  what  a  depth  of  degra- 
dation must  human  nature  be  sunk,  to  seek 
such  resources !  I  derived  more  instruction 
from  this  scene,  than  I  could  have  done  from 
many  elaborate  theological  treatises. 

View  man  on  whatever  side  we  can — in  his 
sensuaht.ies,  or  in  his  ferocities— in  the  sins  of 
his  flesh,  or  in  the  sins  of  his  spirit ;  catch  him 
when  and  where  you  will— his  condition  is  de- 
plorable. While  he  is  sunk  in  the  mass  him- 
self, he  has  no  perception  of  his  state  :  but 
when  he  begins  to  emerge,  he  looks  down  with 
amazement.  He  sees  but  little,  however,  of 
Its  abomination;  because  he  has  stili  an  aflini- 
ty  with  the  evil. 

Human  nature  is  like  the  sea,  which  gains  by 
the  flow  of  the  tide  in  one  place,  what  it  has 
lost  by  the  ebb  iii  another.  A  man  may  ac- 
quiesce in  the  method  which  God  takes  to  mor- 
tify his  pride ;  but  he  is  in  danger  of  growing 
proud  of  the  mortification  :  and  so  in  other- 
cases. 


On  the  Need  of  Grace. 
There  is  something  so  remarkable  in  the 
genius  and  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  that  it  is  not 
to  be  understood  by  any  force  of  specula- 
tion and  investigation.  Baxter  attempted  this 
method,  and  found  it  vain.  The  state  of  the 
heart  has  the  chief  influence  in  the  search  af- 
ter truth.  Humility,  contrition,  simplicity, 
sanctity— these  are  the  handmaids  of  the  un- 
derstanding in  the  investigation  of  religion. 

How  is  it  that  some  men  labor  in  divine 
things  night  and  day,  but  labor  in  vain  ?  How 
is  It  that  men  can  turn  over  the  Bible  from 
end  to  end,  to  support  errors  and  heresies- 
absurdities  and  blasphemies?  They  take  not 
the  SPIRIT  with  the  word.  A  spiritual  under- 
standing must  be  given— a  gracious  perception 
—a  right  taste. 


REMAINS    OF   MR.  CECIL. 


"  A  VERY  extraordinary  thing,"  said  one, "  if 
I,  who  have  read  the  Bible  over  and  over  in 
the  original  languages — have  stndied  it  day 
and  night — and  have  written  criticisms  and 
comments  on  it :  a  very  extraordinary  thing 
that  I  should  not  be  able  to  discover  that 
meaning  in  the  Scriptures,  which  is  said  to 
be  so  plain  that  a  ivay-faring  man,  though  a  fool, 
shall  not  err  in  discovering  it !"  And  so  it  is 
extraordinary  till  we  open  this  Bible ;  and 
there  we  see  the  fact  explained.  The  man 
who  approaches  the  word  of  God  in  his  own 
wisdom,  shall  not  find  what  the  fool  shall  dis- 
cover under  the  teaching  of  divine  wisdom  : 
Fo7'  it  is  loritten,  I  will  destroy  the  tvisdom  of  the 
icise,  and  will  bring  to  nothing  the  U7iderstanding 
of  the  prudent — and  God  hath  chosen  the  foolish 
things  of  the  loorld  to  confound  the  tvise. 

God,  in  his  providence,  seems  to  make  little 
account  of  the  measures  and  contrivances  of 
men,  in  accomplishing  his  designs.  He  will 
do  the  work,  and  his  hand  will  be  seen  in  the 
doing  of  it.  We  are  obliged  to  wait  for  the  tide. 
When  that  flows,  and  the  wind  sets  in  fair,  let  us 
hoist  the  sails.  When  the  tide  has  left  a  ship  on 
the  beach,  an  army  may  attempt  to  move  it  in 
vain;  but  when  she  has  floated  by  the  water,  a 
small  force  moves  her.  We  must  wait  for  open- 
ings in  Providence.  In  this  light  I  view  the 
darkness  of  the  heathen  world.  Let  us  follow 
every  apparent  leading  of  Providence,  in  our 
endeavors  to  communicate  light  to  the  heathen ; 
but,  still,  the  opening  and  the  whole  work  must 
be  of  God.  Thousands,  indeed,  hear  the  Gospel, 
who  are  no  more  impressed  by  it  than  though 
they  were  heathens.  The  minds  of  some 
men  will  stand,  as  it  were,  a  regular  blockade, 
and  yet  yield  to  a  side  blow — sit  unchanged 
under  a  searching  ministry,  and  yet  fall  be- 
neath a  casual  word.  I  know  such  cases. 
We  might  account,  indeed,  for  them,  in  some 
measure,  as  philosophers.  The  mind,  which 
plants  itself  against  and  repels  the  formal  and 
avowed  attacks  of  the  preacher,  may  be  sur- 
prised by  a  hint  addressed,  perhaps,  to  anoth- 
er :  yet,  after  all,  the  whole  work  is  of  God. 
We  may  make  very  little,  therefore,  of  the 
vehicle.  The  Gospel — the  wants  of  men— the 
indisposition  of  the  heart — and  the  mighty 
power  of  God— are  always  and  universally 
the  same.  By  whatever  vehicle  God  con- 
veys that  mighty  energy,  which  disposes  man 
to  find  the  relief  of  his  wants  in  the  Gospel, 
HE  still  is  the  worker.  It  is  a  divine  operation 
of  God's  Holy  Spirit.  If  God  would  raise  up 
heathen  princes  with  the  spirit  of  Peter  the 
Great,  or  Kouli  Khan,  and  send  them  forth 
under  the  powerful  influence  of  Christianity 
to  proselyte  their  subjects,  we  might  expect 
the  end  to  be  accomplished :  but  this  is  a 
scheme  suited  to  our  littleness,  and  not  to 
Him,  ivhose  thoughts  are  not  as  our  thoughts, 
and  tvhose  ivays  are  not  as  our  ways. 

A  LADY  proposed  to  me  a  case,  which  seem- 
ed to  her  to  decide  against  those  views  of  re- 
ligion called  evangelical.  She  knew  a  most 
amiable  girl  who  was  respectful  and  attentive 


j  to  her  parents,  and  engaging  and  lovely  to  all 
I  connected  with  her :  who  had,   however,  no 
objection  to  seeing  a  play;  and  had  certainly 
nothing  of  that,  which  she  knew  I  should  call 
religion  :  but  she  asked  if  I  could  believe  that 
God  would  condemn  such  a  character  to  ever- 
j  lasting  misery.     Many  persons  view  things  in 
!  this  way.     They  set  themselves  up  to  dictate 
[  to  God  what  should  be  done,  on  points  which 
{  he  only  can  determine.     If  these  persons  are 
j  ever  cured  of  this  evil,  it  must  probably  be  in 
j  some  such  way  as  that  by  which  it  pleased 
God  to  teach  Job.     Job  could  assert  his  integ- 
rity and  his  character  against  the  arguments 
of  his  friends;  but,  when  God  asked,  Where 
wast  thou  ivhen  I  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth'! 
Job  prostrates  his  soul  with  this  declaration 
— /  have  heard  of  thee  ivith  the  hearing  of  the 
ear,  hut  now  mine  eye  seeth  thee.     Wherefore  I 
abhor  myself  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes. 

Every  thinking  man  will  look  round  him, 
when  he  reflects  on  his  situation  in  this  world; 
and  -will  ask,  "  What  will  meet  my  case  1 
What  is  it  that  I  want  ■?  What  will  satisfy 
me  ]  I  look  at  the  rich — and  I  see  Ahab,  in 
the  midst  of  all  his  riches,  sick  at  heart  for  a 
garden  of  herbs !  I  see  Dives,  after  all  his 
wealth,  lifting  up  his  eyes  in  hell,  and  begging 
for  a  drop  of  water  to  cool  the  rage  of  his  suf- 
ferings! I  see  the  rich  fool  summoned  away, 
in  the  very  moment  when  he  was  exulting  in 
his  hoards  !  If  I  look  at  the  wise — I  see  Sol- 
omon, with  all  his  wisdom,  acting  like  a  fool ; 
and  I  know,  that,  if  I  possessed  all  his  wis- 
dom, were  I  left  to  myself,  I  should  act  as  he 
did.  I  see  Ahithophei,  with  all  his  policy, 
hanging  himself  for  vexation !  If  I  turn  to 
men  of  pleasure — I  see  that  the  very  sum  of 
all  pleasure  is,  that  it  is  Satan's  bed  into  which 
he  casts  his  slaves  !  I  see  Esau  selling  his 
birth-right  for  a  mess  of  pottage  !  I  see  Sol- 
omon, after  all  his  enjoyments,  leaving  his 
name  a  scandal  to  the  church  to  the  latest 
age!  If  I  think  of  honor — I  take  a  walk  in 
Westminster  Abbey — there  is  an  end  of  all 
inquiry.  There  I  walk  among  the  mighty 
dead !  There  is  the  winding  up  of  human 
glory!  And  what  remains  of  the  greatest 
man  of  my  country^ — A  boasting  epitaph! 
None  of  these  things,  then,  can  satisfy  me ! 
I  must  meet  death — I  must  meet  judgment — I 
must  meet  God — I  must  meet  eternity  !" 

On  the  Occasions  of  Enmity  against  Christianity. 

The  cause  of  enmity  against  real  Christiani- 
ty is  in  the  heart.  The  angel  Gabriel  might 
exhibit  the  truth,  but  the  heart  would  rise  in 
enmity.  To  suppose  that  there  is  any  way  of 
preaching  the  cross  so  as  not  to  offfend  the 
world,  is  to  know  nothing  of  the  subject. 

There  are  many  occasions,  however,  of  call- 
ing forth  this  enmity.  Any  man,  who  should 
bleed  me,  would  put  me  to  pain;  but  he  would 
greatly  aggravate  my  pain,  if  he  rudely  tore 
my  skin.  Occasions  may  render  the  recep- 
tion of  that  truth  morally  impossible,  which, 
under  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  is  re- 
ceived with  difficulty. 


58 


REMAINS    OP   MR.  CECIL. 


Ignorance,  in  ministers,  is  an  occasion  of 
exciting  enmity  against  Christianity.  A  man 
may  betray  ignorance  on  almost  every  subject, 
except  the  way  of  salvation.  But  if  others 
see  him  to  be  a  fool  off  his  own  ground,  they 
will  think  him  a  fool  on  that  ground.  It  is  a 
great  error  to  rail  against  human  learning,  so 
as  to  imply  an  undervaluing  of  knowledge.  A 
man  may  have  little  of  what  is  called  learning, 
but  he  must  have  knowledge.  Bunyan  was 
such  a  man. 

Religious  profession  was,  at  first,  a  conflict 
— a  SACRIFICE  :  now  it  is  become  a  trade.  The 
world  sees  this  spirit  pervade  many  men  :  and 
it  is  a  great  occasion  of  enmity.  Men  of 
learning  and  character  have  confirmed  this 
impression :  they  have  brought  out  this  mis- 
chief, and  exhibited  it  to  the  world.  Let  any 
man  look  into  Warburton's  "Doctrine  of 
Grace,"  and  he  may  sit  down  and  wonder  that 
God  should  suffer  such  occasions  of  enmity 
to  arise. 

Fanatical  times  furnish  another  occasion. 
The  days  of  Cromwell,  for  instance.  The 
great  enemy  of  godliness  will  never  want  in- 
struments to  make  the  best  of  such  subjects 
of  ridicule.  As  long  as  such  a  book  as  But- 
ler's Hudibras  is  in  the  world,  it  will  supply 
occasions  of  enmity  against  real  religion. 

An  UNHOLY,   INSOLENT    PROFESSOR  OF    RELIGION 

occasions  enmity.  He  scorns  and  insults  man- 
kind. His  spirit  is  such  as  to  give  them  oc- 
casion of  contemning  the  truth  which  he  pro- 
fesses. The  world  will  allow  some  men  to 
call  it  to  account :  they  will  feel  a  weight  of 
character  in  a  holy  and  just  man. 

Eccentricity,  in  religious  men,  is  another 
occasion  of  enmity.  Ask  an  eccentric  man 
a  question :  he  will  stare  in  your  face,  and 
look  very  spiritual.  I  knew  one  of  these  men 
who  called  out  to  a  farmer  as  he  was  passing, 
"Farmer!  whatdo  you  knowof  Jesus  Christi" 
Much  spiritual  pride  lurks  under  this  conduct. 
There  is  want  of  breeding  and  good  sense. 
The  world  is  led  to  form  wrong  associations 
by  such  characters :  "  Religion  makes  a  man 
a  fool,  or  mad:  therefore  I  will  not  become 
religious." 

Injudicious  preaching  increases  the  offence 
of  the  cross.  Strange  interpretations  of  Scrip- 
ture— ludicrous  comparisons — silly  stories — 
talking  without  thinking:  these  are  occasions 
of  enmity. 

The  loose  and  indiscreet  conduct  of  pro- 
fessing Christians,  particularly  of  ministers, 
is  another  occasion.  The  world  looks  at 
ministers  out  of  the  pulpit,  to  know  what  they 
mean  when  in  it. 

An  ostentatious  spirit  in  a  professor  of  re- 
ligion does  great  injury — that  ffwing  out  that 
he  is  some  great  one.  Even  a  child  will  often 
detect  this  spirit,  when  we  think  no  one  dis- 
covers it. 

The    MANNER  OF  CONDUCTING    THE    DEVOTIONAL 

PART  OF  PUBLIC  SERVICE  is  somctimcs  offensive. 
It  is  as  much  as  to  say,  "we  mean  nothing*  hij 


Exodus  xii,  26. 


this  service.  Have  patience,  and  you  shall 
hear  me."  - 

Slighting  the  offence  of  irregularity  has 
done  much  harm.     It  was  a  wise  reply  of  a 
Spanish  minister  to  his  king:  "  Omit  this  af- 
fair: it  is  but  a  ceremony!"     "A  ceremony 
Why  the  king  is  a  ceremony !"' 

Good  men  have  given  occasion  of  offence 
by  maintaining  suspicious  connexions.  There 
is  a  wide  difference  between  my  not  harassing 
and  exposing  a  doubtful  character,  and  my 
endorsing  and  authenticating  him. 

Contempt  of  men's  prejudices  of  education 
will  offend.  It  was  not  thus  with  St.  Paul :  / 
am  made  all  things  to  all  men^  that  I  might  by  all 
means  save  some. 

A  WANT    OF    THE    SPIRIT    OF    THE    CROSS    IN    ITS 

PROFESSORS  increases  the  offence  of  the  cross 
— that  humility,  patience,  and  love  to  souls, 
which  animated  Christ  when  he  offered  him- 
self on  the  cross  for  the  sins  of  the  world. 

These  are  some  of  the  stumbling-blocks  in  the 
way  of  the  world.  And  xoo  unto  the  world,  says 
our  Lord,  because  of  offences !  for  it  must  needs 
be  that  offences  come,  but  ivo  unto  him  by  who?n 
the  offence  co7neth !  Every  man,  who  is  zealous 
for  the  diffusion  of  true  religion,  should  keep 
his  eye  on  all  occasions  of  offence,  since  reli- 
gion, of  itself,  and  in  its  own  native  beauty,  has 
to  encounter  the  natural  enmity  of  the  degene- 
rate heart. 


On  Religious  Retirement. 

It  is  difficult  to  speak  on  the  stibject  of  re- 
ligious RETIREMENT.  I  am  fuUy  persuaded  that 
most  religious  tradesmen  are  defective  in  this 
duty,  those  especially  in  this  great  city.  I  tell 
every  one  of  them  so  with  whom  1  am  inti- 
mately acquainted,  and  they  all  contest  the 
point  with  me. 

Yet  there  are  some  considerations,  which, 
in  my  own  private  judgment  concerning  the 
thing,  lead  me  to  think  that  the  religion  of  a 
great  city  is  to  be  viewed  in  an  aspect  of  its 
own.  I  say  not  this  to  those  men  whom  I  see 
endangered  by  the  spirit  of  such  a  place. 
Give  them  an  inch,  and  they  will  take  an  ell. 
But  I  learn  from  it  to  aim  at  possibilities,  and 
not  to  bend  the  bow  till  it  breaks. 

I  say,  every  where  and  to  all — "  You  must 
hold  intercourse  with  God,  or  your  soul  will  die. 
You  must  walk  with  God,  or  Satan  will  walk 
with  you.  You  must  grow  in  grace,  or  you  will 
lose  it :  and  you  cannot  do  this,  but  by  appro- 
priating to  this  object  a  due  portion  of  your  time, 
and  diligently  employing  suitable  means."'  But, 
having  said  this,  I  leave  it.  I  cannot  limit  and 
define  to  such  men  the  exact  way  in  which 
they  must  apply  these  principles,  but  the  prin- 
ciples themselves  I  insist  on.  What  I  ought 
to  do  myself  under  my  circumstances,  1  know : 
and  what  I  ought  to  do  were  I  in  trade,  I  seem 
now  to  know  :  but  what  I  really  should  do 
were  I  in  trade,  1  know  not :  and,  because  I 
know  it  not,  I  am  afraid,  in  telling  another  man 
precisely  how  he  ought  to  apply  this  principle, 
that  1  should  act  hypocritically  and  pharisai- 
cally.    Stated  seasons  of  retirement  ought  to 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


59 


be  appointed  and  religiously  observed  ;  but  the 
time  and  the  measure  of  this  retirement  must 
be  left  to  a  man's  own  judgment  and  con- 
science. 

I  am  restrained  from  dogmatizing  on  the 
subject,  by  reflecting  on  the  sort  of  religion 
which  seems  in  fact  to  be  best  suited  to 
human  nature  itself,  and  especially  to  human 
nature  harassed,  worried,  loaded,  and  urged 
as  it  is  in  this  great  city. 

But  I  am  restrained  also  by  another  consider- 
ation.— Difference  of  character  seems  to  stamp 
a  holy  variety  on  the  operation  of  religious 
principle.  Some  men  live  in  a  spirit  of  prayer, 
who  are  scarcely  able  to  fix  themselves  steadily 
to  the  solemn  aci  of  prayer. — Our  characters 
are  so  much  our  own,  that,  if  a  man  were  to 
come  into  my  family  in  order  to  form  himself 
on  my  model,  and  to  imitate  me  for  a  month, 
it  might  seriously  injure  him.  I  have  a  favorite 
■walk  of  twenty  steps  in  my  study  and  cham- 
ber :  that  walk  is  my  oratory  :  but,  if  another 
man  were  obliged  to  walk  as  he  prayed,  it  is 
very  probable  he  could  not  pray  at  all. 

In  defining  the  operation  of  religious  princi- 
ple, I  am  afraid  of  becoming  an  Albert  Durer. 
Albert  Durer  gave  rules  for  forming  the  per- 
fect figure  of  a  man.  He  marked  and  defined 
all  the  relations  and  proportions.  Albert 
Durer's  man  became  the  model  of  perfection 
in  every  Academy  in  Europe :  and  now  every 
Academy  in  Europe  has  abandoned  it,  because 
no  such  figure  was  ever  found  in  nature.  I  am 
afraid  of  reducing  the  variety,  which,  to  a  cer- 
tain degree,  may  be  of  God's  own  forming,  to 
my  notion  of  perfection.  "  You  must  main- 
tain and  cultivate  a  spirit  of  devotion" — I  say 
to  all:  "but  be  ye  judges,  as  conscientious 
men,  of  the  particular  means  suited  to  your 
circumstances." 

The  SPIRIT  of  devotion  should  be  our  great 
aim.  We  are,  indeed,  buried  in  sense,  and 
cannot  possibly  attain  or  improve  this  spirit, 
but  by  proper  means :  yet  these  means  are  to 
be  adapted  and  varied  to  character  and  situation. 

"  I  MUST  walk  with  God.  In  some  way  or 
other,  whatever  be  my  character  or  profession, 
I  MUST  acquire  the  holy  habit  of  connecting 
every  thing  that  passes  in  my  house  and  affairs 
with  God.  If  sickness  or  health  visit  my 
family,  my  eye  must  see  and  my  heart  must  ac- 
knowledge the  hand  of  God  therein.  Whether 
my  affairs  move  on  smoothly  or  ruggedly,  God 
must  be  acknowledged  in  them.  If  I  go  out 
of  my  house  or  come  into  it,  I  must  go  out 
and  come  in  as  under  the  eye  of  God.  If  I 
am  occupied  in  business  all  day  long,  I  must 
still  have  the  glory  of  God  in  my  view.  If  I 
have  any  affair  to  transact  with  another,  I 
must  pray  that  God  would  be  with  us  in  that 
affair,  lest  we  should  blunder,  and  injure  and 
ruin  each  other." 

This  is  the  language  of  a  real  Christian. 
But  instead  of  such  a  spirit  as  this  among  the 
great  body  of  tradesmen  professing  themselves 
religious — what  do  we  see  but  a  driving,  im- 
petuous pursuit  of  the  world ! — and,  in  this 
pursuit,  not  seldom — mean,  low,  suspicious, 
yea,  immoral  practices 


Yet  I  once  went  to  a  friend  for  the  express 
purpose  of  calling  him  out  into  the  world.  I 
said  to  him — "It  is  your  duty  to  accept  the 
loan  of  ten  thousand  pounds,  and  to  push  your- 
self forward  into  an  ampler  sphere."  But  he 
was  a  rare  character  :  and  his  case  was  rare. 
His  employers  had  said,  "We  are  ashamed 
you  should  remain  so  long  a  servant  in  our 
house,  with  the  whole  weight  of  affairs  on 
you.  We  wish  you  to  enter  as  a  principal  with 
us,  and  will  advance  you  ten  thousand  pounds. 
It  is  the  custom  of  the  city — it  is  your  due — 
we  are  dissatisfied  to  see  you  in  your  present 
sphere."  I  assured  him  that  it  appeared  to 
me  to  be  his  duty  to  accede  to  the  proposal. 
But  I  did  not  prevail.  He  said — "  Sir,  I  have 
often  heard  from  you  that  it  is  no  easy  thing 
to  get  to  heaven.  I  have  often  heard  from  you 
that  it  is  no  easy  thing  to  master  the  world. 
I  have  every  thing  I  wish.  More  would  encum- 
ber me — increase  my  difficulties — aud  endan- 
ger me." 

Solitude  shows  us  what  we  should  be : 
society  shows  us  what  we  are.  Yet,  in  the 
theory,  solitude  shows  us  our  true  character 
better  than  society.  A  man  in  his  closet  will 
find  nature  putting  herself  forth  in  actings, 
which  the  presence  of  others  would  restrain 
him  from  bringing  into  real  effect.  She 
schemes  and  she  wishes,  here,  without  re- 
serve. She  is  pure  nature.  Au  enlightened 
and  vigilant  self-observer  is  surprised  and 
alarmed.  He  puts  himself  on  his  guard.  He 
goes  forth  armed  into  the  world.  But  society 
shows  him  that  nature  is  practically  evil.  The 
circumstances  of  the  day  as  they  arise  carry 
him  away.  If  he  could  abstract  himself,  and 
follow  the  actings  of  his  own  mind  with  an 
impartial  eye,  he  could  not  believe  himself  to 
be  the  man  who  had  entered  into  the  world 
with  such  holy  resolutions. 

Recollection  is  the  life  of  religion.  The 
Christian  wants  to  know  no  new  thing,  but  to 
have  his  heart  elevated  more  above  the  world, 
by  secluding  himself  from  it  as  much  as  his 
duties  will  allow,  that  religion  may  effect  this 
its  great  end  by  bringing  its  sublime  hopes  and 
prospects  into  more  steady  action  on  the  mind. 

I  know  not  how  it  is,  that  some  Christians 
can  make  so  little  of  recollection  and  retire- 
ment. I  find  the  spirit  of  the  world  a  strong 
assimilating  principle.  I  find  it  hurrying  my 
mind  away  in  its  vortex,  and  sinking  me  among 
the  dregs  and  filth  of  carnal  nature.  Even 
my  ministerial  employments  would  degene- 
rate into  a  mere  following  of  my  trade  and 
crying  of  my  wares.  I  am  obliged  to  with- 
draw myself  regularly,  and  to  say  to  my  heart, 
"  What  are  you  doing  !— Where  are  you  V 

On  a  Spiritual  Mind. 

Dr.  Owen  says,  if  a  man  of  a  carnal  mind  is 
brought  into  a  large  company,  he  will  have 
much  to  do:  if  into  a  company  of  Christians, 
he  will  feel  little  interest:  if  into  a  smaller 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


company  engaged  in  religious  exercises,  he 
will  feel  still  less :  but  if  taken  into  a  closet  and 
forced  to  meditate  on  God  and  eternity,  this 
will  be  insupportable ! 

The  spiritual  man  is  born,  as  it  were,  into  a 
new  world.  He  has  a  new  taste.  He  savors 
the  things  of  the  Spirit.  He  turns  to  God,  as 
the  needle  to  the  pole. 

This  is  a  subject  of  which  many  can  under- 
stand but  little.  They  want  spiritual  taste. 
Nay,  they  account  it  enthusiasm.  Bishop 
Horsley  will  go  all  the  way  with  Christians 
into  their  principles :  but  he  thinks  the  feelings 
and  desires  of  a  spiritual  mind  enthusiastical. 

There  are  various  CHARACTERISTICS  of 
a  spiritual  mind. 

Self-loathing  is  a  characteristic  of  such  a 
mind.  The  axe  is  laid  to  the  root  of  a  vain- 
glorious spirit. 

It  maintains,  too,  a  walk  and  converse  with 
God.  Enoch  ivalked  with  God.  There  is  a 
transaction  between  God  and  the  spiritual 
mind:  if  the  man  feels  dead  and  heartless, 
that  is  matter  of  complaint  to  God.  He  looks 
to  God  for  wisdom  for  the  day — for  the  hour 
— for  the  business  in  hand. 

A  spiritual  mind  refers  its  affairs  to  God! 
"  Let  God's  Avill  be  obeyed  by  me  in  this  affair. 
His  way  may  differ  from  that  which  I  should 
choose !  but"  let  it  be  so :  Sureh/,  1  have  behaved 
and  quieted  myself  as  a  child  that  is  weaned  of 
his  mother:  my  soul  is  even  as  a  weaned  child.''^ 

A  spiritual  mind  has  something  of  the  nature 
of  the  sensitive  plant.  "  I  sliall  smart  if  I 
touch  this  or  that."  There  is  a  holy  shrinking 
away  from  evil. 

A  spiritual  mind  enjoys,  at  times,  the  influx 
of  a  holy  joy  and  satisfaction,  which  sur- 
prises even  itself.  When  bereaved  of  creature 
comforts,  it  can  sometimes  find  such  a  repose 
in  Christ  and  his  promises,  that  the  man  can 
say,  "  Well !  it  is  enough  :  let  God  take  from 
me  what  else  he  pleases !" 

A  spiritual  mind  is  a  mortified  mind.  Tiie 
Church  of  Rome  talks  much  of  mortification, 
but  her  mortification  is  not  radical  and  spirit- 
ual. Simon  Stylites  will  willingly  mortify 
himself  on  his  pillar,  if  he  can  bring  people 
around  him  to  pray  to  him,  to  pray  for  them. 
But  the  spiritual  mind  must  mortify  itself  in 
whatever  would  retard  its  ascent  toward 
heaven:  it  must  rise  on  the  wings  of  faith, 
and  hope,  and  love. 

A  spiritual  mind  is  an  ingenuous  mind.  There 
is  a  sort  of  hypocrisy  in  us  all.  We  are  not 
quite  stripped  of  all  disguise.  One  man  wraps 
round  him  a  covering  of  one  kind,  and  another 
of  another.  They,  who  think  they  do  not  this, 
yet  do  it  though  they  know  it  not. 

Yet  this  spiritual  mind  is  a  sublime  mind.  It 
has  a  vast  and  extended  view.  It  has  seen  the 
glory  and  beauty  of  Christ,  and  cannot  there- 
fore admire  the  '^nodhi  buddings  of  the  temple  : 
as  Christ,  says  Fciielon,  had  seen  his  Father's 
house,  and  could  not  therefore  be  taken  with 
the  glory  of  the  earthly  structure! 

T  would  urge  young  persons,  when  they  are 
staglered  by  the  conversation  of  people  of 
the  world,  to  dwell  on  the  characteristics  of  a 


spiritual  mind.  "  If  you  cannot  answer  their 
arguments,  yet  mark  their  spirit:  and  mark 
what  a  contrary  spirit  that  is  which  you  are 
called  to  cultivate." 

There  are  various  MEANS  of  maintaining 
and  promoting  a  spiritual  mind.  Beware  of 
saying  concerning  this  or  that  evil,  Is  it  not 
a  little  one  ?  Much  depends  on  mortifying  the 
body.  There  are  silent  marches  which  the 
flesh  will  steal  on  us: — the  temper  is  too  apt 
to  rise :  the  tongue  will  let  itself  loose :  the 
imagination,  if  liberty  is  given  to  it,  will  hurry 
us  away.  Vain  company  will  injure  the  mind : 
carnal  professors  of  religion  especially  will 
lower  its  tone:  we  catch  a  contagion  from 
such  men.  Misemployment  of  time  is  inju- 
rious to  the  mind :  when  reflecting,  in  illness, 
on  my  past  years,  I  have  looked  back  with  self- 
reproach  on  days  spent  in  my  study:  I  was 
wading  through  history,  and  poetry,  and  month- 
ly journals;  but  I  was  in  my  study!  Another 
man's  trifling  is  notorious  to  all  observers: 
but  what  am  /doing"? — Nothing,  perhaps,  that 
has  a  reference  to  the  spiritual  good  of  my 
congregation!  I  do  not  speak  against  a  chas- 
tised attention  to  literature,  but  the  abuse  of  it. 
Avoid  all  idleness  :  exercise  thyself  unto  godli- 
ness ;  plan  for  God.  Beware  of  temptation  : 
the  mind,  which  has  dwelt  on  sinful  objects, 
will  be  in  darkness  for  days.  Associate  with 
spiritually-minded  men  :  the  very  sight  of  a 
good  man,  though  he  says  nothing,  will  refresh 
the  soul.  Contemplate  Christ:  be  much  in  re- 
tirement and  prayer:  study  the  honor  and 
glory  of  your  Master. 

On  Declension  in  Religioii. 

A  Christian  may  decline  far  in  religion,  with- 
out being  suspected.  He  may  maintain  ap- 
pearances. Every  thing  seems  to  others  to 
go  on  well.  He  suspects  himself;  for  it  re- 
quires great  labor  to  maintain  appearances, 
especially  in  a  minister.  Discerning  hearers 
will,  however,  often  detect  such  declensions. 
He  talks  over  his  old  matters.  He  says  his 
things,  but  in  a  cold*  and  unfeeling  manner. 
He  is  sound,  indeed,  in  doctrine  ;  perhaps  more 
sound  than  before ;  for  there  is  a  great  ten- 
dency to  soundness  of  doctrine,  when  ap- 
pearances are  to  be  keot  up  in  a  declining 
state  of  the  heart. 

Where  a  man  has  real  grace,  u  maybe  part 
of  a  dispensation  toward  him  that  he  is  suf- 
fered to  decline.  He  walked  carelessly.  He 
was  left  to  decline,  that  he  might  be  brought 
to  feel  his  need  of  vigilance.  If  he  is  indulging 
a  besetting  sin,  it  may  please  God  to  expose 
him,  especially  if  he  is  a  high-spirited  man, 
that  he  may  hang  down  his  head  as  long  as  he 
lives.  He  acted  thus  toward  David  and  Heze- 
kiah.  But  this  is  pulling  down  in  order  to 
build  up  again. 

The  CAUSES  of  a  decline  in  religion 
should  be  remarked. 

The  world  has  always  much  to  do  in  reli- 
gious declension.  A  minister  is  tempted,  per- 
haps, to  sacrifice  every  thing  to  a  name.  If 
any  appetite  is   suffered  to  prevail,  it  will 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


stupify  the  mind:  religion  is  an  abstract  and 
elevated  affair :  The  way  of  life  above  is  to  the 
wise,  to  depart  from  hell  beneath.     Keeping  on 

GOOD    TERMS    WITH  THOSE  WHO    RESPECT    US,  iS    a 

snare.  A  speculative  turn  of  mind  is  a  snare : 
it  leads  to  that  evil  heart  of  unbelief  ivhich  de- 
parts from  the  living  God.  Vain  confidence 
thinks  himself  in  no  danger:  he  knows  the 
trnth:  he  can  dispute  for  the  truth:  "What 
should  we  fearV  Why,  that  we  have  no  fear. 
Trifling  with  conscience  is  a  snare  :  no  man 
indulges  himself  in  any  thing  which  his  con- 
science tells  him  ought  not  to  be  done,  but  it 
will  at  length  wear  away  his  spirituality  of 
mind. 

The  SYMPTOMS  of  a  religious  decline  are 
many : — 

When  a  minister  begins  to  depart  from  God, 
and  to  lose  a  spiritual  mind,  he  becomes  fond 
sometimes  of  genteel  company,  who  can  en- 
tertain him,  and  who  know  how  to  respect  his 
character!  This  genteel  spirit  is  suspicious : 
it  is  associated  with  pride  and  delicacy,  and  a 
love  of  ease :  in  short,  it  is  the  spirit  of  the 
world.  It  is  the  reverse  of  condescending  to 
mean  things:  it  is  the  reverse  of  the  spirit 
of  our  Master. 

It  is  a  symptom  of  decline,  when  a  man  will 
unnecessarily  expose  the  imperfections  of  the 
RELIGIOUS  WORLD.  "  Such  a  iiian,"  he  will  say, 
*'  is  fond  of  praying;  but  he  is  fond  of  money." 
This  is  the  very  opposite  spirit  to  that  of  St. 
Paul,  who  speaks  even  iveeping  of  those  who 
mi7id  earthly  things. 

A  VIOLENT  sectarian  SPIRIT  is  a  sign  of  re- 
ligious declension.  Honest  men  stand  firm 
for  the  vitals  of  religion.  If  the  mind  were 
right,  the  circumstantials  of  religion  would  not 
be  made  matters  of  fierce  contention.  Tlie 
spirit  of  St.  Paul  was  of  another  kind.  If  meal 
make  my  brother  to  offend,  I  tvill  eat  no  meat 
while  the  tvorld  standelh,  lest  I  make  my  brother 
to  offend — One  bclicveth  that  he  may  eat  all  things  : 
another,  who  is  iveak,  cateth  herbs.  Let  not  him, 
that  eateth,  despise  hi/n  that  eateth  not ;  and  let 
not  him,  ivhich  eateth  not,  judge  him  that  eateth. 

Aversion  from  reproof  marks  a  state  of  re- 
ligious decline.  The  man  cannot  bear  to  have 
his  state  depicted,  even  in  the  pulpit.  He  calls 
the  preaching,  which  searches  and  detects  him, 
Arminian  and  legal.  Hast  thou  found  me,  O 
mine  enemy?  Why  should  he  quarrel  with  the 
truth]  If  that  truth  is  dehvered  in  its  just  pro- 
portions, his  quarrel  is  with  God  I 

Stupidity  under  chastise:ment  proves  a  man 
to  be  under  declension.  He  is  not  disposed 
to  ask.  Wherefore  dost  thou  contend  tuith  me  1 
He  is  kicking  against  the  pricks.  He  is  stricken, 
but  has  not  grieved.  He  is  chastised,  as  a  bullock 
unaccustomed  to  the  yoke. 

Such  a  man,  too,  has  often  a  high  mind.  He 
is  unhumbled — boasting — stout-hearted.  He 
is  ready  to  censure  every  one  but  himself. 

Unnecessary  occup.\tion  is  another  evi- 
dence of  declension.  Some  men  are  unavoid- 
ably much  engaged  in  the  world.  To  such 
men  God  will  give  especial  grace,  if  they  seek 
it;  and  they  shall  maintain  a  spirit  of  devo- 
tion, even  in  the  bustle  and  occupation  of 
loe  36 


their  affairs.  But  some  men  will  be  rich,  and 
therefore /a//  into  temptation  and  a  snare:  they 
will  have  shops  in  a  different  part  of  the  town  : 
they  say  they  do  not  feel  this  affect  their  reli- 
gious state  ;  but  I  cannot  believe  them  :  a  man 
is  declined  from  God  before  he  enters  on  such 
schemes :  a  spiritual  and  devout  man  will  gene- 
rally find  the  business  in  which  he  is  already 
engaged  a  sufficient  snare. 

In  short,  the  symptoms  may  be  this  or  that, 
but  the  disease  is  a  dead  palsy.  Ephraim !  he 
hath  mixed  himself  among  the  people:  Ephraim 
is  a  cake  not  turned.  Strangers  have  devoured  his 
strength,  and  he  knoweth  it  not:  yea,  gray  hairs 
are  here  and  there  upon  him,  yet  he  knoweth  it  not. 

On   a  Christian's   associating  with   Irreligious 
Persons  for  their  good. 

Christ  is  an  example  to  us  of  entering  into 
mixed  society.  But  our  imitation  of  him 
herein  must  admit  of  restrictions.  A  feeble 
man  must  avoid  danger.  If  any  one  could  go 
into  society  as  Christ  did,  then  let  him  go :  let 
him  attend  marriage-feasts  and  Pharisees' 
houses. 

Much  depends  on  a  Christian's  observing 
his  call — the  openings  which  Providence  may 
make  before  him.  It  is  not  enough  to  say 
that  he  frequents  public  company  in  order  to 
retard  the  progress  of  evil. 

But,  when  in  company  of  people  of  the 
world,  we  should  treat  them  kindly  and  ten- 
derly— with  feeling  and  compassion.  They 
should  be  assisted,  if  they  are  inclined  to  re- 
ceive assistance.  But  if  a  Christian  falls  into 
tlie  society  of  a  mere  worldling,  it  must  be 
like  the  meeting  of  two  persons  in  a  rain — 
they  will  part  as  soon  as  possible.  If  a  man 
loves  such  company,  it  is  an  evil  symptom. 

It  is  a  Christian's  duty  to  maintain  a  kind 
intercourse,  if  practicable,  with  his  relatives. 
And  he  nuist  duly  appreciate  their  state  :  if 
not  religious,  they  cannot  see  and  feel  and 
taste  his  enjoyments:  they  accommodate 
tiiemselves  to  him,  and  he  accommodates 
himself  to  them.  It  is  much  a  matter  of  ac- 
commodation on  both  sides. 

Avoid  disgusting  such  friends  unnecessa- 
rily. A  precise  man,  for  instance,  must  be 
humored.  Your  friends  set  down  your  religion, 
perhaps,  as  a  case  of  humor. 

Cultivate  good  sense.  If  your  friends  per- 
ceive you  weak  in  any  part  of  your  views  and 
conduct,  they  will  think  you  weak  in  your  re- 
ligion. 

Avoid  vain  jangling.  There  is  a  disposi- 
tion in  such  friends  to  avoid  important  and 
pinching  truth.  If  you  will  converse  with 
them  on  the  subject  of  religion,  they  will  often 
endeavor  to  draw  you  on  to  such  points  as 
predestination.  They  will  ask  you  what  you 
think  of  the  salvation  of  infants  and  of  the 
heathen.  All  this  is  meant  to  throw  out  the 
great  question. 

Seize  favorable  occasions — not  only  the 
"  mollta  temporafandi,'"  but  when  public  charac- 
ters and  public  events  furnish  occasions  of 
profitable  reflection.  Bring  before  your  friends 


63 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


THE    EXTREME   CHILDISHNESS    OF  A  SINFUL   STATE. 

Treat  worldly  amusements  as  puerile  things. 
People  of  the  world  are  sick  at  heart  of  their 
very  pleasures. 

On  the  Christian  Sabbath. 

It  belongs  to  our  very  relation  to  God,  to 
set  apart  a  portion  of  our  time  for  his  service  : 
but,  as  it  might  have  been  difficult  for  con- 
science to  determine  what  that  portion  should 
be,  God  has  prescribed  it :  and  the  ground  of 
the  observance  remains  the  same,  whether  the 
remembrance  of  God's  resting  from  his  work, 
or  any  other  reason,  be  assigned  as  the  more 
immediate  cause. 

The  Jewish  Sabbath  was  partly  of  political 
institution,  and  partly  of  moral  obligation.  So 
far  as  it  was  a  political  appointment,  designed 
to  preserve  the  Jews  distinct  from  other  na- 
tions, it  is  abrogated  :  so  far  as  it  was  of  moral 
obligation,  it  remains  in  force. 

Our  Lord  evidently  designed  to  relax  the 
strictness  of  the  observance.  Christianity  is 
not  a  hedge  placed  round  a  peculiar  people. 
A  slave  might  enter  into  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity, though  obliged  to  work  as  a  slave  on 
the  Sabbath:  he  might  be  in  the  spirit  on  the 
Lord's  day,  though  in  the  mines  of  Patmos. 

Difficulties  often  arise  in  respect  to  the  ob- 
servance of  the  Sabbath.  I  tell  conscientious 
persons,  "  If  you  have  the  spirit  of  Christian- 
ity, and  are  in  an  employment  contrary  to 
Christianity,  you  will  labor  to  escape  from  it, 
and  God  will  open  your  way."  If  such  a  man's 
heart  be  right,  he  will  not  throw  himself  out 
of  his  employment  the  first  day  he  suspects 
himself  to  be  wrong,  but  he  will  pray  and  wait 
till  his  way  shall  be  opened  before  him. 

Christ  came  not  to  abolish  the  Sabbath,  but 
to  explain  and  enforce  it,  as  he  did  the  rest  of 
the  law.  Its  observance  was  nowhere  posi- 
tively enjoined  by  him,  because  Christianity 
was  to  be  practicable,  and  was  to  go  into  ail 
nations  :  and  it  goes  thither  stripped  of  its  pre- 
cise and  various  circumstances.  /  was  in  the 
spirit  on  the  Lord's  day,  seems  to  be  the  soul 
of  the  Christian  Sabbath. 

In  this  view  of  the  day,  a  thousand  frivolous 
questions  concerning  its  observance  would  be 
answered.  "  What  can  I  do  ■!"  says  one :  I  an- 
swer, "  Do  what  true  servants  of  God  will  do. 
Bend  not  to  what  is  wrong.  Be  in  the  spirit. 
God  will  help  you." 

In  short,  we  are  going  to  spend  a  Sabbath 
in  eternity.  The  Christian  will  acquire  as 
much  of  the  Sabbath  spirit  as  he  can.  And, 
in  proportion  to  a  man's  real  piety  in  every 
age  of  the  church,  he  will  be  found  to  have 
been  a  diligent  observer  of  the  Sabbath  day. 

On  Judging  justh/. 
A  PERFECTLY  just  and  sound  mind  is  a  rare 
and  invaluable  gift.  But  it  is  still  much  more 
unusual  to  see  such  a  mind  unbiased  in  all  its 
actines.  God  has  given  this  soundness  of 
mind  but  to  few;  and  a  verv  s>a:,ll  number  of 
thuse  few  escape  the  bias  of  some  predilec- 
tion, perhaps  habitually  operating ;  and  none 


are  at  all  times  and  perfectly  free.  I  once 
saw  this  subject  forcibly  illustrated.  A  watch- 
maker told  me  that  a  gentleman  had  put  an 
exquisite  watch  into  his  hands,  that  went  ir- 
regularly. It  was  as  perfect  a  piece  of  work 
as  was  ever  made.  He  took  it  to  pieces  and 
put  it  together  again  twenty  times.  No  man- 
ner of  defect  was  to  be  discovered,  and  yet  the 
watch  went  intolerably.  At  last  it  struck  him, 
that,  possibly,  the  balance-wheel  might  have 
been  near  a  magnet.  On  applying  a  needle 
to  it,  he  found  his  suspicions  true.  Here  was 
all  the  mischief.  The  steel  work  in  the  other 
parts  of  the  watch  had  a  perpetual  influence 
on  its  motions ;  and  the  watch  went  as  well  as 
possible  with  a  new  wheel.  If  the  soundest 
mind  be  magnetized  by  any  predilection,  it  must 
act  irregularly. 

Prejudice  is  often  the  result  of  such  strong 
associations,  that  it  acts  involuntarily,  in  spite 
of  conviction  and  resolution.  The  first  step 
toward  its  eradication  is  the  persevering  habit 
of  presenting  it  to  the  mind  in  its  true  colors. 

If  a  man  will  look  at  most  of  his  prejudices, 
he  will  find  that  they  arise  from  his  field  of 
view  being  necessarily  narrow  like  the  eye  of 
the  fly.  He  can  have  but  little  better  notions 
of  the  whole  scheme  of  things,  as  has  been 
well  said,  than  a  ily  on  the  pavement  of  St. 
Paul's  cathedral  can  have  of  the  whole  struc- 
ture. He  is  offended,  therefore,  by  inequali- 
ties which  are  lost  in  the  grand  design.  This 
persuasion  will  fortify  him  against  many  inju- 
rious and  troublesome  prejudices. 

Just  judgment  depends  on  the  simplicity  and 
the  strength  of  the  mind.  The  eye  which  con- 
veys a  perfect  idea  of  the  scene  to  the  mind, 
must  be  unclouded  and  strong.  If  the  mental 
eye  be  not  single,  the  judgment  will  be  warped 
by  some  little,  mean,  and  selfish  interests  ;  and, 
if  it  be  not  capable  of  a  wide  and  distant  range, 
the  decision  will  be  partial  and  imperfect.  For 
example  :  a  man,  with  either  of  these  failings, 
will  be  likely  to  blind  his  eyes  from  the  con- 
viction that  would  dart  on  him,  when  he  places 
a  son  or  a  friend  in  any  sphere  of  influence, 
because  he  is  his  son  or  his  friend;  when  a  sin- 
gle or  a  strong  eye  would  show  him  that  the 
interests  of  religion  and  truth  required  him  to 
prefer  some  other  person.  The  mind  nuist  be 
raised  above  the  petty  interests  and  aff'airs  of 
life,  and  pursue  supremely  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  church. 

Some  minds  arc  so  diseased,  that  they  can 
see  an  afftiir  only  in  that  light  in  which  pas- 
sion or  predilection  first  presented  it,  or  as  it 
appears  on  the  surface.  The  essence,  the 
truth  of  the  thing,  which  must  give  character 
to  the  whole,  and  on  which  alf  just  decisiOTi 
must  depend,  may  lie  beneath  the  surface,  and 
may  be  a  nice  affair.  But  such  minds  cannot 
enter  into  it.  It  is  as  though  I  should  try  to 
convince  such  persons— allowing  me  that  the 
pineal  gland  is  the  seat  of  the  soul — that,  how- 
ever fair  and  perfect  the  form,  the  man  want- 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


63 


ed  the  essence  of  his  being,  in  wanting  that 
apparently  insignificant  part  of  his  body.  Such 
men  woilu  say,  '•  here  is  a  strikin^r  aiul  perfect 
form— all  part's  are  harmonious — ^life  animates 
the  frame — the  machine  plays  admirably— 
what  has  this  httle  insignificant  member  to  do 
M'ith  itV  And  yet  this  is  the  essential  and 
characterizing  part  of  the  man. 

Every  man  has  a  peculiar  turn  of  mind, 
which  gives  a  coloring  and  tinge  to  his 
thoughts.  I  have  paiticularly  detected  this  in 
myself,  with  respect  to  public  affairs.  I  have 
such  an  immediate  view  of  God  acting  in  them, 
that  all  the  great  men,  who  make  such  a  noise 
and  bustle  on  the  scene,  seem  to  me  like  so 
many  mere  puppets.  God  is  moving  them  all, 
to  effect  his  own  designs.  They  cannot  ad- 
vance a  step,  whither  he  does  not  lead:  nor 
stand  a  moment,  where  he  does  not  place 
them.  Now  this  is  a  view  of  things  which  it 
is  my  privilege  to  take  as  a  Christian.  But 
the  evil  lies  here.  I  dwell  so  much  on  the 
view  of  the  matter,  to  which  the  turn  of  my 
mind  leads  me,  that  I  forget  sometimes  the 
natural  tendencies  of  things.  God  uses  all 
things,  but  not  so  as  to  destroy  their  natural 
tendencies.  They  are  good  or  evil,  according 
to  their  own  nature ;  not  according  to  the  use 
which  he  makes  of  them. 

The  mind  has  a  constant  tendency  to  con- 
form itself  to  the  sentiments  and  cast  of  think- 
ing with  which  it  is  chiefly  conversant,  either 
among  books  or  men.  If  the  influence  remain 
nndetected,  it  grows  soon  into  an  inveterate 
habit  of  obliquity.  Even  if  it  be  detected,  it 
is  the  most  difficult  thing  in  the  world  to  bring 
back  the  mind  to  the  standard,  especially  if 
there  be  any  thing  in  its  constitution  which 
assimilates  itself  to  the  error.  I  was  once 
much  in  the  habit  of  reading  the  mystical 
writers :  a  book  of  Dr.  Owen's  clearly  con- 
vinced me  that  they  erred:  yet  I  found  my 
mind  ever  inclining  towards  them,  and  wind- 
ing round  like  the  biased  bowl.  I  saw  clear- 
ly the  absurdity  of  the  notions  in  their  view 
of  them,  and  yet  I  was  ever  talking  of  "  self- 
annihilation,"  &c.,  and  am  not  even  now  rid 
of  the  thinjr. 


On  the  Character  of  St.  Paul. 

I  DELIGHT  to  contemplate  St.  Paul  as  an  ap- 
pointed pattern.  Men  might  have  questioned 
the  propriety  of  urging  on  them  the  example 
of  Christ — they  might  have  said  that  we  are 
necessarily  in  dissimilar  circumstances.  But 
St.  Paul  stands  up  in  like  case  with  ourselves 
— a  model  of  ministerial  virtues. 

We  consider  him,  perhaps,  in  point  of  cha- 
racter, more  tlie  immediate  subject  of  extra- 
ordinary inspiration  than  he  was  in  reality. 
And  this  mistake  affects  our  view  of  him  in 
two  different  ways. 

We  suppose,  at  one  time,  that  his  virtues 
were  so  much  the  effect  of  extraordinary  com- 
munications, that  he  is  no  proper  model  for 
us ;  whereas  he  was  no  farther  fitted  to  his  cir- 


cumstances than  every  Christian  has  warrant 

to  expect  to  be,  so  far  as  his  circumstances 

arc  siri;;i;ir. 

At  another  time,  perhaps,  though  we  ac- 
knowledge and  revere  his  distinguished  cha- 
racter, yet  our  view  of  his  virtues  is  exalted 
beyond  due  measure.  We  should  remember, 
that,  as  he  v/as  fitted  for  his  circumstances,  so 
he  was,  in  a  great  degree,  made  by  them. 
Many  men  are,  doubtless,  executing  their  ap- 
pointed task  in  retirement  and  silence,  who 
would  unfold  a  character  beyond  all  expecta- 
tion, if  Providence  were  to  lead  them  into  a 
scene  where  the  world  rose  up  in  arms,  and 
they  were  sent  forth  into  it  under  a  clear  con- 
viction of  an  especial  mission.  The  history 
of  the  church  seems  to  show  us  that  the  effects 
of  grace,  ordinary  or  extraordinary,  have  been 
the  same  in  all  ages. 

In  speaking  of  St.  Paul,  it  has  been  usual  to 
magnify  his  learning,  among  the  many  other 
great  qualities  which  he  possessed.  That 
point  seems  never  to  have  been  satisfactorily 
made  out.  He  was  an  educated  Pharisee ;  but, 
farther  than  this,  I  think  we  cannot  go.  His 
quotations  from  the  Greek  poets  are  not  evi- 
dences of  even  a  schoolboy's  learning  in  our 
day :  for  we  forget,  when  we  talk  of  them, 
that  he  was  a  Roman  quoting  Greek.  Nor  do 
I  see  any  thing  more  in  his  famous  speech  in 
the  Areopagus,  so  often  produced  as  evidence 
on  this  subject,  than  the  line  of  argument  to 
which  a  strong  and  energetic  mind  would  lead 
him.  If  we  talk  of  his  talents,  indeed,  he  rises 
almost  beyond  admiration :  but  they  were  tal- 
ents of  a  certain  order ;  and  the  very  display 
which  we  have  of  them  seems  a  strong  cor- 
roborative proof,  that  he  is  not  to  be  consid- 
ered as  a  profoundly  learned  man  of  his  day. 
For  instance,  had  he  studied  Aristotle,  it  would 
have  been  almost  impossible  but  he  must  have 
caught  some  influence,  which  we  shoiiM  have 
seen  in  his  writings.  But  there  is  nothing  like 
the  drv,  logical,  metaphysical  character  of  that 
school,  which  yet  had  then  gi^-en  the  law  to 
the  seats  of  science  and  philo-sophy.  Instead 
of  this,  we  see  everywhere  the  copious,  dif- 
fusive, declaiming,  discursi'-e,  but  sublime,  and 
wise,  and  effective  mind 

There  is  a  true  apcstolicism  in  the  charac- 
ter of  St.  Paul.  It  iS  a  combination  of  zeal 
and  LOVE. 

The  zeal  of  some  men  is  of  a  haughty,  un- 
bendinff,  ferociou?  character.  They  have  the 
letter  of  truth,  hit  they  mount  the  pulpit  like 
prize-fighters.  It  is  with  them  a  perpetual 
scold.  This  spirit  is  a  reproach  to  the  Gospel. 
It  is  not  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  seems 
to  have  labored  to  win  men. 

But  there  is  an  opposite  extreme.  The  love 
of  some  men  is  all  milk  and  mildness!  There 
is  so  much  delicacy,  and  so  much  fastidious- 
ness !  They  touch  with  such  tenderness  !— 
and  if  the  patient  shrinks,  they  will  touch  no 
more !  The  times  are  too  flagrant  for  such  a 
disposition.  The  Gospel  is  sometimes  preach- 
ed in  this  way,  till  all  the  people  agree  with 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


the  preacher.     He  gives  no  offence,  and  he 
does  no  good !  ,,,:,,, 

But  St.  Paul  united  and  blended  love  and 
zeal.  He  must  win  souls:  but  he  will  labor  to 
do  this  by  all  possible  lawful  contrivances.  I 
am  made  all  things  to  all  men,  that  I  might  hy  all 
means  save  so7ne.  Zeal,  alone,  may  degenerate 
into  ferociousness  and  brutality;  and  love, 
alone,  into  fastidiousness  and  delicacy  :  but  the 
apostle  combined  both  qualities  ;  and,  more 
perfectly  than  other  men,  realized  the  union 
of  the  fortiter  in  re  with  the  suaviter  in  modo. 

Miscellanies. 
The  Moravians  seem  to  have  very  nearly  hit 
on  Christianity.  They  appear  to  have  found 
out  what  sort  of  a  thing  it  is — its  quietness — 
meekness— patience  —  spirituality — heavenli- 
iiess — and  order.  But  they  want  fire.  A  very 
superior  woman  among  them  once  said  to  me 
—that  there  wanted  another  body,  the  charac- 
ter of  which  should  be  combined  from  the  Mo- 
ravians and  the  Methodists.  The  Moravians 
have  failed,  in  making  too  little  of  preaching ; 
as  the  Methodists  have  done,  in  making  too 
much  of  it. 

The  grandest  operations,  botli  in  nature  and 
in  grace,  are  the  most  silent  and  impercepti- 
ble. The  shallow  brook  babbles  in  its  passage, 
and  is  heard  by  every  one  :  but  the  coming  on 
of  the  seasons  is  silent  and  unseen.  The 
storm  rages  and  alarms ;  but  its  fury  is  soon 
exhausted,  and  its  effects  are  partial  and  soon 
remedied :  but  the  dew,  though  gentle  and  un- 
heard, is  immense  in  quantity,  and  the  very 
life  of  large  portions  of  the  eartli.  And  these 
are  pictures  of  the  operations  of  grace,  in  the 
church  and  in  the  soul. 

Atheism  is  a  characteristic  of  our  day.  On 
the  sentiments,  manners,  pursuits,  amuse- 
ments, and  dealings  of  the  great  body  of  man- 
kind, there  is  written  in  broad  characters — 
without  God  ifl.  the  world  ! 

1  HAVE  often  had  occasion  to  observe,  that  a 
warm  blundering  \Tian  does  more  for  the  world 
than  a  frigid  wise  nv^n.  A  man,  who  gets  into 
a  habit  of  inquiring  about  proprieties  and  ex- 
pediencies and  occasiohs,  often  spends  his  life 
Avithout  doing  any  thin^  to  purpose.  The 
state  of  the  world  is  such,  and  so  much  de- 
pends on  action,  that  every  thing  seems  to  say 
loudly  to  every  man,  "  Dt  something"—"  do 
it"—"  do  it," 

Providence  is  a  greater  mystery  than  reli- 
gion. The  state  of  the  world  is  more  humi- 
liating to  our  reason,  than  the  doctrines  of  the 
Gospel.  A  reflecting  Christian  sees  more  to 
excite  his  astonishment  and  to  exercise  his 
faith,  in  the  state  of  things  between  Temple 
Bar  and  St.  Paul's,  than  in  what  he  reads  from 
Genesis  to  Revelation.  See  the  description 
of  the  working  of  God's  Providence,  in  the 
account  of  the  cherubims  in  the  1st  and  10th 
chapters  of  Ezekiel. 


The  scheme  and  machinery  of  redemption 
may  be  illustrated  by  the  water-works  at  Mar- 
ly. We  consider  a  part  of  that  complicated 
machinery,  and  we  cannot  calculate  on  the  ef- 
fects ;  but  we  see  that  they  are  produced.  Wo 
cannot  explain  to  a  philosopher  the  system  of 
redemption,  and  the  mode  of  conducting  and 
communicating  its  benefits  to  the  human  soul ; 
but  we  know  that  it  yields  the  water  of  life — 
civilization,  to  a  barbarian — direction,  to  a 
wanderer — support,  to  those  that  are  ready  to 
perish. 

It  is  manifest  that  God  designed  to  promote 
intercourse  and  commerce  among  men,  by 
giving  to  each  climate  its  appropriate  produc- 
tions. It  is,  in  itself,  not  only  innocent,  but 
laudable.  AH  trade,  however,  which  is  found- 
ed in  embellishment,  is  founded  in  depravity. 
So  also  is  that  spirit  of  trade,  which  pushes 
men  on  dangerous  competitions.  Many  trades- 
men, professedly  religious,  seem  to  look  on 
their  trade  as  a  vast  engine,  which  will  be 
worked  to  no  good  effect,  if  it  be  not  worked 
with  the  whole  vigor  of  the  soul.  This  is  an 
intoxicating  and  ruinous  mistake.  So  far  as 
they  live  under  the  power  of  religion,  thej'- 
will  pursue  their  trade  for  sustenance  and  pro- 
vision ;  but  not  even  that,  with  unseasonable 
attention  and  with  eagerness  :  much  less  will 
religion  suffer  them  to  bury  themselves  in  it, 
when  its  objects  are  something  beyond  these ; 
and,  least  of  all,  will  it  leave  them  to  deceive 
themselves  with  certain  commercial  maxims, 
so  far  removed  from  simplicity  and  integrity, 
that  I  have  been  often  shocked  beyond  meas- 
ure at  hearing  them  countenanced  and  adopt- 
ed by  some  religious  professors. 

Every  man  should  aim  to  do  one  thing  well. 
If  he  dissipates  his  attention  on  several  ob- 
jects, he  may  have  excellent  talents  intrusted 
to  him,  but  they  will  be  intrusted  to  no  good 
end.  Concentrated  on  his  proper  object,  they 
might  have  a  vast  energy ;  but,  dissipated  on 
several,  they  will  have  none.  Let  other  ob- 
jects be  pursued,  indeed;  but  only  so  far  as 
they  may  subserve  the  main  purpose.  By 
neglecting  this  rule,  I  have  seen  frivolity  and 
futility  written  on  minds  of  great  power;  an(^, 
by  regarding  it,  I  have  seen  very  limited  minds 
acting  in  the  first  rank  of  their  profession — I 
have  seen  a  large  capital  and  a  great  stock 
dissipated,  and  the  man  reduced  to  beggary ; 
and  I  have  seen  a  small  capital  and  stock  im- 
proved to  great  riches. 

To  effect  any  purpose,  in  study,  the  mind 
nuist  be  concentrated.  If  any  other  subject 
plays  on  the  fancy,  than  that  which  ought  to 
be  exclusively  before  it,  the  mind  is  divided  ; 
and  both  are  neutralized,  so  as  to  lose  their  ef- 
fect. Just  as  when  I  learnt  two  systems  of 
short-hand.  I  was  familiar  with  Gurney's 
method,  and  wrote  it  with  ease  ;  but,  when  I 
took  it  into  my  head  to  learn  Byrom's,  they 
destroyed  each.other,  and  I  could  write  neither. 

There  should  be  something  obvious,  deter- 


REMAINS    OF   MR.  CECIL. 


miiiate,  and  positive,  in  a  man's  reasons  for 
taking  a  journey;  especially  if  he  be  a  minis- 
ter. Such  events  and  consequences  may  be 
connected  with  it  in  every  step,  that  lie  ought 
in  no  case  to  be  more  simply  dependant  on 
the  great  Appointer  of  means  and  occasions. 
Several  journeys  which  I  have  thought  myself 
called  on  to  take,  I  have  since  had  reason  to 
think  I  should  not  have  taken.  Negative,  and 
even  doubtful  reasons,  may  justify  him  in 
choosing  the  safer  side  of  staying  at  home ; 
but  there  ought  to  be  something  more  in  the 
reasons  which  put  him  out  of  his  Avay,  to  meet 
the  unknown  consequences  of  a  voluntary 
change  of  station.  Let  there  always  be  a  "  be- 
cause" to  meet  the  "  why  V 

I  SOMETIMES  see,  as  I  sit  in  my  pew  at  St. 
John's  during  the  service,  an  idle  fellow  saun- 
ter into  the  chapel.  He  gapes  about  him  for 
a  few  minutes :  finds  nothing  to  interest  and 
arrest  him,  seems  scarcely  to  understand  what 
is  going  forward ;  and,  after  a  lounge  or  two, 
goes  out  again.  I  look  at  him,  and  think, 
"  Thou  art  a  wonderful  creature  !  A  perfect 
miracle  !  What  a  machine  is  that  body  !  cu- 
riously,— fearfully, — wonderfully  framed.  An 
intricate — delicate — but  harmonious  and  per- 
fect structure !  And,  then,  to  ascend  to  thy 
soul ! — its  nature  ! — its  capacities — its  actual 
state  ! — its  designation  ! — its  eternal  condition ! 
- — I  am  lost  in  amazement  ! — While  he  seems 
to  have  no  more  consciousness  of  all  this  than 
the  brutes  which  perish  !" 

Sin,  pursued  to  its  tendencies,  would  pull 
God  from  his  throne.  Though  I  have  a  deep 
conviction  of  its  exceeding  sinfulness,  I  live  not 
a  week  without  seeing  some  exhibition  of  its 
malignity  which  draws  from  me — "  Well !  who 
could  have  imagined  this  !"  Sin  would  subju- 
gate heaven,  earth,  and  hell  to  itself.  It  would 
make  the  universe  the  minion  of  its  lusts,  and 
all  beings  bow  down  and  worship. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  awful  points  of  view 
in  which  we  can  consider  God,  that,  as  a  right- 
eous governor  of  the  world,  concerned  to  vin- 
dicate his  own  glory,  he  has  laid  himself  under 
a  kind  of  holy  necessity  to  purify  the  unclean, 
or  to  sink  him  into  perdition. 

It  is  one  of  the  curses  of  error,  that  the  nvan 
who  is  the  subject  of  it,  if  he  has  had  the  op- 
portunity of  being  better  informed,  cannot  pos- 
sibly do  right,  so  far  as  he  is  under  it.  He  has 
brought  himself  into  an  utter  incapacity  of 
acting  virtuously ;  since  it  is  vicious  to  obey 
an  ill-informed  conscience,  if  that  conscience 
might  have  been  better  informed  ;  and  certain- 
ly vicious  to  disobey  conscience,  whether  it 
be  well  or  ill  informed. 

The  approaches  of  sin  are  like  the  conduct 
of  Jael.  It  brings  butter  in  a  lordl;/  dish.  It 
bids  high  for  the  soul.  But  when  it  has  fas- 
cinated and  lulled  the  victim,  the  naij  and  the 
hammer  are  behind. 


I  HAVE  met  with  one  case  in  my  ministry, 
very  frequent  and  very  distressing.  A  man 
says  to  me,  "  I  approve  all  you  say.  I  see 
things  to  be  just  as  you  state  them.  I  see  a 
necessity,  a  propriety,  a  beauty,  in  the  reli- 
gio.n  of  Christ.  I  see  it  to  be  interesting  and 
hnportant.  But  I  do  woi  feel  it.  I  cannot  feel 
it.  I  have  no  spirit  of  pra3'er.  My  heart  be- 
lies my  head:  its  affections  refuse  to  follow 
my  convictions."  If  this  complaint  be  ingen- 
uous, it  is  an  evidence  of  grace;  and  I  say, 
"Wait  for  God,  and  he  will  appear."  But, 
too  often,  it  is  not  ingenuous:  the  heart  is 
actually  indisposed  :  some  tyrant  holds  it  in 
bondage.  The  complaint  is  a  mockery — be- 
cause there  is  no  sincerity  of  endeavor  to  ob- 
tain the  object  of  which  it  pretends  to  lament 
the  want — there  is  no  sincere  desire  and 
prayer  for  the  quickening  and  breathing  of 
God's  Holy  Spirit  on  the  torpid  soul. 

The  man  who  labors  to  please  his  neighbor 
for  his  good  to  edification,  has  the  7nind  that  was 
in  Christ.  It  is  a  sinner  trying  to  help  a  sin- 
ner. How  different  the  face  of  thing:s,  if  this 
spirit  prevailed! — If  Dissenters  were  like  Hen- 
ry, and  Watts,  and  Doddridge  :  and  churchmen 
like  Leighton  !  The  man  who  comes  promi- 
nently forward  in  any  way  may  expect  to  be 
found  fault  with :  one  will  call  him  harsh,  and 
another  a  trimmer.  A  hard  man  may  be  re- 
verenced, but  men  will  like  him  best  at  a  dis- 
tance :  he  is  an  iron  man ;  he  is  not  like  Jesus 
Christ :  Christ  might  have  driven  Thomas 
from  his  presence,  for  his  unreasonable  incre- 
dulity— but  not  so !  It  is  as  though  he  had 
said,  "  I  will  come  down  to  thy  weakness  :  if 
thou  canst  not  believe  without  thrusting  thy 
hand  into  my  side,  then  thrust  in  thy  hand." 
Even  a  feeble,  but  kind  and  tender  man,  will 
eff'ect  more  than  a  genius,  who  is  rough  or 
artificial.  There  is  danger,  doubtless,  of  hu- 
moring others,  and,  against  this,  we  must  be 
on  our  guard.  It  is  a  kind  and  accommo- 
dating spirit  at  which  we  must  aim.  When 
the  two  goats  met  on  the  bridge,  which  was 
too  narrow  to  allow  them  either  to  pass  each 
other,  or  to  return,  the  goat  which  lay  down 
that  the  other  might  walk  over  him  was  a 
finer  gentleman  than  Lord  Chesterfield. 

To  expect  disease  wherever  he  goes,  and 
to  lay  himself  out  in  the  application  of  reme- 
dies, is  that  habit  of  mind  wiiich  is  best  suited 
to  a  Christian  while  he  passes  through  the 
world,  if  he  would  be  most  effectually  useful. 

The  Papists  and  Puritans  erred  in  opposite 
extremes,  in  their  treatment  of  mankind.  The 
Papists,  almost  to  a  man,  considered  the  mass 
of  men  as  mere  animals,  and  to  be  led  by  the 
senses.  Even  Fenelon  fell  into  this  way  of 
thinking.  Some  few  fine  spirits  were  to  be 
found,  which  we  A  capable  of  other  treatment : 
but  the  herd  they  thought  capable  of  nothing 
but  seeing  and  hearing.  The  Puritans,  on 
the  contrary,  treated  man  as  though  he  had 
nothing  of  the  animal  about  him.  'There  was 
among  them  a  total  excision  of  all  amuse- 


REMAINS    OF   MR.    CECIL, 


ment  and  recreation.  Every  thing  was  effort. 
Every  thing  was  severe.  I  have  heard  a  man 
of  this  school  preach  on  the  distinction  be- 
tween justifying  and  saving  faith.  He  tried 
to  make  his  hearers  enter  into  these  niceties ; 
whereas  faith,  in  its  bold  and  leading  features, 
should  have  been  presented  to  them,  if  any 
effect  was  expected.  The  bulk  of  mankind 
are  capable  of  much  more  than  the  Papist  al- 
lows, but  are  incapable  of  that  which  the  Puri- 
tan supposes.  They  should  be  treated,  in 
opposition  to  both,  as  rational  and  feeling 
creatures,  but  upon  a  bold  and  palpable  ground. 

I  HAVE  seen  such  sin  in  the  church,  that  I 
have  been  often  brought  by  it  to  a  sickly  state 
of  mind.  But,  when  I  have  turned  to  the 
world,  I  have  seen  sin  working  there  in  such 
measures  and  forms,  that  I  have  turned  back 
again  to  the  church,  with  more  wisdom  of 
mind  and  more  affection  to  it — tainted  as  it  is. 
I  see  sin,  however,  nowhere  put  on  such  an 
odious  appearance  as  in  the  church.  It  mixes 
itself  with  the  most  holy  things,  and  debases 
them,  and  turns  them  to  its  own  purposes.  It 
builds  its  nest  in  the  very  pinnacles  of  the 
temple.  The  history  of  the  primitive  ages  of 
the  church  has  also  checked  the  disgust  which 
would  arise  from  seeing  the  impure  state  of 
things  before  our  eyes.  Folly  and  wicked- 
ness sported  themselves  even  then  in  almost 
all  possible  forms.  I  turn,  in  such  states  of 
mind,  to  two  portraits  in  my  study— John 
Bradford  and  Aph.  Leighton.  These  never 
fail,  in  such  cases,  to  speak  forcibly  to  my 
heart,  that,  in  the  midst  of  all,  there  is  pure 
religion,  and  to  tell  me  what  that  religion  is. 

The  joy  of  religion  is  an  exorcist  to  the 
mind.  It  expels  the  demons  of  carnal  mirth 
and  madness. 

The  union  of  Christians  to  Christ,  their 
common  head,  and,  by  means  of  the  influence 
which  they  derive  from  him,  one  to  another, 
may  be  illustrated  by  the  loadstone.  It  not 
only  attracts  the  particles  of  iron  to  itself,  by 
the  magnetic  virtue ;  but,  by  this  virtue,  it 
unites  them  one  among  another. 

Some  considerable  defect  is  always  visible, 
in  the  greatest  men,  to  a  discerning  eye.  We 
idolize  the  best  characters,  because  we  see 
them  partially.  Let  us  acknowledge  excel- 
lence, and  ascribe  the  glory  where  it  is  due, 
while  we  honor  the  fjossessor:  but  let  us  re- 
member that  God  has,  by  leaving  his  greatest 
servants  to  the  natural  operation  of  human 
frailty,  in  some  point  or  other  of  their  cha- 
racter, written  on  the  face  of  the  Christian 
Church,  Cease  ye  from  man !  He  does  by 
perfection  in  character,  as  he  did  by  the  body 
of  Moses— he  hides  it,  that  it  may  not  be  idol- 
ized. Our  affections,  our  prejudices,  or  our 
ignorance,  cover  the  creature  with  a  dazzling 
veil :  but  he  lifts  it  up ;  and  seems  to  say, 
"  see  the  creature  you  admire  !'' 

A  MAN,  who  thinks  himself  to  have  attained 


Christian  perfection,  in  the  sense  in  which  it 
has  been  insisted  on  by  some  persons,  either 
deceives  himself,  by  calling  sin,  infirmity— or 
Satan  leaves  him  undisturbed  in  false  security 
— or  the  demon  of  pride  overcomes  the  demon 
of  lust. 

The  trials  of  the  tempted  Christian  are 
often  sent  for  the  use  of  others,  and  are  made 
the  riches  of  all  around  him. 

If  I  were  not  penetrated  with  a  conviction 
of  the  truth  of  the  Bible,  and  the  reality  of  my 
own  experience,  I  should  be  confounded  on 
all  sides — from  within,  and  from  without — in 
the  world,  and  in  the  church. 

If  a  good  man  cannot  prevent  evil,  he  will 
hang  heavy  on  its  wings,  and  retard  its  pro- 
gress. 

We  are  too  much  disposed  to  look  at  the 
outside  of  things.  The  face  of  every  affair 
chiefly  affects  us.  Were  God  to  draw  aside 
the  veil,  and  to  show  us  but  a  little  of  the 
reality,  and  the  relations  of  the  most  appa- 
rently mysterious  and  complicated  dispensa- 
tions, we  should  acquiesce  with  reverence 
and  admiration.  A  minister,  for  example,  may 
be  taken  away  in  the  beginning  of  a  promising 
career,  or  in  the  midst  of  great  usefulness.  If 
we  cannot  perceive  any  direct  reason  for  this 
Providence,  we  stand  amazed.  But,  if  we 
could  look  forward  into  the  farther  life  of 
such  men,  we  should  probably  see  that  they 
were  taken  away  in  mercy  to  themselves— to 
the  church — or  to  the  world. 

I  HAVE  seen  too  much  of  life,  to  have  any 
thing  to  do  in  the  troubled  waters  of  my 
friends,  by  way  of  giving  advice  ;  unless  they 
will  allow  me  to  remain  in  secret.  This  es- 
pecially applies  to  some  Christians  of  more 
sincerity  than  prudence.  An  opinion  given 
on  difficult  and  controverted  cases,  in  confi- 
dence of  its  being  used  only  as  a  private  prin- 
ciple of  action,  has  been  quoted  as  authority 
in  defence  of  the  conduct  founded  on  it. 

Many  duties  are  involved  on  the  very  na- 
ture of  religion,  concerning  which  there  is, 
perhaps,  not  one  express  precept  to  be  found 
in  the  Scriptures.  Private,  family,  or  public 
devotions,  are  nowhere  enjoined,  as  to  the 
time,  or  frequency,  or  manner  of  performing 
them.  Yet  they  are  so  strongly  implied  in 
the  very  nature  of  religion,  and  they  are  sup- 
posed so  necessarily  to  flow  from  the  divine 
principle  of  spiritual  life  in  the  soul,  that  those 
men  greatly  err,  who  think  themselves  not 
obliged  by  their  religion  to  the  most  diligent 
use  of  them  that  circumstances  will  allow. 
And,  surely,  we  may  trace  here  the  footsteps 
of  divine  wisdom.  If  it  had  been  said,  "  Thou 
shalt  do  this  or  that,  at  such  and  such  times," 
this  would  have  brought  a  yoke  on  the  neck 
of  the  Christian ;  and,  even  when  absolutely 
unavoidable  circumstances  prevented  him  from 
complying  with  the  injunction,  would  have 


REMAINS    OP   MR.  CECIL. 


67 


left  sin  on  his  conscience.  While  the  way  in 
wliich  the  duty  is  enforced  leaves  liim  a 
Christian  liberty  that  is  abundantly  guarded 
against  all  hcentiousness.  He  sees  the  duty 
implied  and  exemplified  in  a  thousand  in- 
stances throughout  the  Scripture.  The  same 
principle  is  applicable  to  certain  pursuits, 
which  occupy  the  men  of  the  world ;  the  gen- 
eral unlawfulness  of  which  is  fully  implied, 
though  they  neither  are  nor  could  have  been 
forbidden  by  name.* 

Nothing  seems  important  to  me,  but  so  far 
as  it  is  connected  with  morals.  The  end — 
the  cui  bono  1 — enters  into  my  view  of  every 
thing.  Even  the  highest  acts  of  the  intellect 
become  criminal  trifling,  when  they  occupy 
much  of  the  time  of  a  moral  creature,  and 
especially  of  a  minister.  If  the  mind  cannot 
feel  and  treat  mathematics,  and  music,  and 
every  thing  else  as  a  trifle,  it  has  been  se- 
duced and  enslaved.  Brainerd,  and  Grimshaw, 
and  Fletcher,  were  men.  Most  of  us  are 
dwarfs. 

In  imitating  examples,  there  are  two  rules 
to  be  regarded :  we  must  not  stretch  ours  be- 
yond our  measure  ;  nor  must  we  despise  that 
in  another,  which  is  unsuitable  to  ourselves. 

A  PIECE  has  been  written  to  prove  that  the 
Gospel  is  preached  to  simiers  only  in  the 
lowest  state  of  misery  and  imbecility.  Some 
men  get  hold  of  an  opinion,  and  push  it  so  far 
that  it  meets  and  contradicts  other  opinions, 
fairly  deducible  from  Scripture.  And  it  is  no 
uncommon  thing  with  them,  to  suppose  that 
nobody  else  holds  the  same  opinion;  when,  if 
they  would  look  into  the  minds  of  other  men, 
they  would  find  themselves  deceived.  We 
preach  the  Gospel  to  sinners  in  the  lowest 
condition  ;  and  the  only  reason  T  do  not 
preach  it  to  devils,  is,  that  I  find  no  Gospel 
provided  for  devils.  As  to  the  Roman  Ca- 
tholic notion  of  a  grace  of  congruity,  in  their 
sense  of  it,  I  utterly  disclaim  it.  Some  of  the 
best  of  them  taught  that  God  prepared  the 
heart  for  himself  in  various  unseen  ways. 
And  who  can  deny  tliis  \  but  this  is  far  differ- 
ent from  the  notion,  that  some  minds  have  a 
natural  congruity  or  suitableness  to  the  Gos- 
pel. The  fallow-ground  of  the  heart  may  be 
broken  up,  ploughed,  and  prepared  by  unseen 
and  most  circuitous  means.  I  have  gone  from 
hearing  a  man  preach  incomparable  nonsense, 
who  knew  spiritual  religion,  to  hearing  a  man 
of  a  carnal  mind  and  habits,  who  knew  nothing 
of  spiritual  religion,  preach  incomparable 
sense,  and  I  thought  the  carnal  preacher 
much  most  likely  to  call  men  to  some  feeling 
of  religion. 

The  imagination  is  the  grand  organ  wlierc- 


*  See  this  idea  ilhistrated  with  regard  to  Articles  of 
Faith  in  Jones's  "  Sliort  view  of  the  argument  between 
the  Church  of  England  and  Dissenters,"  in  the  "Scho- 
lar Armed."     Vol.  ii,  p.  59.    J.  P. 


by  truth  can  make  successful  approaches  to 
the  mind.  Some  preachers  deal  much  with 
the  passions :  they  attack  the  hopes  and  fears 
of  men.  But  this  is  a  very  difl'erent  thing  from 
the  right  use  of  the  imagination,  as  the  medium 
of  impressing  truth.  Jesus  Christ  has  left  per- 
fect patterns  of  this  way  of  managing  men. 
But  it  is  a  distinct  talent,  and  a  talent  commit- 
ted to  very  few.  It  is  an  easy  thing  to  move 
the  passions ;  a  rude,  blunt,  illiterate  attack 
may  do  this.  But,  to  form  one  new  figure  for 
the  conveyance  of  truth  to  the  mind,  is  a  diffi- 
cult thing.  The  world  is  under  no  small  obli- 
gation to  the  man  who  forms  such  a  figure. 
The  French  strain  this  point  so  far,  that  the 
eflTort  is  continually  seen.  To  be  eff'ective, 
there  must  be  about  it  a  naivete,  an  ease,  a 
self-evidence.  The  figures  of  the  French 
writers  vanish  from  the  mind,  like  the  flour- 
ish of  a  musical  band.  The  figures  of  Jesus 
Christ  sink  into  the  mind,  and  leave  there  the 
indelible  impress  of  the  truth  which  they 
convey. 

The  religious  world  has  a  great  momentum. 
Money  and  power,  in  almost  any  quantity,  are 
brought  forth  into  action  when  any  fair  object 
is  set  before  it.  It  is  a  pendulum,  that  swings 
with  prodigious  force.  But  it  wants  a  regula- 
tor. If  there  is  no  regulating  force  on  it  of 
sufficient  power,  its  motions  wall  be  so  violent 
and  eccentric,  that  it  will  tear  the  machine  to 
pieces.  And,  therefore,  when  I  have  any  in- 
fluence in  its  designs  and  schemes,  I  cannot 
help  watching  tliem  with  extreme  jealousy,  to 
throw  in  every  directing  and  regulating  power 
which  can  be  obtained  from  any  quarter. 

Nothing  can  be  proposed  so  wild  or  so  ab- 
surd, as  not  to  find  a  party — and  often  a  very 
large  party— ready  to  espouse  it.  It  is  a  sad 
reflection  on  human  nature,  but  it  is  too  true. 
Every  day's  experience  and  history  confirm 
it.  It  would  have  argued  gross  ignorance  of 
mankind  to  expect  even  Swedenborgianism  to 
be  rejected  at  once  by  the  common  sense  of 
men.  He,  who  laid  the  snare,  knew  that  if  a 
few  characters  of  some  learning  and  respect- 
ability could  be  brought  to  espouse  it,  there 
would  be  soon  a  silly  multitude  ready  to  follow. 

The  religious  world  has  many  features  which 
are  distressing  to  a  holy  man.  He  sees  in  it 
much  proposal  and  ostentation,  covering  much 
surface.  But  Christianity  is  deep  and  substan- 
tial. A  man  is  .soon  enlisted,  but  he  is  not 
soon  made  a  soldier.  He  is  easily  put  into  the 
ranks,  to  make  a  show  there  ;  but  he  is  not  so 
easily  brought  to  do  the  duties  of  the  ranks. 
We  are  too  much  like  an  army  of  Asiatics ; 
they  count  well,  and  cut  a  good  figure ;  but 
when  they  come  into  action,  one  has  no  flint, 
another  has  no  cartridge — the  arms  of  one  are 
rusty,  and  another  has  not  learnt  to  handle 
them.  This  was  not  the  complaint  equally  at 
all  times.  It  belongs  too  peculiarly  to  the  pre- 
sent day.  The  fault  lies  in  the  muster.  We 
are  like  Falstaff".  He  look  the  king's  money 
to  press  good  men  and  true,  but  got  together 


68 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


such  ragamuffins  that  he  was  ashamed  to  mus- 
ter them.  What  is  the  consequence'?  Peo- 
ple groan  under  their  connexions.  Respect- 
able persons  tell  me  such  stories  of  their  ser- 
vants who  profess  religion,  as  to  shame  and 
distress  me.  High  pretensions  to  spirituality  ! 
Warm  zeal  for  certain  sentiments !  Priding 
themselves  in  Mr.  Such-a-one's  ministry !  But 
what  becomes  of  their  duties  ?  Oh  these  are 
"beggarly  elements"  indeed  !  ^Such  persons 
are  alive  to  religious  talk;  but,  if  you  speak 
to  them  on  religious  te.mpers,  the  subject  grows 
irksome. 

ADMIRA.T10N  and  feeling  are  very  distinct 
from  each  other.  Some  music  and  oratory 
enchant  and  astonish,  but  they  speak  not  to 
the  heart.  I  have  been  overwhelmed  by  Han- 
dePs  music :  the  Dettingen  Te  Deum  is,  per- 
haps, the  greatest  composition  in  the  world  : 
yet  I  never,  in  my  life,  heard  Handel,  but  I 
could  think  of  something  else  at  the  same 
time.  There  is  a  kind  of  music  that  will  not 
allow  this.  Dr.  Worgan  has  so  touched  the 
organ  at  St.  John's,  that  I  have  been  turning 
backward  and  forward  over  tlie  Prayer  Book 
for  the  first  lesson  in  Isaiah,  and  wondered  that 
I  could  not  find  Isaiah  there  !  The  musician 
and  the  orator  fall  short  of  the  full  power  of 
their  science,  if  the  hearer  is  left  in  posses- 
sion of  himself. 

The  Church  of  England  is  not  fitted,  in  its 
present  state,  for  a  general  church.  Its  secu- 
larity  must  be  purged  away.  We  shall  hasten 
that  day  when  Christians  shall  be  of  one  heart 
and  one  mind,  if  we  inculcate  the  spirit  of 
charity  in  our  respective  circles.  I  have  aim- 
ed much  at  this  point,  and  shall  push  it  farther. 
The  rest  must  be  left  to  Providence.  He  only 
can,  by  unknown  means,  heal  the  schisms  of 
the  church,  and  unite  it  together  as  one  exter- 
nal body :  and  that  this  will  be  done  as  some 
think,  by  persecution,  appears  highly  probable. 
I  see  no  other  means  adequate  to  the  end. 

HvpocRisv  is  folly.  It  is  much  easier,  safer, 
and  pleasanter,  to  be  the  thing  which  a  man 
aims  to  appear,  than  to  keep  up  the  appear- 
ance of  being  what  he  is  not.  When  a  Chris- 
tian is  truly  such,  he  acts  from  a  nature— a 
new  nature— and  all  the  actings  of  that  nature 
have  ilie  ease  and  pleasantness  of  nature  in 
them. 

Humiliation  is  the  spirit  of  our  dispensation 
—not  a  creeping,  servile,  canting  humility,  but 
an  entire  self-renunciation.  The  Mystics  often 
talk  admirably  on  the  subject.  Pride  is  the 
most  universal  and  inveterate  of  all  vices. 
Every  man  is  a  proud  man,  though  all  are  not 
equally  proud.  No  sin  harasses  the  Christian 
so  much,  nor  accompanies  him  so  unwearied- 
ly.  Its  forms  of  exhibiting  itself  are  infinitely 
varied,  and  none  are  more  common  than  the 
affectation  of  humility.  The  assumption  of 
the  garb  of  huojility,  m  all  its  shades,  is  gen- 
erally but  an  expression  of  a  proud  mind. 
Pride  IS  the  master-siii'of  the  spirit;  and  the 


grace  of  God,  in  the  whole  tenor  of  our  dis- 
pensation, is  directed  against  it. 

I  EXTEND  the  circle  of  real  religion  very 
widely.  Many  men  fear  God,  and  love  God, 
and  have  a  sincere  desire  to  serve  him,  whose 
views  of  religious  truth  are  very  imperfect, 
and  in  some  points  perhaps  utterly  false.  But 
I  doubt  not  that  many  such  persons  have  a 
state  of  heart  acceptable  before  God. 

Man  is  a  creature  of  extremes.  The  middle 
path  is  generally  the  wise  path ;  but  there  are 
few  wise  enough  to  find  it.  Because  Papists 
have  made  too  much  of  some  things,  Protest- 
ants have  made  too  little  of  them.  The  Pa- 
pists treat  man  as  all  sense ;  and,  therefore, 
some  Protestants  would  treat  him  as  all  spirit.' 
Because  one  party  has  exalted  the  Virgin  Mary 
to  a  divinity,  the  other  can  scarcely  think  of 
that  7nost  highly  favored  ainong  luomen  with 
common  respect.  The  Papist  Vts  the  Apo- 
crypha into  his  canon— the  Protestant  will 
scarcely  regard  it  as  an  ancient  record.  The 
Popish  heresy  of  human  merit  in  justification, 
drove  Luther  on  the  other  side  into  most  un- 
warrantable and  unscriptural  statements  of 
that  doctripe.  The  Papists  consider  grace  as 
inseparable  from  the  participation  of  the  sa- 
craments— the  Protestants  too  often  lose  sight 
of  them  as  instituted  means  of  conveyino- 
grace.  " 

The  language  of  irreligion  in  the  heart,  is, 
"  give— give— now— now— whatever  the  flesh 
and  the  eye  lust  after,  and  whatever  gratifies 
the  pride  of  life.  Give  it  now— for,  as  to  any 
reversion,  I  will  not  sacrifice  a  single  lust  for 
It ;  or,  if  I  must  have  a  religion,  it  shall  be  any 
thing  rather  than  that  demeaning  system  whi'ch 
makes  every  thing  a  mere  boon." 

Instead  of  attempting  any  logical  and  meta- 
physical explanation  of  justification  by  the 
imputed  righteousness  of  Christ,  all  which  at- 
tempts have  human  infirmity  stamped  upon 
them,  I  would  look  at  the  subject  in  the  great 
and  impressive  light  in  which  Scripture  places 
it  beiore  me.  It  teaches  me  to  regard  the  in- 
tervention of  Christ  for  me  as  the  sole  ground 
of  all  expectation  toward  God.  In  considera- 
tion of  his  sufferings,  my  guilt  is  remitted,  and 
1  am  restored  to  that  which  I  had  lost  by  sin 
Let  us  add  to  this,  that  the  sufferings  of  Christ 
were  in  our  stead,  and  we  shall  see  the  point 
of  view  in  which  Scripture  sets  him  forth  as 
the  deserver  and  procurer  to  us  of  all  pardon 
and  grace.  The  thing  is  declared— not  ex- 
plained. Let  us  not,  therefore,  darken  a  sub- 
ject which  is  held  forth  in  a  prominent  licrht, 
by  our  idle  endeavors  to  make  it  better  under- 
stood. 

Regeneration  and  conversion  may  be  distin- 
guished from  each  other,  though  they  cannot 
be  separated.  They  may  be  distinguished  ;  as 
a  man's  being  disposed  to  go  in  a  certain  road, 
and  his  actually  going  in  that  road,  may  be  dis- 
tinguished :  for  regeneration  is  God's  dispos- 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


ing  the  heart  to  himself,  but.  conversion  is  the 
actual  turning  of  the  heart  to  God. 

There  is  an  immeasurable  distance  between 
the  genuine  and  the  spurious  Christian.  The 
genuine  Christian  may  be  weak,  wild,  eccen- 
tric, fanatical,  faulty ;  but  he  is  right-hearted  : 
you  find  the  root  of  the  matter  in  him.  The  spu- 
rious Christian  is  the  most  dangerous  of  men, 
and  one  of  the  most  difficult  to  deal  with.  You 
see  what  he  is,  but  you  find  it  almost  impossi- 
ble to  keep  clear  of  him.  He  will  seek  your 
acquaintance,  in  order  to  authenticate  his  own 
character — to  indorse  his  own  reputation.  But 
avoid  him.  His  errors  and  vices  will  be  as- 
signed to  the  church  by  an  indiscriminating 
world.  There  is  less  danger  in  associating 
with  worldly  people  by  profession,  and  more 
tenderness  to  be  exercised  toward  them.  St. 
Paul  teaches  us  the  distinction ;  1  Cor.  v,  9-11. 

I  FEEL  disposed  to  treat  carnal  men  and  car- 
nal ministers  with  tenderness,  not  to  show 
them  that  I  am  a  spiritually  proud  man.  Let 
them  see  that  you  have  some  secret  in  posses- 
sion which  keeps  you  quiet,  humble,  patient, 
holy,  meek,  and  affectionate,  in  a  turbulent  and 
passionate  world. 

The  character  of  Balaam  is  not  uncommon 
in  the  church.  I  have  been  amazed  to  see  re- 
ligious professors,  whose  ungodly  character 
has  been  known  and  read  of  all  men,  who  have 
nevertheless  entertained  a  good  opinion  of 
themselves.  I  have  accounted  for  it  by  sup- 
posing that  they  build  entirely  on  the  distinc- 
tion of  their  views  of  truth  from  those  of  other 
men.  They  "  know  the  points  :  they  see  the 
distinctions :  and,  moreover,  they  approve  what 
they  know,  and  desire  to  die  the  death  of  the 
righteous  and  be  where  they  are — and,  cer- 
tainly, they  must  be  the  men  of  God's  council, 
and  the  men  who  stand  on  his  side  against  the 
world!" 

I  HAVE  long  adopted  an  expedient,  which  I 
have  found  of  singular  service.  I  have  a  shelf 
in  my  study  for  tried  authors,  and  one  in  my 
mind  for  tried  principles  and  characters. 

When  an  author  has  stood  a  thorough  ex- 
amination, and  will  bear  to  be  taken  as  a  guide, 
I  put  him  on  the  shelf! 

When  I  have  more  fully  made  up  my  mind 
on  a  PRINCIPLE,  I  put  it  on  the  shelf!  A  hun- 
dred subtle  objections  may  be  brought  against 
this  principle  :  I  may  meet  with  some  of  them, 
perhaps;  but  my  principle  is  on  the  shelf! 
Generally,  I  may  be  able  to  recall  the  reasons 
which  weighed  with  me  to  put  it  there  :  but  if 
not,  I  am  not  to  be  sent  out  to  sea  again.  Time 
was,  when  I  saw  through  and  detected  all  the 
subtleties  that  could  be  brought  against  it.  I 
have  past  evidence  of  having  been  fully  con- 
vinced, and  there  on  the  shelf  it  shall  lie  ! 

When  I  have  turned  a  character  over  and 
over  on  all  sides,  and  seen  it  through  and 
through  in  all  situations,  I  put  it  on  the  shelf. 
There  may  be  conduct  in  the  person  which 
may  stumble  others :  there  may  be  great  in- 
110  26 


consistencies :  there  may  be  strange  and  un- 
accountable turns — but  I  have  put  that  charac- 
ter on  the  shelf:  difficulties  will  all  be  cleared 
up :  every  thing  will  come  round  again.  I 
should  be  much  chagrined,  indeed,  to  be  obhged 
to  take  a  character  down  which  I  had  once 
put  up,  but  that  has  never  been  the  case  with 
me  yet ;  and  the  best  guard  against  it  is,  not 
to  be  too  hasty  in  putting  them  there. 

Influence,  whether  derived  from  money, 
talents,  or  connexions,  is  power :  there  is  no 
person  so  insignificant  but  he  has  much  of  this 
power :  the  little  Israelite  maid,  in  Naaman's 
family,  is  an  instance.  Some,  indeed,  suppose 
that  they  have  more  power  than  they  really 
have ;  but  we  generally  think  we  have  less 
than  we  in  reality  have.  Whoever  neglects 
or  misapplies  this  power,  is  an  unprofitable 
servant ;  unbelief,  timidity,  and  delicacy,  often 
cramp  its  exertion ;  but  it  is  our  duty  to  call 
ourselves  out  to  the  exertion  of  this  power,  as 
Mordecai  called  out  Esther,  (chap,  iv) :  it  is 
our  duty  to  watch  against  every  thing  that 
might  hinder  or  pervert  our  influence  :  for  mere 
regard  to  reputation  will  often  carry  many  into 
error :  who  would  not  follow  Aaron  in  wor- 
shipping the  golden  calf  \  Even  men  of  fee- 
ble public  talents  may  acquire  much  influence 
by  kindness  and  consistency  of  character : 
ministers  are  defective  in  resting  their  per- 
sonal influence  too  much  on  their  public  min- 
istry :  time  will  give  weight  to  a  man's  char- 
acter ;  and  it  is  one  advantage  to  a  man  to  be 
cast  early  into  his  situation,  that  he  may  earn 
a  character. 

The  instances  of  artifice  which  occur  in 
Scripture,  are  not  to  be  imitated,  but  avoided  : 
if  Abraham,  or  Isaac,  or  Jacob  equivocate,  in 
order  to  obtain  their  ends,  this  is  no  warrant 
to  me  to  do  so.  David's  falsehood  concerning 
Goliath's  sword  argued  distrust  of  God.  If 
any  part  of  the  truth  which  I  am  bound  to 
communicate  be  concealed,  this  is  sinful  arti- 
fice :  the  Jesuits  in  China,  in  order  to  remove 
the  offence  of  the  cross,  declared  that  it  was 
a  falsehood  invented  by  the  Jews  that  Christ 
was  crucified ;  but  they  were  expelled  from  the 
empire  :  and  this  was  designed,  perhaps,  to  be 
held  up  as  a  warning  to  all  missionaries,  that 
no  good  end  is  to  be  carried  by  artifice. 

But  ADDRESS  is  of  a  different  nature.  There 
is  no  falsehood,  deception,  or  equivocation  in 
address.  St.  Paul,  for  instance,  employed  law- 
ful address,  and  not  artifice,  when  he  set  the 
Sadducees  and  Pharisees  at  variance  :  he  em- 
ployed a  lawful  argument  to  interest  the  Pha- 
risees in  his  favor :  this  was  great  address,  but 
it  had  nothing  of  criminal  artifice.  In  Joshua's 
ambushes  for  the  men  of  Ai,  there  was  no- 
thing sinful :  it  was  a  lawful  stratagem  of  war : 
it  would  have  been  unlawful  to  tell  the  men 
of  Ai  there  was  no  ambush :  but  they  knew 
that  they  came  out  of  their  city  liable  to  such 
ambushes.  Christ's  conduct  at  Emmaus,  and 
that  of  the  angels  of  Sodom,  were  meant  as 
trials  of  the  regard  of  those  with  whom  they 
were  conversing. 


70 


REMAINS    OF  MR.  CECIL. 


Precipitation  is  acting  without  sufficient 
grounds  of  action.  Youth  is  the  pecuhar  sea- 
son of  precipitation  :  the  young  man's  motto 
is  "  onward  !"  There  is  no  such  effectual  cure 
of  this  evil  as  experience  :  when  a  man  is  made 
to  feel  the  effects  of  his  precipitation,  both  in 
body  and  mind :  and  God  alone  can  thus  bring 
a  man  acquainted  with  himself.  There  is  a 
self-blindness  in  precipitation :  a  precipitate 
man  is,  at  the  time,  a  blind  man  :  That  be  far 
from  thee !  said  St.  Peter  :  this  shall  not  happen 
to  thee.  As  the  Lord  liveth,  said  David,  the  man 
that  hath  done  this  thing  shall  surely  die ! 

There  is  great  criminality  in  precipitation. 
A  man  under  its  influence  is  continually  tempt- 
ed to  take  God's  work  out  of  his  hands.  It  is 
not  a  state  of  dependance.  It  betrays  want 
of  patience  with  respect  to  God  :  and  want  of 
faith  :  /  shall  one  day  perish  hy  the  hand  of  Saul. 
It  discovers  a  want  of  charity  :  in  a  rash  mo- 
ment, we  may  do  an  injury  to  our  neighbor 
which  we  can  never  repair. 

There  are  few  who  do  not  feel  that  they  are 
suffering  through  life  the  effects  of  their  own 
precipitation.  He,  then,  that  trusieth  his  oion 
heart,  is  a  fool.  In  precipitate  moments,  we 
should  learn  to  say,  "  I  am  not  now  the  man 
to  give  an  opinion,  or  to  take  a  single  step !" 

Method,  as  Mrs.  More  says,  is  the  very  hinge 
of  business :  and  there  is  no  method  without 
punctuality.  Punctuality  is  important,  be- 
cause it  subserves  the  peace  and  good  temper 
of  a  family :  the  want  of  it  not  only  infringes 
on  necessary  duty,  but  sometimes  excludes 
this  duty.  Punctuality  is  important,  as  it  gains 
time  :  it  is  like  packing  things  in  a  box :  a  good 
packer  will  get  in  half  as  much  more  as  a  bad 
one.  The  calmness  of  mind  which  it  produces 
is  another  advantage  of  punctuality :  a  disor- 
derly man  is  always  in  a  hurry  :  he  has  no  time 
to  speak  with  you,  because  he  is  going  else- 
where ;  and  when  he  gets  there,  he  is  too  late 
for  his  business,  or  he  must  hurry  away  to  an- 
other before  he  can  finish  it.  It  was  a  wise 
maxim  of  the  Duke  of  Newcastle — "  I  do  one 
thing  at  a  time."  Punctuality  gives  weight  to 
character.  Such  a  man  has  made  an  appoint- 
ment :  then  I  know  he  will  keep  it.  And  this 
generates  punctuality  in  you  :  for,  like  other 
virtues,  it  propagates  itself :  servants  and  chil- 
dren must  be  punctual,  where  their  leader  is 
so.  Appointments,  indeed,  become  debts  :  I 
owe  you  punctuality,  if  I  have  made  an  ap- 
pointment with  you;  and  have  no  right  to 
throw  away  your  time,  if  I  do  my  own. 

It  is  a  difficult  question  in  casuistry — How 

FAR  A  MAN  IS  BOUND   TO    BETRAY   CONFIDENCE  FOR 

GENERAL  GOOD.  Let  it  bc  considcrcd  what  con- 
sequences would  follow  from  a  man's  disclos- 
ing all  the  evil  he  knows.  The  world  would 
become  a  nest  of  scorpions.  He  must  often 
mistake,  and  of  course  calumniate.  Such  is 
his  incapacity  to  determine  what  is  really  evil 
in  his  neighbor,  and  such  are  the  mischiefs  fre- 
quently arising  from  the  disclosure  of  even 
what  should  be  in  truth  evil,  that  he  seems 
rather  called  on  to  be  silent,  till  circumstances 


render  it  a  case  of  duty  to  remain  silent  no 
longer.  But  if  this  be  his  general  rule,  it  will 
be  his  duty  to  observe  silence  much  oftener  in 
cases  of  CONFIDENCE.  Professional  men — a  min- 
ister— a  lawyer — a  medical  man — have  an  offi- 
cial secrecy  imposed  on  them.  If  this  were  not 
the  case,  a  distressed  conscience  could  never 
unburden  itself  to  its  confessor.  Incalculable 
injuries  to  health  and  property  must  be  sus- 
tained for  want  of  proper  advisers.  This  ap- 
plies in  a  very  high  sense  to  a  minister,  con- 
sidered as  a  confessor— a  director  of  the  con- 
science. An  alarmed  conscience  will  unfold 
its  most  interior  recesses  before  him.  It  is 
said  Dr.  Owen  advised  a  man,  who,  under  re- 
ligious convictions,  confessed  to  him  a  murder 
which  he  had  perpetrated  some  years  before, 
to  surrender  himself  up  to  justice.  The  man 
did  so,  and  was  executed.  I  think  Dr.  Owen 
erred  in  his  advice.  I  thought  myself  right, 
in  urging  on  persons,  who  have  opened  their 
hearts  to  me,  deep  humiUation  before  God  for 
crimes  committed  in  an  unconverted  state : 
but,  as  it  had  pleased  Him  to  give  a  thorough 
hatred  of  those  crimes  to  the  mind,  and  a  con- 
sequent self-loathing  and  humiliation,  and  yet 
to  allow  in  his  providence  that  they  should 
have  remained  undiscovered,  I  judged  that  the 
matter  might  be  safely  left  with  him.  Yet 
there  may  be  cases  in  which  general  conse- 
quences require  that  confidence  should  be  be- 
trayed. Such  cases  usually  relate  to  evil  in 
PROGRESS.  To  prevent  or  counteract  such  evil, 
it  may  be  necessary  to  disclose  what  has  been 
intrusted  in  confidence.  Yet  the  party  should 
be  honestly  warned,  if  its  purposes  are  not 
changed,  what  duty  your  conscience  will 
require. 

I  HAVE  felt  twice  in  my  life  very  extraordi- 
nary impressions  after  sermons,  and  that  from 
men  least  calculated  to  affect  me.  A  man  of 
great  powers,  but  so  dissipated  on  every  thing 
that  he  knew  nothing — a  frivolous,  futile  bab- 
bler, whom  I  was  ready  almost  to  despise — 
surprised  and  chained  me  so,  in  my  own 
church  at  Lewes,  that  I  was  thunderstruck : 
I  think  it  was  concerning  the  dove  not  finding 
rest  for  the  sole  of  her  foot :  he  felt  the  sub- 
ject strongly  himself;  and  in  spite  of  all  my 
prejudices  against  him  and  my  real  knowledge 
of  his  character,  he  made  me  feel  it  as  I  have 
scarcely  ever  done  before  or  since.  In  the 
other  instance,  I  had  to  do  with  a  very  differ- 
ent character:  he  Avas  a  simple,  but  weak 
man :  it  pleased  God,  however,  to  shoot  an 
arrow  by  his  hand  into  my  heart :  I  had  been 
some  time  in  a  dry,  fruitless  frame,  and  was 
persuading  myself  that  all  was  going  on  well : 
he  said  one  day,  at  Lewes,  with  an  indescriba- 
ble simplicity,  that  "  men  might  cheer  them- 
selves in  the  morning,  and  they  might  pass  on 
tolerably  well  perhaps  without  God  at  noon ; 
but  the  cool  of  the  day  was  coming,  when  God 
would  come  down  to  talk  with  them."  It  was 
a  message  from  God  to  me  :  I  felt  as  though 
God  had  descended  into  the  church,  and  was 
about  to  call  me  to  my  account!  In  the 
former  instance,  I  was  more  surprised  and  as- 


REMAINS    OF   MR.    CECIL. 


71 


tonished  than  affected  religiously ;  but,  in  this, 
I  was  unspeakably  moved. 

Constitutional  bias  is  a  suspicious  inter- 
preter    of    PROVIDENTIAL     LEADINGS.        A     Ilian'S 

besetting  sin  lies  in  that  to  which  his  nature  is 
most  inclined ;  and,  therefore,  to  walk  wisely 
and  hohly,  he  should  be  very  jealous  of  such 
supposed  leadings  in  Providence  as  draw  with 
his  constitutional  propensity.  He  is  never 
safe,  unless  he  is  in  the  act  of  collaring  his 
nature  as  a  rebel,  and  forcing  it  into  submis- 
sion. A  sanguine  man  sees  a  sign  and  token 
in  every  thing :  in  every  ordinary  occurrence, 
his  imagination  hears  a  call :  his  pious  fancy 
is  the  source  and  food  of  an  eager,  disquieted, 
and  restless  habit  of  mind.  An  enterprising 
man  has  great  facility  in  finding  God  in  what- 
ever seems  to  open  to  honor,  or  influence,  or 
power.  But  he  has  lost  the  right  estimate  of 
things :  if  God  seem  to  draw  with  an  enter- 
prising mind,  the  man  should  stand  and  trem- 
ble. Providence  may  really  lead  some  retired 
and  humble  men  into  situations  which  the  am- 
bitious man  would  covet :  but,  even  in  that 
case,  it  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  an  evidence 
of  favor,  so  much  as  an  increase  of  trial  and 
responsibihty  :  but  he  can  ncA'er  open  before 
an  enterprising  and  ambitious  character,  unless 
in  judgment,  or  in  such  imminence  of  trial  as 
should  call  the  man  to  self-suspicion  and 
humility.  A  pleasuroMe  man  easily  discerns 
God's  hand  in  everything,  which  seems  to  put 
his  f?,vorite  indulgences  within  his  power: 
such  i  thing  was  a  great  providence  !  and  he  is 
V£s:l7  grateful!  while  he  sees  not  that  he  is 
5ed  away  to  broken  cisterns.  An  idle  man  has 
a  constant  tendency  to  torpidity.  He  has 
adopted  the  Indian  maxim — that  it  is  better  to 
walk  than  to  run,  and  better  to  stand  than  to 
walk,  and  better  to  sit  than  to  stand,  and  better 
to  lie  than  to  sit.  He  hugs  himself  into  the 
notion,  that  God  calls  him  to  be  quiet : — that 
HE  is  not  made  for  bustling  and  noise  ! — that 
such  and  such  a  thing  plainly  show  him  he 
ought  to  retire  and  sit  still !  A  busij  man  is 
never  at  rest :  he  sees  himself  called  so  often 
into  action,  that  he  digs  too  much  to  suffer  any 
thing  to  grow,  and  waters  so  profusely  that  he 
drowns.  The  danger  in  all  these  cases  is,  lest 
a  man  should  bless  himself  in  his  snares  ! 

Adam  well  observes : — "  A  poor  country  par- 
son, fighting  against  the  devil  in  his  parish, 


has  nobler  ideas  than  Alexander  had."  Men 
of  the  world  know  nothing  of  true  glory  :  they 
know  nothing  of  the  grandeur  of  that  sentiment 
—  Thou,  O  God,  art  the  thing  that  I  long  for  ! 
You  may,  perhaps,  find  this  sentiment  in  the 
corner  of  some  monastery,  where  a  poor  igno- 
rant creature  is  mumbling  over  his  prayers  : 
or,  it  may  even  be  found  to  exist  with  the  non- 
sense and  fanaticism  of  a  Swedenborgian  ;  but, 
wherever  it  is,  it  is  true  dignity. 

Look  at  the  bravery  of  the  world !  Go  into 
the  Park.  Who  is  the  object  of  admiration 
there  ?  The  captain  swelling  and  strutting  at 
the  head  of  his  corps !  And  what  is  there  at 
the  court ■? — "Make  way!  Make  way  !"  And 
who  is  this  ■?  A  bit  of  clay,  with  a  riband  tied 
round  it !  Now  it  makes  nothing  against  the 
comparative  emptiness  and  Uttleness  of  these 
things,  that  I  or  any  man  should  be  ensnared 
by  them,  and  play  the  fool  with  the  rest  of  the 
species.  Truth  is  truth,  and  dignity  is  dignity, 
in  spite  of  the  errors  and  folly  of  any  man 
living. 

But  this  is  the  outside.  What  are  the 
greatest  minds,  and  the  noblest  projects  of  the 
world,  compared  with  a  Christian  !  Take  Mr. 
Pitt  for  an  instance  :  and  contrast  him  with  the 
most  i'lsigiiificant  old  woman  in  the  church  of 
Christ !  If  the  Bible  be  not  true,  you  have  no 
standard:  all  your  reasonings,  and  science, 
and  philosophy,  and  metaphysics,  are  gross 
absurdity  and  folly.  But  if  the  Bible  be  true  ; 
Mr.  Pitt,  great  and  noble  as  he  is,  yet,  con- 
sidered as  a  mere  politician,  even  Mr.  Pitt  has 
a  little,  contracted,  mean  mind  ! — a  driveller ! 
—an  earth-worm  !  Compared  with  his  pro- 
jects and  schemes,  the  old  woman,  who  rises 
at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  lights  her  far- 
thing candle,  stands  all  day  over  her  wash-tub, 
at  night  puts  on  her  red  cloak,  steals  out  to 
some  place  of  worship,  hears  the  truths  of  the 
Gospel  mangled  perhaps  with  ignorant,  yet 
honest  zeal,  but  draws  in  good  into  an  honest 
and  prepared  heart — why,  this  woman  is  a 
heroine— a  noble  mind — compared  with  the 
greatest  of  men,  considered  as  a  mere  man  of 
this  world ! 

Bishop  Wilkins  has  said  admirably.  That 
nothing  in  man  is  great,  but  so  far  as  it  is  con 
nected  with  God.  The  only  wise  thing  re- 
corded of  Xerxes,  is  his  reflection  on  the  sight 
of  his  army — That  not  one  of  that  immense 
multitude  would  survive  a  hundred  years :  it 
seems  to  have  been  a  momentary  gleam  of 
true  hght  and  feeling. 


APPENDIX 


REMARKS   BY   MR.   CECIL,   COMMUNICATED    TO   THE    EDITOR    BY   SOME   FRIENDS. 


A  HIDING-PLACE  implies  secrecy.  He  who  can 
say  unto  God,  Thou  art  my  hiding  place,  may  go 
abroad  about  his  affairs,  and  may  pass  through  a 
thousand  dangers,  and  yet  at  the  same  time,  have 
such  a  hiding  place,  in  tlie  favor  and  protection  of 
God,  that,  when  he  seems  to  be  exposed  on  every 
side,  still  he  is  secured  and  hidden  from  every  evil. 


A  GREAT  man,  however  higli  his  office  and  ta- 
lents, is  dependent  on  httle  things.  Jonah  ivas  ex- 
ceeding glad  of  his  gourd.  However  splendid  and 
towering,  man  is  crushed  beneath  the  moth,  if  God 
does  not  uphold  him :  so  that  while  we  are  ad- 
miring  the  great  man  as  he  is  called,  and  however 
he  may  be  disposed  to  admire  himself  and  to  speak 
great  swelling  loords  of  vanity,  facts  will  show 
that  he  is  a  poor,  dependent  creature,  who  cannot 
live  a  moment  without  God.  If  the  Holy  Spirit 
opens  his  eyes,  he  will  perceive  that  he  cannot 
stand  alone  ;  but  can  only  support  himself  and 
climb,  like  the  ivy,  by  clasping  one  stronger  than 
himself. 


Dreams  are  common  to  sleeping.  No  man  be- 
gins to  slumber  in  religion,  but  he  falls  into  some 
golden  dream.  It  is  a  device  of  Satan  to  seduce 
men  into  a  drowsy  state,  and  then  to  beguile  them 
with  some  dream.  When  the  duties  of  religion 
become  irksome,  then  he  presents  some  novelty 
which  allures  and  deceives  us :  whereas,  had  we 
been  in  life  and  vigor,  we  should  have  detected 
the  deceit. 


There  are  no  greater  objects  of  pity  in  the 
world,  than  men  who  are  admired  by  all  around 
for  their  nice  discernment  and  fine  taste  in  every 
thing  of  a  worldly  nature,  but  have  no  taste  for 
the  riches  that  endure  for  ever — no  love  for  God 
or  his  word — no  love  for  Christ  or  their  souls.  In 
such  a  state,  however  admired  or  respected,  they 
cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God. 

A  Spiritual  man  is  a  character  that  rises  far 
above  all  worldly  wisdom  and  science.  He  is  de- 
scribed by  our  Lord  as  born  of  the  Spirit.  Spirit- 
ual senses  are  given  to  him.  He  has  a  spiritual 
taste  that  rejects  whatever  is  injurious,  and  dad- 
y  receives  whatever  is  salutary  to  the  spiritual 
life:  he  desires  the  sincere  milk  of  the  loord,  that 
he  may  grow  thereby.  He  has  a  spiritual  sight  : 
he  looks  not  at  the  things  ivhich  are  seen,  but  at  the 
things  which  are  not  seen.  He  smells  a  sweet 
savor  in  the  things  of  God  His  name  is  as  oint- 
72 


ment  poured  forth.  He  has  a  quick  feeling.  And 
he  has  a  spiritual  ear  :  My  sheep  hear  my  voice. 
He  hves  in  a  world  of  his  oun:  he  is  tried  by 
spiritual  conflicts,  and  supported  by  spiritual  com- 
forts. If  the  thuigs  of  God  do  not  afford  him  con- 
solation, he  droops,  and  nothing  in  this  world  can 
lift  up  his  head  :  he  will  say  to  every  other  object. 
Miserable  comforters  are  ye  all.  He  is  pursuing  a 
spiritual  end,  and  while  others  boast  and  are  puffed 
up  with  their  great  attainments,  he  is  humbled  ir 
the  dust,  and  gives  all  glory  to  God.  » 


There  are  critical  circumstances,  under  which 
a  man  who  is  in  general  on  his  guard,  is  called  to 
redouble  his  Christian  vigilance.  If  he  is  about 
to  encounter  immment  danger,  for  instance,  he 
wUl  take  care  to  secure  himself  by  every  possible 
means.  A  house  may  be  well  guarded  and  se- 
cured, but,  if  there  is  any  fear  and  expectation  of 
thieves,  every  place  will  be  doubly  barred  and 
watched.  Good  care  may  be  taken,  in  the  gene- 
ral habits  of  a  family,  to  guard  against  fire ;  but 
if  it  be  known  that  a  spai-k  has  fallen  among  any 
combustibles,  every  possible  search  is  made  to  dis- 
cover it  and  to  prevent  its  ravages.  Thus  should 
every  servant  of  Christ  redouble  his  guard  in  cri- 
tical circumstances.  He  should  remember,  that, 
while  awful  providences  seem  to  be  threatening 
us,  and  while  we  are  surrounded  with  dangers  on 
every  side,  and  while  the  enemy  of  our  souls  is 
going  about  as  a  roaring  lion  seeking  whom  he 
may  devour,  it  ill  becomes  us  to  trifle.  Let  us  stir 
up  ourselves,  and  attend  to  our  Master's  admoni- 
tion. Let  your  loins  be  girded  about,  and  your  lights 
burning,  and  ye  yourselves  like  unto  men  that  wait 
for  their  Lord. 


If  St.  Paul  had  not  been  an  entire  character, 
he  would  not  have  spoken  so  ingeniously  of  him- 
self as  he  does  in  the  7th  to  the  Romans.  He 
would  have  acted  as  many  others  have  done  :  he 
would  have  put  the  best  aspect  on  things.  He 
would  not  have  opened  the  chambers  of  imagery  ; 
and  have  showed,  while  all  the  church  was  ad- 
miring him,  what  was  passing  within.  Here  were 
real  simplicity  and  humility — nothing  of  that 
Pharisee  which  he  once  was.  The  Pharisee  is 
become  a  Publican :  the  reality  is  coming  for- 
ward ;  and  he  seems  to  say,  "  Is  any  man  groan- 
ing under  a  body  of  sin  and  death? — on  searching 
his  heart,  does  he  find  that  therein  dwelleth  nc 
good  thing  1 — This  is  my  case  also  ;  and  if  I  have 
any  thing  wherein  to  glory,  it  is  in  Christ  and  not 
in  myself. 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


73 


Charity  should  teach  us  to  exercise  hope  and 
love  toward  all  men — hope  toward  those  who  are 
without,  and  love  toward  those  who  are  within, 
the  walls  of  the  city  of  God.  Of  those  witliout, 
we  are  apt  to  despair  too  soon,  and  to  say.  There 
is  no  hope ;  when  we  should  labor  to  allure  them 
into  the  church  of  God,  and  to  impress  them  with 
a  sense  of  its  glory  and  its  privileges.  Toward 
those  within  the  walls,  we  sometimes  fail  in 
the  exercise  of  love :  we  are  too  much  influenced 
in  our  feeUngs  toward  them  by  a  difference  of 
education,  taste,  or  disposition  ;  while  the  great 
question  ought  to  be,  "  Are  they  really  fellow- 
citizens  with  the  saints  and  of  the  household  of 
God?" — and,  if  so,  whatever  their  defects  may 
be,  we  ought  to  honor  and  love  them  as  the  tem- 
ples of  the  Holy  Ghost. 


When  Christians  are  delivered  from  trouble, 
they  are  apt  soon  to  forget  it :  and  to  lose  sight 
of  the  holy  resolutions  formed  while  under  afflic- 
tion :  the  strong  impressions  soon  decay.  Where- 
as if  we  were  enabled  to  glory  in  tribulations — if 
our  conscience  were  made  tender — if  more  reality 
were  put  into  our  prayers — we  should  take  heed 
how  we  give  way  to  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief: 
we  should  remember,  too,  how  our  troubles  were 
brought  on  us,  and  the  benefits  which  we  received 
while  they  continued :  we  should  watch  tliat  we 
might  not  estimate  them  falsely  :  and  at  all  times, 
we  should  bear  it  in  our  mind,  that  it  is  not  suffer- 
ing which  hurts  us,  but  sin. 


Some  men  will  foUow  Christ  on  certain  condi- 
tions— if  he  will  not  lead  them  through  rough 
roads — if  he  will  not  enjoin  tliem  any  painful  tasks 
— if  the  sun  and  wind  do  not  annoy  them — if  he 
will  remit  a  part  of  his  plan  and  order.  But  the 
true  Christian,  who  has  the  spirit  of  Jesus,  will 
say,  as  Ruth  said  to  Naomi,  "  Whither  thou  goest, 
I  willgo .'"  whatever  difficulties  and  dangers  may 
be  in  the  way. 


It  is  our  happiness,  as  Christians,  that,  how- 
ever we  may  change  our  place,  we  shall  never 
change  our  object.  Whatever  we  lose,  we  shah 
not  lose  that  which  we  esteem  better  than  life. 
God  has  made  to  us  this  gracious  promise — I  icill 
dwell  in  them,  and  icalk  in  them.  And  though  wc 
may  endure  much  affliction,  and  pass  through 
many  deep  waters,  yet  this  is  our  honor  and  com- 
fort, THE  LoHD  IS  WITH  US  !  and  then — what  is 
difficulty? — what  is  tribulation  ? — what  is  death] 
— Death  to  a  Christian  is  but  an  entrance  into 
the  city  of  God !  it  is  but  joining  a  more  blessed 
company,  and  singing  in  a  more  exalted  strain, 
than  he  can  do  in  this  world. 


The  way  of  every  man  is  declarative  of  the 
END  of  that  man. 


How  difficult  it  is  to  show  those  who  are  in  the 
house  of  mourning,  that  God  is  teaching  them, 
ll'.at,  if  thoy  Ind  not  leaned  so  much  on  their 


creature-supports,  they  had  not  been  so  broken! 
Still  they  are  crying,  O  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  '. 
Why  is  it  that  we  are  shocked  to  see  the  world 
falling  to  pieces  around  us,  when  we  shafl  leave 
it  ourselves  to-morrow — perhaps  to-day  1  We  for- 
get that  it  is  the  design  of  God  to  dash  every 
thing  to  pieces.  It  is  by  these  trials  that  we  be- 
gin to  learn  we  have  been  walking  by  sense  rather 
than  by  faith — and  looking  at  our  children  and 
our  possessions  as  though  we  were  never  to  lose 
them. 


It  is  by  FAITH  that  we  are  relieved  under  the 
difficulties  of  sense.  Sense  revolts,  when  it 
lews  our  great  High-Priest  on  the  cross — Faith 
glories  in  this  object !  Sense  talks  like  the  Jews  : 
He  saved  others  :  himself  he  cannot  save  :  if  he  be 
now  the  King  of  Israel,  let  him  come  down  from 
the  cross,  and  we  ivill  believe  him.  Faith  lays  hold 
on  him  as  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  cries, 
Lord!  remember  me  when  thou  comest  into  thy 
kingdom  .'  Sense  envies  the  prosperous  worldling, 
and  calls  him  happy — Faith  goes  into  the  sanctu- 
ary, to  see  what  his  end  will  be.  When  the 
waves  run  high.  Sense  clamors — Faith  says, 
"  Speak  but  the  word,  and  the  wind  and  waves 
shall  obey  thee."  When  we  feel  our  earthly 
house  of  this  tabernacle  taking  down.  Sense  sinks 
— but  Faith  says,  We  hww,  that,  if  our  earthly 
house  of  this  tabernacle  be  dissolved,  ive  have  a 
building  of  God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands, 
eternal  in  the  heavens. 


Wisdom  prepares  for  the   worst:    but  folly 
leaves  the  worst  for  that  day  when  it  comes. 


Abraham  teaches  us  the  right  way  of  convers- 
ing with  God : — And  Abraham  fell  on  his  face,  and 
God  talked  toith  him !  When  we  plead  with  him 
our  faces  should  be  in  the  dust :  we  shall  not  then 
speak  lightly  of  him,  nor  complain  ;  nor  will  there 
be  any  more  boasting.  We  shall  abase  ourselves 
and  exalt  God ! 


The  Christian's  secret  intercourse  with  God 
will  make  itself  manifest  to  the  world.  We  may 
not  see  the  husbandman  cast  the  seed  into  the 
ground,  yet  when  the  corn  grows  and  ripens  we 
know  that  it  was  sown.  The  mere  professor,  who 
may  be  found  every  where  but  in  his  secret  cham- 
ber, may  think  that  with  care  lie  shall  pass  for  a 
good  Christian  :  but  he  mistakes,  for  the  spirit 
WILL  discover  itself,  of  what  sort  it  is.  He,  who 
would  walk  safely  and  honorably,  must  walk 
closely  with  God  in  secret. 


A  variety  of  circumstances  render  the  sin- 
ner's first  approaches  to  Christ  difficult.  They 
who  find  an  east  access,  will  find  an  easy  depar- 
ture when  troubles  arise. 


The  most  likely  method  we  can  take  to  hasten 
the  removal  of  what  we  love,  is,  to  value  it  too 


74 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


niuch— to  think  on  it  with  endless  anxiety — ^to 
LIVE  on  its  favor  with  sohcitude.  It  shall  soon 
either  become  a  thorn  in  our  side,  or  be  taken 
away 


Be  ye  not  unequally  yoked.  If  a  believer  mar- 
ries an  unbeliever,  the  miseries  which  ensue  are 
endless.  Were  they  determined,  in  kindness,  to 
grant  all  they  could  to  each  other ;  yet  they  live 
as  in  two  separate  worlds.  There  is  a  great  gulf 
between  them,  which  cannot  be  passed  without 
the  grace  of  God;  on  wiiich,  while  all  should 
hope^'and  pray  for  it,  none  should  presume.  They 
cannot  taste  the  same  pleasures,  nor  share  the 
same  sorrows,  nor  pursue  the  same  objects,  nor 
walk  in  the  same  path.  What  hope,  then,  can 
there  be  of  comfort?  Every  Christian  finds  the 
corruptions  of  his  own  heart,  the  snares  of  the 
world,  and  the  devices  of  Satan,  together  with  m- 
numerable  secret  anxieties,  quite  enough  to  strug- 
gle with  in  his  journey  to  heaven,  without  addmg 
another  to  his  difficulties. 


In  studying  the  word  of  God,  digest  it  under 
these  two  heads  ;  either  as  removing  obstructions, 
which  keep  God  and  thee  asunder  ;  or  as  supply- 
ing some  uniting  power  to  bring  God  and  thee  to- 
gether. 


Pekhaps  it  is  a  greater  energy  of  Divine  Power, 
which  keeps  the  Christian  from  day  to  day,  from 
year  to  year — praying,  hoping,  running,  believing 
—against  all  hinderances — which  maintains  him 
as  a  LIVING  martyr— than  that  which  bears  him 
up  for  an  hour  in  sacrificing  himself  at  the  stake. 

By  the  course  of  his  providence  God  will  assert 
the  liberty  of  his  council. 

Let  me  ask.  every  day,  what  reference  it  has  to 
the  day  of  judgment ;  and  cultivate  a  disposition 
tu  be  reminded  of  that  day. 


Indulge  not  a  gloomy  contempt  of  any  thing 
which  is  in  itself  good  :  only  let  it  keep  its  place. 


God  has  called  us  to  meet  his  best  gift  to  man 
— his  only-begotten  Son — not  in  a  splendid  court, 
but  in  a  manger ! — in  the  wilderness  ! — in  Geth- 
eemane  ! — before  the  high-priest,  when  they  spat 
in  his  face  and  buffeted  him,  and  smote  him  ! — at 
the  cross  ! — and  at  tlie  sepulchre  !  Thus  it  is  that 
he  corrects  the  pride  and  ambition  of  the  human 
heart ! 


There  is  in  sin,  not  only  an  infinite  mischief 
done  to  the  man,  but  it  is  accompanied  by  an  in- 
fatuation that  surpasses  all  description.  When 
the  heart  declines  from  God,  and  loses  communion 
with  Clirist,  the  man  resembles  one  in  a  consump- 
tion, who  is  on  the  brink  of  the  grave  and  yet 


talks  of  a  speedv  recovery  !  A  death  will  come 
on  the  spirit,  which  will  be  perceived  and  felt  by 
all  around :  yet  when  the  most  affectionate  friends 
of  such  a  man  attempt  to  expostulate,  they  often 
find  him  not  only  insensible,  but  obstinate  and 
stout-hearted.  He  who,  like  Samson,  the  cham- 
pion of  Israel,  lays  his  head  in  the  lap  of  tempta- 
tion, will  rarely  rise  again  as  he  lay  down :  he 
may  say,  I  will  go  out,  as  at  other  times  before,  and 
shake  myself:  but  he  loists  not  that  the  Lord  is  de- 
parted from  him  '.—Strangers  have  devoured  his 
strength,  and  he  knoweih  it  not ! 

The  whole  life  of  Christ  was  one  continued  ex- 
pression of  the  same  desire.— "Let  me  lay  aside 
my  glory — ^let  me  expire  on  the  cross — so  that  thy 
kingdom  may  come  !"  And  the  blood  of  every 
martyr,  who  ever  suffered  in  the  cause  of  God, 
cried,  "  Let  thy  kingdom  come  !" 


Growth  in  grace  manifests  itself  by  a  simpli- 
city—that is,  a  greater  naturalness  of  character. 
There  will  be  more  usefulness,  and  less  noise ; 
more  tenderness  of  conscience,  and  less  scrupu- 
losity :  there  will  be  more  peace,  more  humihty  : 
when  the  full  corn  is  in  the  ear,  it  bends  down 
because  it  is  full. 


The  history  of  all  the  great  characters  of  the 
Bible  is  summed  up  in  this  one  sentence :— they 
acquainted  themselves  with  God,  and  acouiesced 
in  his  will  in  all  things. 


God's  way  of  answering  the  Christian's  prayer 
for  an  increase  of  patience,  experience,  hope,  and 
love — usually  is  to  put  him  into  the  furnace  of 
tribulation.  St.  James  therefore  says,  Count  it  all 
joy  when  ye  fall  into  divers  temptations.  People  of 
the  world  count  it  all  joy  when  they  are  in  ease 
and  affluence ;  but  a  Christian  is  taught  to  count 
it  all  joy  when  he  is  tried  as  gold  in  the  fire. 


In  Christ  we  see  the  most  perfect  exhibition  of 
every  grace,  to  which  we,  as  his  followers,  are 
called.  Let  there  be  but  in  us  that  poverty  of 
spirit — that  disposition  to  bear  with  provocations, 
and  to  forgive  injuries — that  obedience  to  God  and 
acquiescence  in  his  will — that  perseverance  in 
doing  good — that  love  which  overcometh  all  diffi- 
culties— that  meekness,  humility,  patience,  com- 
passion, and  gentleness  which  were  found  in 
Christ ;  and  if  any  man  should  be  so  ignorant  and 
debased  as  to  imagine  that  this  is  not  true  dig- 
nity OF  CHARACTER,  let  it  be  remembered,  that 
this  was  the  mind  which  roas  also  in  Christ  Jesus. 


Looking  back  is  more  than  we  can  sustain 
without  going  back ! 


When  the  multitudes  followed  our  Lord  on  a 
particular  occasion,  although  he  wished  for  retire- 
ment, and  had  gone  purposely  to  seek  it,  yet  he 
gave  up  his  design  and  attended  to  them.     Mark 


REMAINS    OF   MR.    CECIL. 


75 


the  condescension  and  tenderness  of  such  conduct, 
in  opposition  to  a  sour,  monastic,  morose  temper. 
We  are  too  fond  of  our  own  will.  We  want  to 
be  doing  what  we  fancy  mighty  things  ;  but  the 
great  point  is,  to  do  small  things,  when  called  to 
them,  in  a  right  spirit. 


The  world  will  allow  of  a  vehemence  approach- 
ing to  ecstasy,  on  almost  any  occasion  but  that, 
which,  above  all  others,  will  justify  it. 


A  Christian  will  find  his  parenthesis  for  pray- 
er, even  through  his  busiest  hours. 


cellent,  which  produces  such  experience  and  wis- 
dom. 


We  cannot  build  too  confidently  on  the  merits 
of  Christ,  as  our  only  hope  ;  nor  can  we  think  too 
much  of  the  mind  that  was  in  Christ,  as  our  great 
example. 


A  Christian  does  not  glory  in  tribulation,  as 
he  does  in  the  cross  of  Christ.  The  cross  of 
Christ  is  the  object  in  which  he  glories  :  but  he 
glories  in  tribulation  as  an  appointed  means  and 
INSTRUMENT  in  the  hand  of  God,  of  accomplish- 
ing his  own  pleasure  and  promoting  our  real  good. 


We  treat  sensible  and  present  things  as  reali. 
ties,  and  future  and  eternal  things  as  fables 
whereas  the  reverse  should  be  our  habit.  | 


An  Enthusiast  will  court  trouble,  and  that  for 
ITSELF  :  but  a  Christian,  while  he  does  not  court 
it,  yet  rejoices  in  it :  not  for  its  own  sake,  but  be- 
cause he  knows  that  tribulation  worketh  patience, 
end  patience  experience,  and  experience  hope — a 
hope  that  maketh  not  ashamed.  While  patience  is 
the  fruit  of  his  conflicts  and  trials,  he  gams  ex- 
perience  by  them :  ho  acquires  the  knowledge 
v/hioh  a  traveller  obtains  in  performing  a  long 
j:;jrney  :  he  is  in  possession  of  a  bundle  of  choice 
maxims  and  observations,  gathered  with  much 
pains :  he  is  taught  by  them  to  know  his  own 
iieart :  he  is  brought  acquainted  with  the  faithful- 
ness and  mercy  of  God,  in  holding  him  up  in  the 
deep  waters,  and  accompanying  him  through  the 
fire  of  afHiction.  And  this  experience  produces 
hope — a  hope  that  he  is  savingly  united  to  Clirist 
— a  hope  that  he  is  in  the  church  of  God — a  hope 
of  the  glory  of  God — a  hope  that  maketh  not 
ashamed,  keeping  us  steady  at  anchor  througli 
every  storm,  and  when  every  other  support  fails. 


Never  was  there  a  man  of  deep  piety,  who  has 
not  been  brought  into  extremities — who  has  not 
been  put  into  the  fire — who  has  not  been  taught 
to  say.  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him  ! 


There  are  but  two  states  in  the  world  which 
may  be  pronounced  happy — either  that  of  the  man 
who  rejoices  in  the  light  of  God's  countenance, 
or  tiiai  of  him  who  mourns  after  it. 


Let  tne  warm-hearted  Christian  be  careful  of 
receiving  a  wrong  bias  in  religion.  When  a  ball 
is  in  motion,  almost  any  thing  presented  to  it  ob- 
liquely will  turn  it  wholly  out  of  its  course.  Be- 
ware," therefore,  of  a  wrong  direction  in  Chris- 
tianity. Fix  your  attention  ever  on  such  exam- 
ples as  St.  John  and  St.  Paul,  and  hear  how  they 
speak  :  If  any  man  love  not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
let  him  he  Anathema,  Maranatha  ! 


God  denies  a  Christian  nothing,  but  with  a  de- 
sign to  give  him  something  better. 


A  Christian's  steps  are  not  only  safe,  but 
steady  : — He  that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste. 
When  danger  approaches,  he  shall  not  be  thrown 
into  confusion  from  Jiis  alarm,  so  as  to  be  ready  to 
say,  "  Whither  shall  I  run  !"  but,  finding  himself 
on  safe  ground,  he  shall  be  quiet.  Being  built 
on  the  sure  foundation  and  established  in  Christ, 
he  shall  not  make  haste  in  his  expectations  :  he 
shall  not  make  haste  with  respect  to  the  promises, 
as  though  they  were  long  in  their  accomplishment, 
knowing  that  all  (he  promises  of  God  are  Yea,  and, 
in  Christ,  Amen!  In  affliction,  he  shall  not  make 
haste  in  running  to  broken  cisterns ;  as  Asa  did, 
when  in  his  disease,  he  sought  not  to  the  Lord,  but 
to  the  physicians :  he  shall  not  be  alarmed,  or  dri- 
ven about,  as  one  who  has  not  a  strong  hold  to 
enter  ;  but  shall  say.  None  of  these  things  move 
me  .'  neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  myself,  so 
that  I  might  finish  my  course  with  joy!  With  re- 
spect to  his  character,  the  Christian  shall  not 
make  haste  :  if  a  cloud  come  over  his  reputation, 
and  men  will  suspect  his  integrity  without  grounds, 
he  will  commit  himself  to  God,  and  wait  his  op- 
portunity, and  not  make  rash  haste  to  justify  and 
clear  his  character 


When  a  man  can  say,  "  My  God  !"  if  he  can 
add  no  more,  tliat  is  sufficient :  for  my  God  is  all- 
wise  in  appointing,  and  almighty  to  uphold  and  to 
deliver.  My  God  is  a  Father  to  me  in  Christ: 
yea,  he  is  a  Father  who  hid  his  face  from  Clirist 
for  my  good.  If,  then,  I  am  in  darkness,  let  me 
remember  that  God  never  had  a  Son  that  was  not 
sometimes  in  the  dark  ;  for  even  Christ,  his  only 
begotten  Son,  cried  out.  My  God !  My  God !  why 
hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? 


God  teaches  some  of  his  best  lessons  in  the 
school  of  affliction.  It  is  said  that  St.  Paul's 
Epistle  to  the  Ephesians  has  quite  the  spirit  and 
air  of  a  prison .    That  school  must  be  truly  ex- 


Few  Christians,  if  any,  sufficiently  honor  Christ, 
as  governing  their  concerns.  They  do  not  say, 
"  Now,  while  I  am  praying  on  earth,  my  Saviour 
is  working  for  me  in  Heaven.  He  is  saying  to  one, 
'  Uo  this  !' — and  to  another,  '  Do  tliat !' — and  all 
for  my  good  !"     While  Jeremiah  was,  doubtless, 


76 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


crying  to  God  out  of  the  dungeon,  Ebed-melech  i  A  christian  must  stand  in  a  posture  to  receive 
was  interceding  for  liim  with  tlie  king,  and  tliey  |  every  message  which  God  shall  send.  He  must 
were  preparing  tlie  means  of  his  deliverance.  See  j  be  so  prepared,  as  to  be  like  one  who  is  called  to 
Jer.  xxxviii.  set  off  on  a  sudden  journey,  and  has  nothing  to  do 

j  but  to  set  out  at  a  moment's  notice  :  or  like  a 

merchant  who  has  goods  to  send  abroad,  and  has 

them  all  packed  up  and  in  readiness,  for  the  first 


Let  the  restless,  comfortless  state  of  a  back- 
slider, distinguish  him  from  an  apostate. 


If  you  have  set  out  in  the  ways  of  God,  do  not 
slumble  at  present  difficulties.  Go  forward.  Look 
not  behind. 


Something  must  be  left  as  a  test  of  the  loyalty 
of  the  heart— ui  Paradise,  tlie  Tree :  in  Israel,  a 
Canaanite  :  in  us.  Temptation. 


Religious  joy,  is  a  holy,  a  delicate  deposit.  It 
is  a  pledge  of  something  greater,  and  must  not  be 
lIiou_-ht  lightly  of:  for  let  it  be  withdrawn  only  for 
a  little,  and,  notwithstanding  the  experience  we 
mav  have  had  of  it,  we  shall  find  no  living  creature 
can  restore  it  to  us,  and  we  can  only,  with  David, 
cry.  Restore  unto  me,  O  Lord,  the  joy  of  thy  sal- 
vation. 


A  Christian  should  beware  of  that  temptation. 
Why  should  I  wait  for  the  Lord  any  longer  ?  He 
should  remember,  if  it  is  a  time  of  extremity,  that 
is  the  very  reason  why  he  should  ivait.  If  his  way 
is  so  hedged  up  that  lie  cannot  go  forward,  he 
should  say,  "  Now  is  the  time  for  me  to  stand  still, 
and  wait  till  God  opens  my  way."  When  my  spi- 
rit was  overwhelmed  loithin  me,  then  thou  kneicest 
my  path. 


Human  nature  is  always  putting  forth  its  fears 
and  unbchef,  in  anxious  questions  concerning  to- 
morrow, or  some  threatening  calamity  :  but  Christ 
says  to  every  Christian,  "Le<  not  your  heart  be 
troubled,  7ieilher  let  it  be  afraid :  I  go  to  prepare  a 
place  for  you ;  and  I  will  protect  and  guide  you 
throughout  the  journey  thitheT." 

God  with  us  is  the  traveller's  security.  Jacob 
was  destitute  :  lie  had  a  long  and  dreary  journey; 
but  God  said.  Behold  I  am  loith  thee,  and  tvill  keep 
thee  in  all  places  ivhither  thou  goest. 


God  calls  not  for  thousands  <f  rams  nor  te7i 
thousands  rfriiers  (foil :  he  calls  not  his  creatures 
to  live  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  nor  sets  tiiem  to 
perform  long  pilgrimages,  nor  to  inflict  pains  on 
tlieir  bodies.  No  !  the  rigors  of  superstition  are 
from  MAN.  The  voice  of  God  is,  "  Be  happy,  here 
and  for  ever  !  Fly  that  which  will  make  you  miser- 
able every  where !  Come  unto  me  all  thai  labor,  and 
are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest. 


sail. 


TiiK  voice  of  Christ  is,  My  Son,  give  me  thy 
heart !  and  to  liini,  wiio  obeys,  lie  will  say,  "  Go 
in  peace  !  go  into  tli<;  grave!  go  to  judgment !  <ro 
into  eternity !  go  in  peace  !" 


How  many  people  go  out  of  their  sphere  under 
good  pretences  ! 


A  PERSON  who  objects  to  tell  a  friend  of  his 
faults,  because  he  has  faults  of  his  own,  acts  as  a 
surgeon  would  who  should  refuse  to  dress  another 
person's  wound  because  he  had  a  dangerous  one 
himself. 


When  the  most  insignificant  person  tells  us  we 
are  wrong,  we  ought  to  listen.  Let  us  believe  it 
possible  we  may  l)e  wrong,  when  any  one  sup- 
poses we  are  ;  and  enter  into  the  true  littleness 
which  consists  in  receiving  correction  like  a  child. 


No  man  rejects  a  minister  of  God  who  faithfully 
performs  his  office,  till  he  has  rejected  God. 


The  plainest  declarations  of  God's  favor  and 
the  strongest  encouragements,  are  generally  ma- 
nifested in  the  darkest  night  of  trial.  Who  could 
be  more  destitute  than  Jacob,  when  he  lay  down 
in  the  desert  with  a  stone  for  his  pillow  1  See 
also  Acts  xxvii.  20—24.     2  Cor.  i.  3,  4,  5. 


The  pride  of  Israel  testijieth  to  his  face  ;  and  they 
do  not  return  to  the  Lord  their  God.  This  is  the 
worst  symptom  in  a  sinner — when  he  is  too  proud 
to  go  to  God.  Whatever  be  our  condition,  if 
there  is  contrition  of  spirit  under  it,  there  is  hope 
of  that  man.  There  is  no  room  for  despair,  to 
whatever  lengths  a  man  may  have  gone  in  sin, 
if  he  can  smite  on  his  breast,  and  say,  "  O  Lord  ! 
though  my  sins  testify  against  me,  yet  thou  art  a 
God  of  compassion.  Do  thou  it,  for  thy  name's 
sake." 


A  CHRISTIAN  should  never  attempt  to  try  his 
state  while  under  a  temptation  :  he  might  as  well 
attempt  to  examine  the  face  of  the  moon  while 
she  is  under  an  eclipse.  But,  when  he  finds  cor- 
rupt nature  setting  in  witli  a  temptation — and  who 
has  not  felt  this  : — let  him  remember  his  Great 
Physician.  This  is  the  glory  of  the  Son  of  God, 
that  no  case,  either  of  the  body  or  of  the  soul,  was 
ever  fountl  too  hard  for  him  !  Blessed  be  God, 
that  we  have  in  iiim  a  hiding  place — a  covert  from 
the  storm — a  refuge  from  all  our  enemies  ! 


The  great  care  of  the  man  who  is  content  witli 
the  form  of  godliness  without  the  power,  is,  that 
every  thing  should  bo  right  without ;  while  the 
true  Christian  is  moat  careful  that  every  thing 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


77 


should  be  right  within.  It  would  be  nothing  to 
him  to  be  applauded  by  the  whole  world,  if  he 
had  not  the  approbation  of  God  and  his  own  con- 
science. Real  religion  is,  therefore,  a  living  prin- 
ciple. Any  one  may  make  a  show,  and  be  called 
a  Christian,  and  unite  himself  to  a  sect,  and  be 
admired, — but,  for  a  man  to  enter  into  the  sanc- 
tuary ;  to  hold  secret  communion  with  God  ;  to  re- 
tire into  his  closet,  and  transact  all  his  affairs  with 
an  unseen  Saviour ;  to  walk  with  God  like  Enoch, 
and  yet  to  smite  on  his  breast  with  the  Publican, 
having  no  confidence  in  the  flesh,  and  triumphing 
only  in  Christ  Jesus — these  are  the  hfe  and  acts 
of  a  new  creature. 


O  Lord  !  let  me  have  ant  thing  but  thy  frown : 
and  ANY  THING,  with  thy  smile  !* 


Whatever,  below  God,  is  the  object  of  our  love, 
will  at  some  time  or  other,  be  the  matter  of  our 
sorrow. 


Take  care,  Christian  !  whatever  you  meet  with 
in  your  way,  that  you  forget  not  your  father  ! 
When  the  proud  and  wealthy  rush  by  in  triumph, 
while  you  are  poor  and  in  sorrow,  hear  the  voice 
of  your  Father  saying,  "  My  son  !  had  I  loved 
them,  I  should  have  corrected  them  too.  I  give 
them  up  to  the  ways  of  their  own  hearts  :  but  to 
my  children,  if  I  give  sorrow,  it  is  that  I  may  lead 
them  to  a  crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not  away  !" 


It  is  by  faith  that  we  contemplate  unseen  things. 
To  the  eye  of  a  clown,  a  planet  appears  but  a 
twinkling  star :  but  if  he  looked  through  a  tele- 
scope, and  were  able  to  calculate,  he  would  per- 
ceive that  it  was  a  great  world,  and  would  be  as- 
tonished at  its  distance  and  magnitude.  While 
the  gay  and  the  busy  are  moving  on  their  little 
mole-hills  full  of  anxiety,  faith  thus  reaches  beyond 
the  world  :  it  views  death  as  at  hand  :  it  looks  at 
heaven,  and  catches  a  glimpse  of  its  glory :  it 
looks  at  hell  and  sees  the  torments  of  the  con- 
demned :  it  looks  at  judgment  and  realizes  that 
awful  day  :  it  looks  at  eternity,  and  says.  Our  light 
ajjliction,  which  is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh  for 
us  afar  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory : 
while  ive  look  not  at  the  things  lohich  are  seen,  but 
at  the  things  which  are  not  seen ;  for  the  things 
which  are  seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things  lohich 
are  not  seen  are  eternal. 


Where  there  is  a  real  character,  a  man  will  not 
sit  down  in  the  Christian  conflict,  and  say,  "  If  I 
must  carry  about  with  me  this  Ijody  of  death,  I 
•nust  submit.  I  must  bear  these  enemies  as  quiet- 
ly as  I  can."  No  !  he  will  say,  as  St.  Paul  seems 
to  say,  "  I  will  be  on  no  terms  with  sin  !  I  will 
raise  an  outcry  against  the  corrupt  nature  !  I  will 
triumph  in  my  Physician  !     His  grace  is  sufficient 


'  "  Give  what  thou  canst,  without  Thee  we  are  pool  ! 
And  with  Thee  rich,  lake  what  thou  wilt  away." 
Cmrpcr,  Task.  V.    J.  P. 


for  me  :  I  will  wait  for  a  cure,  and  wait  for  it  in 
the  appointed  way.  I  see  light  and  hope,  and 
liberty  ;  and  I  thank  God,  that,  if  I  am  a  sinner, 
yet  I  am  a  saved  sinner  !" 


God  hath  set  the  day  of  prosperity  and  the  day  of 
adversity,  the  one  over  against  the  other — as  the 
clouds  are  gathered,  for  rain,  by  the  shining  of  the 
sun  :  and,  if  for  a  moment  they  are  blown  aside, 
we  must  expect  their  return. — Where,  in  our  sky, 
should  we  look  for  clouds  ! — where  it  is  brightest : 
where  our  expectations  are  highest.  Our  sharpest 
sorrows  arise  out  of  our  sweetest  comforts.  Ra- 
chel said.  Give  me  children,  or  else  I  die  :  and  in 
obtaining  what  she  esteemed  her  highest  comfort 
— what  she  would  have  at  any  rate — was  hidden 
the  cause  of  her  sharpest  grief.  God  gave  her 
children  ;  and,  in  bearing  her  second  child,  it  came 
to  pass,  as  her  soul  was  departing  (for  she  died)  that 
she  called  his  name  Ben-oni — the  soil  of  my  sorrow. 


Who  is  the  most  miserable  man  on  earth  ? — 
and  whither  shall  we  go  to  seek  him  1  Not  to  the 
tavern  !  not  to  the  theatre !  not  even  to  a  brothel ! 
— but  to  the  church!  That  man  who  has  sat 
Sabbath  after  Sabbath  under  the  awakening  and 
affecting  calls  of  the  gospel,  and  has  hardened  his 
heart  against  these  calls — he  is  the  man  whose 
condition  is  the  most  desperate  of  all  others. — 
Wo  unto  thee,  Chorazin !  wo  unto  thee,  Bethsai- 
da  ! — and  thou,  Capernaum,  which  are  exalted  to 
heaven,  shall  be  thrust  down  to  hell. 


Give  every  kind  of  knowledge  its  due  attention 
and  respect :  but  what  science  is  to  be  compared 
to  the  knowledge  of  Christ  crucified  1  Had  a  tra- 
veller lost  his  way  in  some  desert,  where  he  had 
wandered  till  he  was  fainting  with  hunger  and 
thirst,  for  what  would  he  first  ask  ? — for  music  ? — 
paintings  1 — No  ! — he  would  ask  for  bread — for 
water !  Any  thing  else  offered  him  would  be  a 
mocking  of  his  misery. 


What  an  oppressive  burden  is  taken  off  a 
Christian's  shoulders,  by  his  privilege  of  leaving 
all  consequences,  while  in  the  path  of  duty  to  God  ! 
He  has  done  with — "how  shall /bear  this  trouble!" 
— "  How  shall  /  remove  this  difficulty  1" — "  How 
shall  I  get  through  this  deep  water  V — but  leaves 
himself  in  the  hands  of  God. 


We  may  form  some  idea  of  the  joys  of  heaven, 
by  the  innocent  pleasures  which  God  grants  us 
on  earth.  Here  is  a  fine  situation,  with  wonder- 
ful prospects — every  thing  to  delight  the  senses : 
yet  all  this  we  find  in  a  world  which  is  under  a 
curse  !  what  then  may  we  not  expect  in  a  heaven- 
ly world,  where  God  exercises  all  his  power  for 
our  blessedness  1 


However  ill  men  may  treat  us,  we  should  never 
give  them  a  handle  to  say  that  we  misbehaved  our- 


78 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


selves.  Were  I  to  meet  my  most  bitter  adversary, 
and  know  that  he  was  come  with  the  most  mali- 
cious intention?,  I  should  endeavor  to  be  so  on 
TOy  guard,  that  he  could  not  lay  his  finger,  with 
truth,  on  any  part  of  my  conduct. 


The  motive  determines  the  quality  of  actions. 
One  man  may  do  a  penurious  act,  because  he 
knows  he  shall  be  put  to  difficulties  if  he  does  not : 
another  may  do  the  same  from  mere  avarice. — 
The  king  of  Edom  offered  up  his  son  on  the  wall, 
and  liis  abominable  cruelty  excited  just  indigna- 
tion :  but  Abraham,  having  in  intention  offered  up 
his  son,  is  licld  forth  to  all  generations  for  this  act 
as  the  father  of  the  faithful. 


It  is  always  a  sign  of  poverty  of  mind,  where 
men  are  ever  aiming  to  appear  great :  for  they, 
who  are  really  great,  never  seem  to  know  it. 


What  the  world  calls  the  best  company  is  such 
as  a  pious  mechanic  would  not  condescend  to 
keep  :  he  v;ould  rather  say.  Turn  aicay  mine  eyes 
from  beholding  vanity. 


One  way  of  reading  the  Bible  with  advantage 
is,  to  pay  it  great  homage  :  so  tiiat,  when  we  come 
to  any  part  which  we  cannot  connect  with  other 
passages,  we  must  conclude  that  this  arises  from 
our  ignorance,  but  that  the  seeming  contrarieties 
are  in  themselves  quite  reconcilable. 


Younct  Christians  on  setting  out  in  life,  often 
mistake  greatly  in  not  sufficiently  attributing 
events  to  tiie  immediate  providence  of  God.  They 
are  not  reluctant,  at  the  end,  to  acknowledge  that 
their  way  has  been  directed:  but  they  do  not 
enough  mark  it  as  they  go  on.  There  is  a  habit 
of  saying,  '-Such  a  thing  may  turn  up,"  as  if  it 
depended  on  chance ;  whereas  nothing  will  turn 
up,  but  what  was  ordered  long  before.  One  cause 
of  this  evil  is,  that  the  divinity  of  our  day  deals 
too  much  in  common-place  :  certain  fundamental 
truths  are  set  forth  :  and  if  a  man  professes  these 
truths,  too  little  account  is  made  of  the  faith,  de- 
pendance,  and  other  graces  of  a  Christian.  When 
a  man  becomes  a  Christian  he  is  written  upon,  as 
it  were,  "  to  be  provided  for  !" — and  he  ought, 
therefore,  to  notice,  as  lie  goes  on,  how  Providence 
does  provide  for  him. 


Men  mistake  in  nothing  so  much,  as  when  they 
resist  their  dispensation  ;  for,  while  God  shutteth 
up  a  man,  there  can  be  no  opening.  Resistance 
does  but  make  the  dispensation  harder  to  be  borne. 
Job  says,  He  tearelh  himself  in  his  anger :  but  shall 
the  rock  be  removed  because  of  thee  !  T lie  man  is, 
as  it  were,  in  a  labyrinth :  and  the  hand,  which 
brought  him  in,  must  be  the  hand  to  conduct  him 
out. 


We  require  the  same  hand  to  protect  us  in  ap- 
parent safety,  as  in  the  most  imminent  and  palpa- 


ble danger.  One  of  the  most  wicked  men  in  my 
neighborhood  was  riding  near  a  precipice,  and 
fellover :  his  horse  was  killed,  but  he  escaped 
without  injury  :  instead  of  thanking  God  for  his 
deliverance,  he  refused  to  acknowledge  the  hand 
of  God  therein :  but  attributed  his  escape  to  chance. 
The  same  man  was  afterward  riding  on  a  very 
smooth  road  :  his  horse  suddenly  tripped  and  fell, 
and  threw  his  rider  over  his  head,  and  killed  him 
on  the  spot,  wlide  the  horse  escaped  unhurt. 


If  a  man  is  dead  in  sin,  our  attempting  to  correct 
his  false  notions  is  like  laying  a  dead  man  straight, 
who  before  was  lying  crooked.  The  man  is  dead, 
and  will  remain  so  ;  though,  before,  he  was  lying 
crooked,  and  is  now  lying  straight.  It  matters 
little  what  right  notions  we  may  have,  while  we 
are  dead  in  sin  ;  for  we  shall  never  act  up  to  them, 
till  God  awakens  our  hearts. 


To  have  too  much  forethought,  is  the  part  of  a 
WRETCH  ;  to  have  too  little,  is  the  part  of  a  fool. 


Self-will  is  so  ardent  and  active,  that  it  will 
break  a  world  to  pieces,  to  make  a  stool  to  sit  on. 


We  are  too  little  acquainted  with  the  sacred 
character  of  God.  A  certain  man  sold  a  possession, 
and  brought  a  certain  part  of  the  price.  We  should 
have  thought  this  a  generous  act :  but  God  saw 
that  there  wanted  a  right  estimation  of  his  cha- 
racter. Many  sins  are  suffered  to  pass,  to  be  pu- 
nished hereafter  :  but  God  sometimes  breaks  out, 
and  strikes  an  offender  dead  in  vindication  of  his 
own  glory. 


Remember  always  to  mix  good  sense  with  good 
things,  or  they  will  become  disgusting. 


Things  are  not  to  be  done  by  the  effort  of  the 
moment,  but  by  the  preparation  of  past  moments. 


If  there  is  any  person  to  whom  you  feel  dislike, 
that  is  the  person  of  whom  you  ought  never  to 
speak. 


Irritability  urges  us  to  take  a  step  as  much 
too  soon,  as  sloth  does  too  late. 


When  we  read  the  Bible  we  must  always  re- 
member, that  like  the  holy  waters  seen  by  Ezekiel,* 
it  is  in  some  places,  up  to  the  ankles  ;  in  others,  up 
to  the  knees  ;  in  others,  up  to  the  loins  ;  and  in  some 
a  river  too  deep  to  be  fathomed,  and  that  cannot  be 
passed  over.  There  is  light  enough  to  guide  the 
humble  and  teachable  to  heaven,  and  obscurity 
enough  to  confound  the  unbeliever. 

•  Ezek.  eh.  xlvii. 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


True  religion  as  revealed  in  the  Scriptures  may 
be  compared  to  a  plum  on  the  tree,  covered  with 
its  bloom.  Men  gather  the  plum,  and  handle  it, 
and  turn  and  twist  it  about,  till  it  is  deprived  of  all 
its  native  bloom  and  beauty  :  the  fairest  hand 
would  as  much  rob  the  plum  of  its  bloom,  as  any 
other.  Now  all  that  little  party-spirit,  which  so 
much  prevails  among  men,  and  which  leads  them 
to  say,  lamofPaul  and  I (f  ApoUos — is  but  hand- 
ling the  plum  till  it  loses  its  bloom. 


World ;  and  the  Book  of  Providence.  Every  oc- 
currence is  a  leaf  in  one  of  these  books  :  it  does 
not  become  us  to  bo  negligent  in  the  use  of  anv 
of  them. 


Eloquence  is  vehement  simplicty. 


Theke  are  but  two  classes  of  the  wise : — the 
men  who  serve  God  because  they  liave  found  him : 
and  the  men  who  seek  him,  because  they  have 
found  him  not.  All  others  may  say,  Is  there  not 
a  lie  in  my  right  hand  ? 


God  is  omniscent  as  well  as  omnipotent ;  and 
omniscience  may  see  reason  to  withhold  what 
omnipotence  could  bestow. 


Attend  to  the  presence  of  God  :  this  will  dig- 
nify a  small  congregation,  and  annihilate  a  large 
one. 


Philosopht  is  a  proud,  sullen  detecter  of  the  Having  some  business  to  transact  with  a  gen- 
poverty  and  misery  of  man.  It  may  turn  him  from  { tleman  in  the  city,  1  called  one  day  at  his  count- 
the  world  with  a  proud,  sturdy  contempt :  but  it  i  ing  house  :  he  begged  I  would  call  again,  as  I  had 
cannot  come  forward,  and  say,  "  Here  are  rest —  ]  so  much  more  time  to  spare  than  lie  had,  who  was 
grace — peace — strength — consolation  !"  |  a  man  of  business.     "  An  hour  is  nothing  to  you," 

said   he — "An   hour  nothing  to  a   clergyman!" 

j  said  I :  "  you  seem  litile  to  understand  the  nature 

We  hear  much  of  a  decent  pride— a  becoming  ]  ^f  ^y^  profession.     One   hour  of  a  clergyman's 
pride— a  noble  pride— a  laudable  pride  !     Can  [  ^j^g  j.j^i,t]y  employed,  Sir,  is  worth  morS  to  him 
that  be  decent,  of  which  we  ought  to  be  asham-    ^j^^j^  j^jj  t^^     ^j^g  oj-  y^uj.  merchandise." 
ed  ] — Can  that  be  becoiviing,  of  which  God  has  j 
set  forth  the    deformity  ? — Can  that   be  noble, 
wnich  God  resists,  and  is  determined  to  debase  ?        j^  ^  n,an  has  a  quarrelsome  temper,  let  him 

-Can  that  be  laudable,  which  God  calls  abo-  ^^^^^^  The  world  will  soon  find  him  employment, 
minable.  j^g  ^^,j]]  g^^jj  meet  with  some  one  stronger  than 

himself,  who  will  repay  him  better  than  you  can. 

Many  things  are  spoken  of,  in  the  Scriptures,  as    A  man  may  fight  duels  all  his  life,  if  he  is  disposed 
good  :  but  there  is  not  one  thing  emphatically    '•^  quarrel, 
called  good,  which  does  not  relate  to  Christ  or  his 
coming. 


Say  the  strongest  things  you  can,  with  candor 
and  kindness,  to  a  man's  face  ;  and  make  the  best 
excuse  you  can  for  him,  with  truth  and  justice, 
behind  his  back. 


Many  people  labor  to  make  the  narrow  way 
wider.  They  may  dig  a  path  into  the  broad  way  ; 
but  the  way  to  hfe  must  remain  a  narrow  way  to 
the  end. 


All  extremes  are  error.  The  reverse  of  error 
is  not  truth,  but  error.  Truth  lies  between  these 
extremes. 


One  day  I  got  off  my  horse  to  kill  a  rat,  which 
I  found  on  the  road  only  half  killed.  I  am  shocked 
at  the  thoughtless  cruelty  of  many  people,  yet  I 
did  a  thing  soon  after,  that  has  given  me  consider- 
able uneasiness,  and  for  which  I  reproach  myself 
bitterly.  As  I  Vvas  riding  homeword,  I  saw  a 
wagon  standing  at  a  door  with  three  horses;  the 
two  foremost  were  eating  their  corn  from  bngs  at 
their  noses;  but  I  observed  the  third  had  dropt  his 
on  the  ground,  and  could  not  stoop  to  get  any  food. 
Howev-er,  I  rode  on,  in  absence,  without  assisting 
him.  But  when  I  had  got  nearly  home,  I  remem- 
bered what  I  had  observed  in  my  absence  of 
mind,  and  felt  extremely  hurt  at  my  neglect:  and 
would  have  ridden  back  had  I  not  thought  the 
wagoner  might  have  come  out  of  the  house  and 
relieved  the  horse.  A  man  could  not  have  had  a 
better  demand  for  getting  off  his  horse,  than  for 
such  an  act  of  humanity.  It  is  by  absence  of 
I  HAVE  no  doubt,  but  that  there  are  persons  of  I  mind,  that  we  omit  many  duties. 

every  description,  under   every  possible  circum- 1  

stance,  in  every  lawful  calling  among  Christians, ! 

who  will  go  to  heaven — that  all  the  world  may  j  A  wicked  man  is  a  candidate  for  nothing  but 
see,  that  neither  their  circumstances  nor  calling  hell ! — However  he  may  hve,  if  his  conscience 
prevented  their  being  among  the  number  of  the  were  awake,  he  would  turn  pale  at  this  question : 
blessed.  |  What  shall  I  do  in  the  end  thereof? 


God  has  given  us  four  books:— the  Book  of!      Theee  is  a  great  defect  in  Gray's  Elegy.    Yoa 
Grace  ;  the  Book  of  Nature  ;  the  Book   of  the  '  cannot  read  it  without  feeling  a  melancholy  :  there 


80 


REMAINS    OF     MR<    CECIL, 


is  no  sunsliine— no  Iiope  after  deatli :  it  shows  the 
dark  side  only  of  mortality.  But  a  man  refined  as 
he  was,  and  speculating  on  the  bankruptcy  of  hu- 
man nature,  if  lie  brought  not  evangelical  views 
into  the  estimate,  could  describe  human  nature 
only  as  hopeless  and  forlorn  :  whereas  what  he 
felt  a  subject  of  melancholy  is  with  me  included 
in  tlie  calculation.  I  know  it  must  be  so,  and,  ac- 
cording to  my  views,  should  be  disappointed  if  it 
were  not  so — My  kingdom,  said  our  Lord,  is  not 
of  this  world. 


Revelation  never  staggers  me.  There  may  be 
a  tertium  quid,  though  we  are  not  yet  in  possession 
of  it,  which  would  put  an  end  to  all  our  present 
doubts  and  questions.  I  was  one  day  riding  with 
a  friend :  we  were  discussing  a  subject,  and  I  ex- 
pressed myself  surprised  that  such  a  measure  was 
not  adapted.  "  If  I  were  to  tell  you  one  thing," 
said  he,  "  it  would  make  all  clear."  I  gave  him 
credit  that  there  did  exist  something,  which  would 
entirely  dispel  my  objections.  Now  if  this  be  tiie 
case,  in  many  instances,  between  man  and  man, 
is  it  an  unreasonable  conclusion,  that  all  the  unac- 
countable points,  which  we  may  observe  in  the 
providence  and  government  of  God,  should  be  all 
perfection  in  the  Divine  mind  ?  Take  the  growth 
of  a  seed — I  cannot  possibly  say  what  first  pro- 
duces progress  of  growth  in  the  grain.  Take  vo- 
luntary motion — I  cannot  possibly  say  where  action 
begins  and  thought  ends.  The  proportion  between 
a  fly's  mind  and  a  man's  is  no  adequate  illustra- 
tion of  the  state  of  man  with  respect  to  God  ;  be- 
cause there  is  some  proportion  between  the  minds 
or  faculties  of  two  finite  creatures,  but  tliere  can 
be  none  between  finite  man  and  the  infinite  God. 


One  little  preacher  will  endeavor  to  prove,  with 
a  great  deal  of  warmth,  the  truth  of  Calvinistic 
principles  : — and  another  little  preacher  will  clearly 
demonstrate  the  truth  of  the  Arminian  scheme. 
Good  sense  will  go  between  them,  and  say,  "There 
are  certain  things  written  on  these  subjects — Thus 
saUh  the  Lord ;"  good  sense  will  hesitate  to  push 
what  is  said  to  all  its  apparent  conclusions,  for — 
It  is  tvrilten  again.  Here  ends  all  dogmatism 
with  a  wise  man. 


A  MOUSE  that  liad  lived  all  his  life  in  a  chest, 
fays  the  fable,  chanced  one  day  to  creep  up  to  the 
edge,  and,  peeping  out,  exclaimed  with  wonder — 
"  !  did  not  think  the  world  was  so  large." 

The  first  step  to  knowledge,  is  to  know  that  we 
are  ignorant :  It  is  a  great  point  to  know  our  place : 
for  want  of  this,  a  man  in  private  life,  instead  of 
attending  to  the  affairs  in  his  "  chest,"  is  ever 
peeping  out,  and  then  he  becomes  a  philosopher  ! 
he  must  then  know  every  thing,  and  presumptu- 
ously pry  into  the  deep  and  secret  councils  of  God 
— not  considering  that  man  is  finite,  and  has  no 
faculties  to  comprehend  and  judge  of  the  great 
schemo  of  things.  We  can  form  noother  ideaof  the 
dispensations  of  God,  nor  can  have  any  knowledge 
of  spiritual  things,  except  what  God  has  taught 
U8  in  his  word ;  and,  where  he  stops,  we  must 


stop.  He  lias  not  told  ns  why  he  permitted  the 
angels  to  fall — why  he  created  Adam — why  he 
suffered  sin  to  enter  into  the  world — why  Christ 
came  in  the  latter  ages — when  he  will  come  to 
judgment — what  will  be  the  doom  of  the  heathen 
nations — nor  why  our  state  throughout  eternity 
was  made  to  depend  on  such  a  moment  as  man's 
life  :  all  these  are  secrets  of  his  council.  Where 
u-ast  thou,  when  I  laid  thefonndations  of  the  earth? 
God  urges  it  on  us  again  and  again,  that  sin  has 
entered — and  that  we  must  flee  from  the  wrath  to 
come.  Christ,  in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  never  gra- 
tified curiosity :  he  answered  every  inquiry  ac- 
cording to  the  SPIRIT  of  the  inquirer,  not  accord- 
ing to  the  letter  of  the  inquiry  :  if  any  man  came 
in  humility  for  instruction,  he  always  instructed  ; 
but,  when  any  came  to  gratify  a  vain  curiosity,  he 
answered,  as  when  one  said,  Lord,  are  there  few 
that  he  saved? — strive  to  enter  in  at  the 
STRAIT  GATE  ! — or,  as  whou  another  inquired, 
Lord,  and  what  shall  this  man  do  ! — What  is  that 
to  thee  ?     Follow  thou  me. 


We  are  too  ready  to  say  in  trouble.  All  these 
things  are  against  me  .'  but  a  Christian  should  say, 
"  This  or  that  may  seem  against  me  ;  but  there  is 
mercy  for  me  :  there  is  a  Saviour :  there  is  God's 
word  :  and  there  are  his  ordinances."  He  should 
be  more  careful  to  enumerate  what  is  for  him, 
than  what  is  against  him.  He  should  look  over 
the  list  of  his  spiritual  and  temporal  mercies,  as 
well  as  that  of  his  sorrows  ;  and  remember,  that 
what  things  are  against  him  are  so  on  account 
of  his  sin.  Our  pilgrimage  is  but  short : — let  us 
make  use  of  our  helps  and  means.  God  has  given 
us  a  guide,  and  a  support  to  lean  on  :  when  the 
clouds  gather,  we  have  only  to  look  to  Jesus.  We 
are  not  to  expect  the  joys  of  heaven  while  on 
earth : — let  us  be  content  that  there  is  a  highway 
for  us  to  walk  in,  and  a  leader  to  conduct  us  in 
that  way. 


It  is  a  Christian's  business,  as  much  as  possible, 
consistently  with  his  duty,  to  lessen  his  cares  and 
occupations  in  the  world.  It  is  very  common  to 
hear  Christians  complain  what  a  hinderance  busi- 
ness is,  while  they  are,  perhaps,  at  the  very  time, 
too  anxious  to  increase  it !  There  is  some  fallacy, 
too,  in  the  complaint :  for,  where  there  is  a  prin- 
ciple of  grace,  it  will  prevail  even  in  a  multitude 
of  engagements.  There  is  much  difference  be- 
tween SEEKING  busy  situations,  and  being  found 
in  them. 


What  we  call  "  taking  steps  in  life,"  are  most 
serious  occurrences ; — especially  if  there  be,  in 
the  motive,  any  mixture  of  ambition.  Wherefore 
gaddest  thou  about  to  change  thy  way  1 


The  dispensation  of  grace  to  some,  is  little  more 
than  a  continual  combat  with  corruptions :  so  that, 
instead  of  advancing,  a  man  seems  to  be  but  just 
able  to  preserve  himself  from  sinking.  A  boat, 
with  the  tide  full  against  it,  does  well  if  it  can 
keep  from  driving  back,  and  must  have  ttrong 


RExMAlNS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


H 


force  indeed  to  get  forward.     We  must  estimate 
grace  by  the  opposition  which  it  meets  with. 


How  blessed  is  the  Christian,  in  the  midst  of 
his  greatest  troubles  !  It  is  true  we  cannot  say- 
he  is  perfect  in  holiness — that  he  has  never  any 
doubts — that  his  peace  of  mind  is  never  interrupt- 
ed— that  he  never  mistakes  providence  :  but,  after 
all,  his  is  a  blessed  condition  ;  for  he  is  supported 
under  his  trials,  and  instructed  by  the  discipline  : 
and,  as  to  his  tears,  the  evil  under  the  apprehen- 
sion of  which  he  is  ready  to  sink,  frequently  does 
not  come — or  it  does  not  continue — or  it  is  turned 
into  a  blessingf. 


One  of  the  greatest  impositions  of  Satan  on  the 
mind,  is  that  of  quieting  a  man  in  the  pursuit  or 
possession  of  what  is  lawful.  So  that  if  it  is  not 
murder,  or  adultery,  or  theft,  which  he  is  commit- 
ting, all  is  well !  Because  a  man's  bed  is  his  own, 
he  may  idle  away  in  it  his  inestimable  time  !  Be- 
cause his  business  is  lawful,  a  man  may  intoxicate 
liis  mind  with  the  pursuit  of  it ! 


The  very  heart  and  root  of  sin,  is  an  indepen- 
dent spirit.  We  erect  the  idol  self  ;  and  not 
only  wish  others  to  worship,  but  worship  it  our- 
selves. 


We  must  take  care  when  we  draw  parallel 
cases,  not  to  take  such  as  are  not  or  cannot  be 
made  parallel.  For  instance — we  may  ask,  be- 
fore we  act,  "  What  w^ould  Jesus  Christ  do  in  this 
case"!  or  what  would  St.  Paull"  but  we  cannot 
be  guided  by  this  rule  in  every  thing,  because 
Christ's  mission  was  peculiar :  it  was  an  unpa- 
ralleled event :  it  was  for  three  years  only  :  and, 
like  a  great  fire,  he  was  always  burning — always 
intent  on  one  point.  St.  Paul  also  was  in  pecu- 
liar circumstances :  he  was  sent  on  an  especial 
errand.  In  every  thing  which  is  in  any  degree 
finful,  we  should  turn  to  these  examples  ;  But,  in 
the  conduct  peculiar  to  our  station,  our  application 
of  these  examples  must  be  governed  by  circum- 
stances. 


Many  inexperienced  Christians  are  apt  to  look 
for  wrong  kinds  of  evidences,  and  so  distress 
themselves  about  their  state.  The  questions 
which  we  should  put  to  ourselves,  in  seeking  the 
best  evidences,  are — "Do  I  hate  sin! — Is  it  my 
grand  fear? — Is  it  my  grief,  that,  while  I  have  a 
good  hope  of  pardon,  I  yet  should  make  such  ill 
returns  1  Have  I  brokenness  of  spirit?" — Godli- 
ness is  analogous  to  the  principle  of  gravitation, 
in  that  it  reduces  every  tiling  to  its  proper  centre. 


rian  says,  that  every  thing  is  determined  by  a 
wise  Governor,  who  inspects,  orders,  and  superm- 
tends  the  whole  machine  ;  so  that  a  sparrow  does 
not  fall  to  the  ground,  or  a  hair  of  the  head  perish, 
without  permission. 


We  are  so  accustomed  to  see  sin  within  ard 
without  us,  that  we  seldom  deeply  feel  it,  or  are 
so  shocked  at  it,  as  we  should  be  were  it  less  fre- 
quent. If  an  inhabitant  of  the  court  were  to  walk 
through  some  of  the  filthy  streets  and  alleys  of  the 
metropolis,  how  would  he  be  disgusted  and  terri- 
fied  !  while  the  poor  wretches,  who  live  in  them, 
think  nothing  of  the  matter.  Thus  a  clearer  view 
of  sin  and  of  the  holiness  of  God,  made  the  pro- 
phet cry  out,  Wo  is  me  !  for  I  am  undone  ;  he- 
cause  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell  in 
the  midst  of  a  people  of  unclean  lips  :  for  mine  eyes 
have  seen  the  King,  tlie  Lord  of  Hosts. 

It  is  much  easier  to  settle  a  point,  than  to 
ACT  on  it. 


I  once  said  to  myself,  in  the  foolishness  of  my 
heart,  "  What  sort  of  sermon  must  that  have  been 
which  was  preached  by  St.  Peter,  when  three 
thousand  souls  v/ere  converted  at  once?" — What 
sort  of  sermon ! — such  as  other  sermons.  There 
is  nothing  to  be  found  in  it  extraordinary.  The 
effect  was  not  produced  by  St.  Peter's  eloquence  : 
but  by  the  mighty  power  of  God,  present  with  his 
word.  It  is  in  vain  to  attend  one  minister  after 
another,  and  to  hear  sermon  after  sermon,  unless 
we  pray  that  the  Holy  Spirit  accompany  his 
word.  Neither  is  he  that  planteth  any  thing,  nei- 
ther he  that  watereth  ;  but  God  that  giveth  the  in- 
crease. 


That  humility  which  courts  notice,  is  not 
riRST-RATE.  It  may  be  sincere,  but  it  is  sullied. 
Do  not  sound  a  trumpet,  nor  say,  "  Come  and  see 
how  humble  I  am." 


We  should  be  careful  never  to  discourage  any 
one  who  is  searching  after  God.  If  a  man  begins 
in  earnest  to  feel  afterhim  if  haply  he  may  find  him, 
let  us  be  aware  how  we  stop  him,  by  rashly  telling 
him  he  is  not  seeking  in  the  right  way.  This 
would  be  like  setting  fire  to  the  first  round  of  the 
ladder,  by  which  one  was  attempting  to  escape. 
We  must  wait  for  a  fit  season  to  communicate 
light.  Had  any  one  told  me,  when  I  first  began 
to  think  religiously,  that  I  was  not  seeking  God  in 
the  right  way,  I  might  have  been  discouraged 
from  seeking  him  at  all.  I  was  much  indebted  to 
my  mother,  for  her  truly  wise  and  judicious  con- 
duct toward  me  when  I  first  turned  from  my  vani- 
ty and  sin 


The  difference  between  what  is  called  fate, 
and  PREDESTINATION,  is  something  like  that  of  a  We  should  always  record  our  thoughts  in  afflic- 
house  ivithout  a  governor,  and  a  house,  icith  a  go-  |  tion — set  up  way-marks — set  up  our  Bethels — 
vernor.  The  Fatalist  says,  "  Every  thintr  must,  of :  erect  our  Ebenezers  ;  tliat  we  may  recur  to  them 
necessity,  be  as  it  is — as  a  stone  must  fall  to  the  in  health  ;  for  then  we  are  in  other  circumstances, 
ground,  fire  must  ascend,  &c.     The  Predestina- 1  and  can  never  recover  our  sick-bed  views. 


REMAlxVS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


A  CONTEMPLATIVE  life  has  more  the  appear- 
ance of  a  life  of  piety  than  any  other :  but  it  is 
the  divine  plan  to  bring  faith  into  activity  and 
EXERCISE.  We  chose  that  sort  of  walk,  which 
we  like  best:  if  we  love  quiet,  we  are  for  seden- 
tary piety  ;  but  the  design  of  God  is  to  root  us 
out  of  every  thing,  and  bring  us  into  more  useful 
stations. 


A  WRETCHED  prisoner,  chained  to  the  floor  for 
a  length  of  time,  would  deem  it  a  high  privilege  to 
be  aUowed  to  walk  across  the  room.  Another, 
confined  to  lie  on  his  back  till  it  had  become  sore, 
would  think  it  a  great  favor  if  he  migiit  be  per- 
mitted to  turn  on  his  side  for  a  few  minutes.  In 
a  course  of  habitual  pain,  I  am  thankful  for  five 
minutes'  freedom  from  suffering:  hov/  forgetful 
liave  I  been  of  fifty  years  of  tolerable  ease  !  How 
unmindful  are  we  of  what  we  call  common  mer- 


In  order  to  read  the  Bible  with  profit,  we  must 
begin  by  denying  ourselves  every  step  of  the  way : 
for,  every  step  of  the  way,  it  will  be  found  to  op- 
pose our  corrupt  nature. 


Cheistiais's  resemble  travellers  in  a  stage- 
coach. We  are  full  of  our  plans  and  schemes, 
but  the  coach  is  moving  rapidly  forward  :  it  passes 
one  mile-stone,  and  then  another  ;  and  no  regard 
is  paid  to  the  plots  and  plans  of  the  passengers. 


A  Christian  has  advanced  but  a  little  way  in 
religion  when  he  has  overcome  tlie  love  of  the 
world  :  for  he  has  still  more  powerful  and  impor- 
tunate enemies:  self — evil  tempers — pride — un- 
due atfections — a  stubborn  will — it  is  by  the  sub- 
duing of  these  adversaries,  that  we  must  chiefly 
judge  of  our  growth  in  grace. 


A  FRIEND  called  on  me  when  I  was  ill,  to  settle 
some  business.  My  head  was  too  much  confused 
by  my  indisposition  to  understand  fully  what  he 
said ;  but  1  had  such  unlimited  confidence  in  him, 
that  I  did  whatever  he  bid  me,  in  tiie  fullest  as- 
surance that  it  was  right.  How  simply  I  can 
trust  in  man,  and  how  little  in  God !  How  un- 
reasonable is  a  pure  act  of  faitli  in  one  like  our- 
selves, if  we  cannot  repose  the  same  faith  in 
God. 


Some  negative  rules,  given  to  a  Young  Minister 
going  into  a  situation  of  peculiar  d^culty. 
As  I  know  you  have  received  much  good  ad- 
vice, I  would  suggest  to  you  a  few  hints  of  a  ne- 
gative kind  :  with  a  view  of  admonishing  you  to 
be  careful,  while  you  are  doing  your  v^^ork,  not  by 
any  mistakes  of  your  own  to  hinder  your  success— 
I.   By  forgetting  thai  your  success  with  others  is 
very  much  connected  with  your  personal  character. 
Ilerod  heard  John  gladly,  and  he  did  many 
things ;  because  he  knew  the  preacher  to  be  a 
just  and   holy   man.     Words  uttered  from  the 


heart  find  their  way  to  the  heart,  by  a  holy  sym- 
pathy.    Character  is  power : — 

"  A  good  man  seen,  though  silent,  counsel  gives." 
If  you  would  make  deep  impressions  on  others, 
you  must  use  all  means  to  have  them  first  formed 
on  your  own  mind.  Avoid,  at  the  same  time,  all 
appearances  of  evil — as  a  covetous  or  worldly,  a 
vain  or  assuming,  careless  or  indevout  deportment. 
Never  suffer  jesting  with  sacred  persons  or  things. 
Satan  will  employ  such  antidotes  as  these,  to 
counteract  the  operation  of  that  which  is  effective 
and  gracious  in  a  minister's  character. 

II.  By  placing  your  dependence  on  any  means, 
qualities,  or  circumstances,  however  excellent  in 
themselves. 

The  direct  way  to  render  a  thing  weak,  is  to 
lean  on  it  as  strong.  God  is  a  jealous  God ;  and 
icill  utterly  abolish  idols  as  a  means  of  success. 
He  designs  to  demonstrate  tliat  men  and  crea- 
tures are  what  he  makes  tliem,  and  that  only. 
This  also  sliould  be  your  encouragement : — look- 
ing, in  the  diligent  and  humble  use  of  means,  to 
that  Spirit  of  life  and  power  without  whose  influ- 
ence ail  your  endeavors  will  be  to  no  purpose,  you 
have  reason  to  expect  help  suited  and  adequate 
to  all  your  difficulties. 

III.  By  unnecessarily  appearing  in  dangerous 
or  improper  situations. 

It  is  one  thing  to  be  humble  and  condescend- 
ing ;  it  is  another  to  render  yourself  common, 
clieap  and  contemptible.  The  men  of  the  world 
know  when  a  minister  is  out  of  his  place — when 
they  can  oppress  him  by  numbers  or  circum- 
stances— when  tliey  can  make  him  laugh,  while 
his  office  frowns.  Well  will  it  be  for  him,  if  he  is 
only  rendered  absurd  in  his  future  public  admo- 
nitions, by  his  former  compliances ;  well  if,  being 
found  like  St.  Peter  on  dangerous  ground,  he  is 
not  seduced,  virtually  at  least,  to  deny  his  Master. 

IV.  By  suspicious  appearances  in  his  family. 

As  the  head  of  your  household  you  are  respon- 
sible for  its  appearances.  Its  pride,  sloth,  and 
disorder  will  be  yours.  You  are  accountable  for 
your  wife's  conduct,  dress,  and  manners,  as  well 
as  those  of  your  children,  whose  education  must 
be  peculiarly  exemplary.  Your  family  is  to  be  a 
picture  of  what  you  wish  other  families  to  be : 
and,  without  the  most  determined  resolution,  in 
reliance  on  God,  to  finish  this  picture  cost  what 
IT  WILL,  your  recommending  family  religion  to 
others  will  but  create  a  smUe.  Your  unfriendly 
hearers  will  recollect  enough  of  Scripture  to  tell 
you  that  you  ought,  like  the  primitive  bishop,  to 
be  one  that  ruleth  ivell  his  oivn  house,  having  his 
children  in  subjection  with  all  gravity :  for  if  a 
man  know  not  how  to  rule  his  own  house,  liozo  shall 
he  take  care  of  the  church  of  God  ? 

V.  By  meddling  beyond  your  sphere  in  tempo- 
rals. 

Your  aim  and  conversation,  like  your  sacred 
call,  are  to  be  altogether  heavenly.  As  a  man  of 
God,  you  have  no  concern  with  politics  and  par- 
ties and  schemes  of  interest,  but  you  are  to  live 
above  them.  There  is  a  subhme  spirit  in  a  de- 
voted minister,  which,  as  one  says  of  Christianity 
itself,  pays  no  more  regard  to  these  things,  than  to 
the  battles  of  rooks,  the  industry  of  ants,  or  the 
policy  of  bees. 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


83 


VI.  By  venturing  off  general  and  acknowledged 
ground  in  spirituals. 

By  giving  strong  meat  instead  of  milk,  to  those 
who  are  yot  but  habes — by  giving  heed  to  fables, 
which  minister  questions  rather  than  godly  edify- 
ing; amusing  the  mind,  but  not  affecting  the 
heart :  often  disturbing  and  bewildering,  seldom 
convincing ;  frequently  raising  a  smile,  never 
drawing  a  tear. 

VII.  By  maintaining  acknowledged  truth  in 
your  own  spirit. 

Both  food  and  medicines  are  injurious,  if  ad- 
ministered scalding  hot.  The  spirit  of  a  teacher 
often  effects  more  than  his  matter.  Benevolence 
is  a  universal  language:  and  it  will  apologize  for 
a  multitude  of  defects,  in  the  man  who  speaks  it ; 
while  neither  talents  nor  truth  will  apologize  for 
pride,  illiberality,  or  bitterness.  Avoid,  therefore 
irritating  occasions  and  persons,  particularly  dis- 
putes and  disputants,  by  which  a  minister  often 
loses  his  temper  and  liis  character. 

VIII.  By  being  too  sharp-sighted,  too  quick- 
eared,  or  too  ready-tongued. 

Some  evils  are  irremediable  :  they  are  best 
neither  seen  nor  heard  :  by  seeing  and  hearing 
things  which  you  cannot  remove,  you  will  create 
implacable  adversaries ;  who,  being  guilty  ag- 
gressors, never  forgive.  Avoid  speaking  meanly 
or  liarshly  of  any  one  :  not  only  because  this  is 
forbidden  to  Christians,  but  because  it  is  to  declare 
war  as  by  a  thousand  heralds. 

IX.  By  the  temptations  arising  from  the  female 
sex. 

I  need  not  mention  what  havoc  Satan  has  made 
in  the  church,  by  tijis  means,  from  the  fall  to  this 
day.  Your  safety  when  in  danger  from  this  quar- 
ter, lies  in  flight — to  parley  is  to  fall.  Take  the 
first  hint  from  conscience,  or  from  friends. 

In  fme.  Watch  thou  in  all  things ;  endure  afflic- 
tions :  do  the  u-ork  of  an  evangelist :  make  full  proof 
of  thy  ministry:  and  then,  whether  those  around 
you  acknowledge  your  real  character  or  not  now, 
they  shall  one  day  know  that  there  hath  been  a  pro- 
phet among  them  ! 


FRAGMENT. 

A  Dying  Ministers  Farewell. 

When  a  Christian  minister  feels  the  springs  of 
life  giving  w^ay  : — his  faculties  decaying — his  voice 
failing — his  spirit  sinking — though  lie  may  not 
have  it  in  liis  power  to  say,  as  the  apostle  did  to 
his  friends,  /  knoic  that  ye  all,  among  ichom  I  have 
preached  the  kingdom  of  God,  shall  see  my  face  no 
more — yet  he  should  stand  ready  to  part  with  his 
flock,  and  every  sermon  should  be  felt  by  him  as 
if  it  were  his  last. 

Wherefore  I  take  you  to  record  this  day,  that  I 
am  pure  from  the  blood  of  all  men  :  for  1  have  not 
shunned  to  declare  unto  you  all  the  counsel  of 
God.  And  what  have  I  declared  that  counsel  of 
God  to  be? — All  the  curious  distinctions  of  the 
schools  ] — All  tlie  peculiarities  insisted  on  so 
strongly  by  different  sects  ? — No  such  thing  !  I 
have  followed  the  great  apostle  in  testifying  re- 


pentance toward  God  and  faith  toward  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ. 

There  has  been  a  slander  brought  against  reli- 
gion— that  we  are  not  agreed,  as  to  the  truths 
we  set  before  men.  I  say,  it  is  false  !  We  are 
agreed.  All,  who  know  any  thing  of  real  religion, 
are  agreed,  that  the  substance  of  the  matter  is 
contained  in  repentance  toward  God,  and  faith 
toward  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

If  a  man,  like  the  prodigal,  feels  that  he  has  left 
his  father's  house — turned  liis  back  on  God — and 
is  become  a  fool  and  a  madman  for  so  doing — and 
that  there  is  no  hope  but  in  his  returning  again  : 
if  such  a  change  of  mind  is  wrought  in  liim  by  the 
Holy  Spirit,  as  he  wrouglit  in  David,  when  he  cried. 
Wash  me  thoroughly  from  my  iniquity,  aiid  cleanse 
me  from  my  sin  :  if,  like  Peter,  he  goes  forth  weep- 
ing bitterly — feeling  that  he  has  acted  foolishly 
and  wickedly,  and  that  his  only  hope  is  in  the  mer- 
cy of  God  through  the  Saviour — then  the  man  en- 
ters so  far  into  the  spirit  of  religion — repentance 
TOWARD  God. 

But  does  he  rest  in  this  1  Nay,  he  knows  that 
if  he  could  offer  thousands  of  rams,  and  ten  thou- 
sands of  rivers  of  oil,  he  could  make  no  satisfaction 
for  the  sin  of  Us  soul.  He  looks  to  the  atone- 
ment ! — to  Him,  whom  God  hath  set  forth  to  he  a 
propitiation  through  faith  in  his  blood. 

Repentarwe  totvard  God  must  be  accompanied  by 
faith  toward  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

He  came  unto  his  own,  and  his  own  received  him 
not.  But  as  many  as  received  him,  to  them  gave  he 
power  to  become  the  sons  of  God,  even  to  them  that 
believe  on  his  name :  which  were  bom  not  of  blood, 
nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  loill  of  man,  but 
of  God.  These  men  are  enabled  to  say  with  St. 
Paul,  "  I  count  all  things  hut  loss  for  the"^ excellency 
of  thb  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.  I  have 
no  refuge  but  in  him — no  other  hope — no  other 
plea.  All  my, confidence  before  God  is  grounded 
on  this — that  He  suffered,  the  just  for  the  unjust, 
that  he  might  bring  us  to  God." 

If  a  minister  testifies  these  things — if  he  speaks 
pl;iinly  and  simply  these  grand  essential  truths  of 
God's  word — though  he  die  before  another  Sab- 
bath return,  he  may  rest  in  peace — leaving  the 
issue  in  God's  hand. 

The  ground  of  a  minister's  own  solid  satisfac- 
tion cannot  be  popularity  :  for  even  to  Simon 
Magus  all  gave  heed,  from  the  least  to  the  greatest, 
saying.  This  man  is  the  great  power  of  God  I — 
neither  can  he  ground  his  satisfaction  on  the  exer- 
cise of  strong  and  enlarged  talents  :  for  even 
Balaam  was  a  man  of  extraordinary  endowments 
— nor  can  it  be  on  his  success  i—for  many,  saith 
our  Lord,  shall  come  to  me,  and  say.  Have  we  not 
done  many  wonderful  works  in  thy  name,  and  in 
thy  name  cast  out  devils  ?  Then  tvill  I  profess 
unto  them,  I  never  knew  you!  As  though  he  had 
said,  "I  deny  not  the  works,  but  ye  are  evil  men !" 

But  a  minister's  satisfaction  must  be  grounded 
on  the  faithful  discharge  of  his  office  in  the  de- 
livery OF  his  message,  a  Prince  sends  a  spe- 
cial messenger  to  his  rebellious  subjects,  with 
offers  of  pardon  :  in  examining  his  conduct,  he  will 
not  inquire  whether  they  received  and  approved 
him  or  not :  the  question  will  be — "  Did  you  de- 
liver my  message  ?  did  you  deliver  it  as  one  that 
believed  it  yourself?  as  one  in  earnest  ?"     If  a 


REMAINS    OF    MR.    CECIL. 


man  should  come  and  tell  you,  with  a  cheerful 
countenance  and  careless  air,  that  your  house  was 
on  fire,  and  that  you  and  your  children  would  be 
burnt  in  the  flames  if  you  did  not  make  haste  to 
escape,  you  would  not  believe  him.  You  would 
say,  "He  does  not  believe  it  himself,  or  he  would 
not  be  so  unfeeling  as  to  speak  of  it  in  such  a 
manner." 

If  a  minister  delivers  his  message,  then  no  scorn, 
no  reproach  that  may  be  cast  upon  him,  can  take 
away  his  rest — he  has  done  his  duty.  When  the 
king  sent  out  his  servants  to  invite  men  to  his 
feast,  they  excused  themselves  on  various  pre- 
tences :  but  the  servant  might  say,  "No  matter  ! 
— I  have  declared  the  message — I  may  rest  in 
having  done  my  part,  though  no  success  seems  to 
attend  my  pressing  invitations." 

I  would  lodge,  therefore,  my  appeal  in  your  con- 
sciences— /  take  Tou  to  record — I  appeal  to  con- 
science :  for  there  is  a  conscience  in  man ;  and, 
in  serious  moments,  it  will  speak  out.  It  wrung 
from  Joseph's  brethren  that  confession.  We  are 
verily  guilty  concernir^g  our  brother!  It  forced 
Balaam  himself  to  cry  out.  Let  me  die  the  death 
of  the  righteous !  and  let  my  last  end  he  like  his! 
It  tormented  the  traitor  Judas  into  that  self-accu- 
sation, /  have  sinned,  in  thai  I  hare  betrayed  the 
innocent  blood ! 

When  a  young  person  has  been  talked  to  by  his 
parents — when  thuy  have  represented  to  him  the 
misery  and  ruin  of  a  wicked  course,  and  of  bad 
habits — he  might  affect  to  brave  it  out  at  the  time ; 
but  he  has  gone  afterward  weeping  through  the 
streets — because  co'science  would  speak. 

But  when  the  Spirit  of  God  softens  a  man's 
heart — when  he  is  made  to  feel  wliai  an  exil  and 
bitter  thing  it  is  to  sin  against  God — then  a  faithful 
minister's  appeal  to  that  man  is  like  that  of  St. 
Paul  to  the  Thessalonians  :  Ye  are  witnesses,  and 
God  also,  how  hnlily,  ajid  justly,  and  unblameably 
we  behaved  ourselves  among  you  that  believe.  As 
you  knaiv  how  we  exhorted,  and  comforted,  and 
charged  every  one  of  you  (as  a  father  doth  his  chil- 
dren) that  ye  loould  walk  luorthy  of  God,  who  hath 
called  you  unto  his  kingdom  and  glory.  For  this 
cause  also  thank  we  God  without  ceasing,  because, 
when  ye  received  the  word  of  God  tvhich  ye  heard  of 
us,  ye  received  it  not  as  theivord  rf  men,  but,  (as  it 
is  in  truth)  the  word  of  God  tvhich  effectually  work- 
eth  also  in  you  that  believe.     1  The'ss.  ii.  10 — 13. 

it  is  most  affecting  to  see  to  what  miserable 
shifts  men  will  liave  recourse,  in  order  to  evade 
the  truth. 

"  It  is  IRRATIONAL,"  says  one,  "  to  insist  so 
much  on  certain  peculiarities  of  doctrine  !" — But 
whose  reason  shall  be  t!ie  judge  1 — For  the  preach- 
ing of  the  cross  is  to  them,  that  perish  foolishness  : 
but  It  is  written  I  will  destroy  the  wisdom  of  the 
wise,  and  icill  bring  to  nothing  the  understanding 
of  the  prudent. 

"  It  is  unnecessary,"  says  another — But  has 
God  commanded — and  do  we  pronounce  his  com- 
mands unnecessary  ] 

"It  is  disreputable" — Did  Christ  regard  re- 
putation?— Nay,  he  made  himself  of  no  reputation. 

"  It  is  a  narrow  way" — Ah !  there,  indeed, 


you  pronounce  truly !  The  way  of  heaven  is  a  nar- 
row way  !  But  what  says  the  judge — Wide  is  the 
gate,  and  broad  is  the  way  that  leadeth  to  destruction, 
and  many  there  be  tvhich  go  in  thereat ;  because 
strait  is  the  gate,  and  narroiv  is  the  way  which 
leadeth  unto  life,  andfew  there  be  that  find  it. 

Oh  how  distressing  is  it  to  observe  many,  to 
whom  we  cannot  but  fear,  the  gospel  which  they 
hear  preached  from  Sunday  to  Sunday,  is  but  the 
savor  of  death  !  If  God  has  made  a  difference  in 
any  of  us,  let  us  not  forget  to  whom  we  are  in- 
debted. 

Brethren  !  you  are  my  witnesses.  I  take  you 
to  record,  that  you  have  had  tlie  whole  counsel  of 
God  declared  unto  you — that  all  curious  and  meta- 
physical inquiries,  all  critical  and  conjectural  points 
have  been  carefully  avoided  for  your  sake.  1  have 
attempted  to  clear  my  ministry  of  all  disputable 
subjects,  in  order  to  set  before  you  the  plain  fact 
of  the  death  and  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
of  salvation  through  him. 

But  consider !  you  also  must  give  an  account ! 
I  must  give  an  account,  whether  I  plainly  and 
simply  declared  the  truth,  as  one  who  felt  its  im- 
portance, and  was  in  earnest.  You  must  give  an 
account,  whether  you  have  gone  away  from  this 
place,  as  if  you  had  heard  nothing  to  the  purpose, 
and  immediately  dissipated  your  thoughts  with 
some  trifling  subject — some  mere  secular  concern  : 
— or — whether  what  you  heard  brought  you  to 
your  knees  before  God,  beseeching  him  to  seal  and 
impress  his  truth  upon  your  hearts. 

Oh  consider  the  satisfaction  you  will  find,  in 
really  embracing  all  the  counsel  of  God.  Consider 
how  soon  the  time  will  come,  in  which  it  must  be 
your  only  satisfaction,  that  you  have  embraced 
it !  Let  it  be  your  prayer,  as  you  go  hence — "  O 
God,  give  me  grace  to  repent  with  that  repentance 
which  is  unto  hfe  !  Make  me  serious  !  Teach  me 
what  I  must  do  to  be  saved  !  Help  me  to  believe 
the  record  which  thou  hast  given  of  thy  Son. 
Give  me  faith  to  receive  the  atonement — to  set  to 
my  seal  that  there  is  none  other  name  under  heaven 
given  among  men  whereby  ice  must  be  saved,  but 
the  name  of  Jesus  Christ." 

Come  to  your  Saviour,  with  humility  as  a  sin- 
ner :  come  with  gratitude  and  love.  "  For  ye 
are  not  come  unto  the  mount  that  might  be  touch- 
ed, and  that  burned  with  fire,  nor  unto  blackness, 
and  darkness,  and  tempest,  and  the  sound  of  a 
trumpet,  and  the  voice  of  words:"  when,  "so  ter- 
rible was  the  sight,  that  Moses  said,  I  exceedingly 
fear  and  quake.  But  ye  are  come  unto  mount  Sion ; 
and  unto  the  city  of  the  living  God — the  heavenly 
Jerusalem ;  and  to  an  innumerable  company  of 
angels  ;  and  to  the  general  assembly  and  church 
of  the  first  born,  which  are  written  in  heaven  ; 
and  to  God,  the  Judge  of  all :  and  to  the  spirits  of 
just  men  made  perfect ;  and  to  Jesus  the  Mediator 
of  the  new  covenant ;  and  to  the  blood  of  sprink- 
ling, that  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of  Abel- 
See,  then,  that  ye  refuse  not  him  that  speaketh  ! 
— but — receiving  a  kingdom  which  cannot  be 
moved,  let  us  hold  fast  grace,  whereby  we  may 
serve  God  acceptably,  with  reverence  and  godly 
fear."     Heb.  xii.  18—28. 


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